sammy💫

Sam can feel Dean's hand creeping closer, and this is what excites him the most. The moment Dean's big hands touch his thigh, he might as well be a middle school girl with the way he's shuffling and tightening his legs. Dean has to grip him to warn him to stay still.

He can't explain why he does it. He just misses Sam. He misses when Sam would climb into the motel bed with him, when Sam's baby legs would intertwine with his own, the days when Sam wasn't so stressed with school and their father.

Tonight was a different kind of longing, he missed the warmth his growing brother gave him. He could practically feel Sam's sticky kid hands grasping onto his shirt as he slept with drool slipping from his lips, Dean wiping it away with a small, fond smile.

He needed to feel that familiar feeling. So, he took the initiative. He got into the bed, careful to not wake Sam with the dipping in the bed, or possibly moving too fast. Dean doesn't need Sam to freak out, but he couldn't care less right now.

He scooted as close as he could to Sam, lying down with him, his strong arms bringing his baby brother closer, Sam's familiar shampoo scent wafting into his nose.

When they woke up, there was no words spoken about it. However, Sam snuck glances at Dean throughout the day.

Later at night, Dean didn't climb into Sam's bed again. He felt guilty. He was going to sleep normally, by himself.

After ten minutes of the brothers trying to sleep, Dean heard Sam's quiet shuffles from a foot away, and then the bed dipped. Sam was coming to Dean, was coming back to his big brother.

When he looked down at his hand after what seemed like eternity, he didn't want to stop. He doesn't remember when the last time he ever sat there and admired every single part of Sam. It doesn't make a difference if Sam is dead, it's still his baby brother.

Dean trails his hand down Sam's clothed chest, careful to not poke at it too much so that it doesn't indent, doesn't leave an everlasting impression that Dean cannot feel Sam's warm flesh again.

He remembers that Bobby told him he had to give up, to let Sam go. But he can't, not when Sam needs him more than ever. His hand goes lower, resting on the buttoned up jeans, the belt holding them up not seemingly working anymore.

The temptation was too much, and Dean felt sick for doing this, but he needed to see his baby brother without his clothes. It'd be just like when Sam was a baby, wrapped in that soft blanket when he came home from the hospital.

As the clothes were slowly and carefully taken off, Dean admired every single detail of Sam. The scars, the blood clots forming, even the gross decomposing that's already started to kick in.

He can't leave Sam. Not like this. He leans down and presses small kisses onto Sam's skin, gentle and wet from his tears.

He doesn't stop, he can't, not when Sam is so close and all his. Nobody would know. Not even Sam. He can't protest, he probably wouldn't anyways.

Dean dips his hand between Sam's thighs, feeling the slight warmth that lingered and then disappears when his fingers drift away. He's practically drooling at the sight, but he can't stop from letting out weak sobs as he leans down and begins to take small bites of the disgusting flesh.

Dean always starts it, his voice harsh and raspy as he's off with their dad in a gas station, making an excuse to head to the bathroom.

"Sam, I miss you." He even takes his dick out of his fly, just to lazily stroke it over the toilet, just in case. He can hear Sam moving on the motel bed, the small whine in his voice.

"I miss you too," Sam sounded so pouty, so needy. He didn't care if Dean was out with dad, he needed this one minute alone with him. "Are you doing it?"

Sam still sounded so innocent, Dean loved it. Dean breathed heavily into the phone as he heard the soft sound of Sam moving his little hand, how he sped up when he made a small groan.

"You touching yourself for me, Sammy? You miss your big brother that bad?"

It was no surprise that Sam couldn't answer, Dean knew that Sam was still sensitive, still growing up. He remembers being twelve and how puberty affected him.

They decided to stop all the talk, it wasn't going to go far anyways. The only sound was their groans, small whines escaping from Sam as he tried to keep up with the pace of Dean. It was a little hard, his hand holding the phone was shaking so he couldn't focus - and all he wanted was sweet release.

Sam only cums when Dean tells him to, and he knows that the small silence after is going to be the only thing left. There was no goodbye, no 'see you soon.'

Dean can like a girl, kiss them, make out behind bleachers, fuck them on the couch afterwards, and he wouldn't care. Because Dean always goes back to him, so it's okay.

But for some reason, when Sam and Dean are finally in the same school at the same time, he doesn't like the guys that he hangs around. It's different, especially when Dean is handsy and touchy with one of them.

He huffs and puffs the whole way back to the motel as Dean tried to make him speak, but it just didn't work. It was no use, Sam was stubborn at this age.

He does this for nearly a week, so Dean just sort of leaves him alone. Sam hates it. Sam watches across the cafeteria as Dean is letting some random guy that means nothing get all over him, and for some reason that's what's making him mad. It just gets worse from then, the day he heard a rumor that Dean is kissing dudes now is when he really starts getting upset.

Sam assumed Dean only liked girls, and now he's kissing boys. Boys that shouldn't even be there, they shouldn't be allowed to kiss Dean.

It took Sam two days to muster the courage to ask Dean about it, and he couldn't hold his tears as he angrily asked if Dean even loves him anymore.

Dean says, "of course I do, what are you even talking about?" and that's when Sam just knew Dean wouldn't ever get it. He wouldn't understand how he feels unless he really showed him.

Nothing stopped Sam as he forced a big, awkward kiss to Dean's chin - he couldn't quite reach his lips, even on his tippy toes.

Dean was caught off guard, but when he looked down at Sam and saw how blown out his pupils were just from a simple peck he felt his own body start to feel exactly what Sam meant. The betrayal, the want, the pure need of brotherly love.

Dean stopped kissing girls and guys. He put it off saying he had something going on, he "can't let my old man know."

Dean having to use all his strength to pick up Sam and whisper for him to be quiet, that he wasn't leaving and that he was right here, that he would never abandon him.

Sam has to hold onto Dean any and every second of the day, whining when Dean tries to make him let go when he has to go to the bathroom.

Because why can't Sam come with him? Sam just wants to be next to his big brother! Forever and ever!

And it just gets worse as Sam grows up.

At ten he can barely go to school without anxiously waiting for it to end so he can see Dean again. He even wears Dean's old clothes, even if there's holes and rips in it from years of wear.

Dean started to see it as a problem when Sam would frown and crawl closer to him when he would talk to a waitress - because if Sam can't handle a worker simply doing her job, what won't he handle in the future?

And it doesn't take long for that question to be answered. Sam eventually got sick of hearing Dean talk about Mandy or Cindy or Chloe or anyone that isn't him.

He crawls into Dean's lap on the couch, creeps into his bed in the middle of the night, and then he's holding Dean's hand like they're a couple.

Dean sort of hates it, because what has gotten into Sam?

Crawling into Dean's lap, whining about wanting to stay, clinging to Dean as he glares at the girl that he is 100% convinced is just trying to take his big brother away from him.

Dean hates it, obviously - Sam is cockblocking him. But the girls find it cute how much Sam loves him.

This was a constant repeating cycle until Sam was twelve, where Sam would sit in Dean's lap and complain about every single girl he brought that week, and then it leads into a conversation where Sam is pleading for Dean to stop. Not because he hates it, but because he's jealous.

"I can do it better," and "you're my brother, I know you more than they do."

Dean running his hands over the soft fur any chance he gets, watching as Sam flinches away because "it feels weird."

He even grabs them. Full on yanks on them. Sam hates it, it's supposed to hurt but it feels so good.

At one point, Sam just gives up, telling Dean that it feels sexual. And Dean just shrugs, saying he knows and that's what makes it fun.

Sam couldn't believe Dean said that, but ever since then he wasn't too shy about moving away when Dean tries to mess with the ears. He lets Dean do whatever with them, he just tries to hold back the whimpers he desperately wants to let out - it was already weird enough.

Dean could see Sam holding back, so he gives a harsh pull and watches Sam fall apart just from forceful play.

Dean hated that. He wanted to see Sam in the dresses he stole for her. Either from a random lay or a store from a town they won't see for years.

It was innocent at first. Dean being so supportive, brushing her hair and calling her 'little sister' when they were alone, teaching her manners that chicks follow (he only knows them because of how many times he's heard a mom say something about their daughter.)

Dean would never say such things about Sam. Calling her a slut, a cow, a disappointment? It wasn't right, at least not to him.

When Sam finally started getting older, Dean even introduced her to different clothes. Lingerie, bras (he even had the 'it's okay to have itty bitty titties!' talk) and panties.

That's when Dean couldn't look at Sam anymore. Not when she was growing her hair out, wearing lingerie around the motel when John was gone for that small bliss of euphoria. Not when she wore black panties that always seemed to peek over her jeans.

Sam was upset. Why was Dean suddenly distant? Did he hate her? Did he not accept her anymore? She couldn't figure it out until she turned around and caught him glancing at her ass. Of course, he was horrible at being subtle. When she brought it up, he simply said 'a chick is a chick, Sammy.'

That brought up Sam's own question. Was this wrong? Was it wrong to enjoy her big brother staring at her like she was the only girl on the planet?

She had to test it. She began to buy more lingerie, purposefully changing in the middle of the motel room, where she caught Dean's glances from the reflection in the tv. She even started to bend down in front of him, dropping random stuff just to hear his rough voice say her name.

It wasn't long till Dean caught on, till he was sure that she was doing this on purpose. He would give in, but only little moves at a time.

He would grab her waist, let his hands linger on her shoulder, he even 'jokingly' grabbed a handful of her tits. It wasn't that hard, Sam was flat as a board, but he saw the way she was turning red.

They gave up being normal when Dean came back into her life, when she ran away for college.

It was hard, Sam losing her girlfriend — but it was also hard because Sam couldn't help but want Dean to touch her and comfort her in ways that definitely aren't considered acceptable.

After a month, Sam made the first move. She crawled into Dean's bed, sitting on his waist and slowly her hands over his covered chest. The thin shirt was bothering her, she leaned close to kiss his nose, whispering a small 'I love you' before laying down on him completely.

It took no less than a second for Dean's arms to snake around her, holding her close. He wouldn't say it back, not now, not when his mind is screaming about how this was all they needed.

Dean sort of hates it, seeing his baby brother leave the house looking like a pervs dream guy. Or his. It obviously hurt his feelings too, seeing Sam smile and leave without a single word.

And when Sam comes back to the motel, Dean is all over him. Asking if anyone touched him, or even dared to look at him. All Sam does is reassure Dean that nobody has touched him and that he saved himself that night for Dean.

Sam purposely acts like an asshole to Dean just to see the way his eyebrows knit together and the small scrunch of his nose, sometimes if he gets lucky he gets that little lip twitch into a snarl that drives him crazy.

Dean hates it — but he can't help but love that he gets his baby brother worked up by a simple facial expression or if he yells at anyone.

During hunts it's even harder for Sam to pay attention, listening to Dean's gruff voice as he mutters angry words at whatever they're fighting against. The blood and smell of dirt on Dean afterwards in the car is practically Sam's version of heaven.

Brothers? Boyfriends? Partners?

They have no idea, and Sam can't even think of what would happen if other people realized they were more than brothers just off a label.

But, one day, Sam had an epiphany. Why did they need to be anything? They didn't need to label themselves with a name that means nothing to them.

"We are just... us."

He saved up money from ripping people off at bars, selling things he swiped from strangers or stores, and even sometimes his own clothes and old toys.

And he uses it all on Sam. Buying the apartment, keeping Sam fed and clothed, keeping him happy and loved. He even works two jobs so when Sam is at school he can do something. He would probably lie about his age, he always looked older than he actually was. And when he finally is old enough to work legally, he just works even more.

He overdosed to talk about Sam, to ask to bring his Sammy back.

And Billie even addressed this.

"(...)You pretending you're trying to save Sam for the greater good when we both know you're doing it for you. You can't lose him."

Dean doesn't really think he's doing harm. Sam is asleep, him and the girl are quiet, and she leaves in ten minutes.

Sam starts to get irritated at this becoming a daily occurrence when their dad is out on a hunt and won't be back for a week. He stays as still as he can, hating the fact that Dean needs to go to a girl he barely knows for his needs.

Doesn't Dean know that Sam would do anything for him? That he would do all the icky things he wants just to keep the attention all on him?

Dean has a brilliant idea. He knows he probably shouldn't, but they're both dudes — it's nothing Sammy hasn't seen before.

The tv is changed to the pornos, Sam immediately looking at Dean with furrowed eyebrows. Confused, dazed by the sounds, and then Dean is stroking himself as he looks at the tv.

"Sam, don't look at me. It's weird. Just watch the screen."

Sam, of course, listens. He eventually started touching himself too, just mimicking his big brother. If Dean is doing it, it must mean that it isn't wrong.

The two of them pant and groan, their eyes slowly leaving the tv and going to each others hands, trying to match each others rhythm.

Sam is whimpering, Dean is whispering dirty words to his little brother, watching him come undone from just a couple of minutes of the tension. Once Dean finishes by shooting ropes onto his hand, they both sit there and breathe heavily.