Summary: For the first time Sam admits who he really is and finds out what he really wants.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by WB and Eric Kripke et al. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta. This is 15 out of 31 short fics, all involving masturbation in honour of the Merry Month of May. All fics were written with knowledge up to Hell House, no canon after that was used since that's as far as I've seen.
Word count: 2471
Link: to other mmom fic
All the breath slammed out of Sam's lungs as he hit the wall and then he felt himself plastered against the surface by Dean's weight. They'd been arguing again and Sam knew he shouldn't have said the things that had fallen from his mouth, but Dean could be such a jerk and his brother had managed to push all of his buttons at the same time.
"You don't get to say that anymore, Sammy," Dean's voice was harsh and cold, "I've had enough."
And Sam knew it was completely true. He'd only seen that look in Dean's eyes a couple of times before and it had meant that something was about to die. Every time it had been because the evil in the dark had come after him and Dean had gone completely mental protecting him. To see that look aimed at him instead was very unsettling. For once he did not try and reply he just looked his brother in the eye.
Slowly Dean pulled back, standing away from him, breathing through his nose like he was having trouble keeping something inside. Sam could almost feel it coming off his brother, but he didn't know what it was.
"If you're going to leave, do it," Dean said coldly, "I won't let you hold that over me forever. Walk now, Sam, or never say that again, ever."
Sam didn't know what to do. It had been months since Jess had died and the thought of going back to school had been becoming more and more remote with every day. He'd only thrown it at Dean because his brother had brought up Dad and he'd snapped. He'd been having dreams about Dad for the last couple of nights that scared him, but told him nothing and he was on edge. The tension between him and Dean had been worse than ever, especially when Dean had told him he'd spoken to Dad and they were forbidden to try and find him at the moment. The threat of leaving was the only weapon Sam had, but now he knew he'd stepped over the line.
Standing there looking at Dean he felt all the strength flowing out of him and he slowly slid down the wall. He was so tired; the visions were bad, but the vague impressions of something evil were even worse and while he was fighting with Dean he had another thing to concentrate on, but Dean had just taken that away from him. His brother was not the enemy, but the arguments had been an outlet and before they had always yelled a bit and then gone back to normal, but that ease was gone now. The chink in his armour, that he had been working so hard to prevent from growing, blossomed and his psyche cracked.
Putting his head in his hands he began to cry and nothing he could do could stop the tears. Winchesters didn't cry, hell, half the time Dean and Dad seemed to be able to lock their emotions away like they didn't exist. He didn't want to be psychic; he didn't want to know what was in the dark, but he didn't want to leave. Dean was all he had left since Dad seemed to have become a stranger who wandered in and out of their lives. As his protections fell away he began to drown in the despair that had been threatening for so long.
"Sammy," Dean's voice and the touch on his arm were so gentle that Sam looked up from his hands despite himself.
Dean had crouched down and was looking at him with so much worry that Sam felt guilt crash in on top of everything else. Now he was destroying Dean too.
"I don't want to go," he said and his voice was so unsteady that he barely recognised it, "but I don't know if I can keep doing this. I'm a freak, Dean and it's just getting worse."
Dean did not say anything; his brother just looked him in the eye for a long time. Then he was being gathered into Dean's arms like he was six again and his brother was holding him in a strong embrace that felt like the only safe place in the world.
"Let it out, Sammy," Dean said quietly, no recriminations in his voice at all, "I've got you."
Something that had been scrunched up in Sam so long that he had thought it was in a permanent knot released then and he began to shake. He did not sob, but as Dean held him the tears continued to fall and it felt as if he had completely lost control of his muscles. Tension that had been there like a bad habit flowed away as he shook and Dean held him together.
Dean stroked his hair like he hadn't since Sam was small when Dean had been trying to get him to sleep and slowly the pain began to dull. He let himself drift, trusting to the care of his brother with complete faith. Time had little meaning as he listened to the rhythm of Dean's heart and his mind finally released the barriers he had been throwing into his thoughts for so many months. The guilt he had been feeling since Jess died let go and something inside clicked into place.
The warm blanket of Dean's emotions flowed over him and he did not shy away. It was strange and new as the part of himself that he had been keeping boxed away as hard as he could was freed, but for once he just let things happen and it turned out to be the most natural thing in the world. His tears slowed to a stop and he sighed, embracing the situation rather than pushing it away.
"What's that, Sammy?" Dean's voice was quiet but concerned.
Sam pulled back a little so that he could look at Dean.
"Me," he said quietly, not sure what Dean would be feeling from him, but knowing the whole atmosphere in the room had changed.
He took in all the emotions Dean was broadcasting at him, for the first time not denying that they were there and he could feel them. The barriers were broken and for the first time Sam let himself be who he really was. The caring he felt from his brother was incredible and it surrounded him with far more strength than any physical presence could. Protective, anxious and familial emotions were all there making Sam feel more loved than he had ever imagined, and there was something else as well; something hovering under all the rest, guarded and almost hidden.
Not really knowing what he was doing he mentally touched whatever it was and it exploded in his senses. He understood it in a second and it shocked him, but it did not make him pull away; it was desire. Dean did not just love him, he was in love with him and Sam knew where all the anger today had come from. He looked into his brother's eyes and he knew he was loved in all ways and it did not frighten him.
"I had no idea," he whispered almost silently.
Dean's shocked eyes looked back at him and Sam knew that his brother was aware that he had seen the truth. He also knew that Dean was about to pull away and he felt disgust growing in his brother. His body was slow from where he had been hunched on the floor too long and when he reached out to grab Dean he missed and if there was one thing that was always true about Dean it was that he was fast. Dean had the door half open before Sam had a chance to do or say anything and he reacted before his brother could run from him. It was like he was seeing the world as it really was for the first time and everything was so simple as with a thought he slammed the door.
"I'm not leaving you," Sam said firmly as Dean looked at him, afraid. "I won't ever leave you again, Dean."
There was perfect stillness only broken by the barest sound of breathing as Sam looked at Dean and his brother looked right back. Everything was new and strange and somehow right and Sam did not want to break the fragile peace he had found. He could not imagine how long Dean had felt this way, how long his brother had kept everything locked inside and the thought of losing Dean held him still. He knew their future hung on whatever he did next and psychic powers or no psychic powers he found himself afraid that he would do this wrong.
"You can go, Dean," he said eventually, knowing that Dean would never break the silence, "if you want to. I won't stop you again, but I want you to stay. I finally get it, Dean and I want you to love me; I want to love you back."
He knew Dean probably thought of it as sex, or forbidden lust, but Sam was all too aware it was more than that. It was hot with carnal desire and cold with fear, but at the core of the feeling was real warmth; Sam knew love.
"I'm sick, Sammy," Dean said eventually, brave even as he tried to condemn himself and looking Sam straight in the eye, "what I feel is wrong. I won't let my perversion touch you."
"For out there it's wrong, Dean," Sam said, weighing his words carefully, "but not for us, not for here."
He put his hand over his heart. It had always been just them and Sam knew it always would be. Dad was out there, their trainer and their ally, but when it finally came down to it, it was just them. Sam could see it so clearly that he could not understand why he had not seen it before. Dean had seen it; Dean had known and now Sam saw it clearly as well.
"You don't know what you're saying, Sam," Dean said harshly, but Sam could feel what was under the words; fear and shame.
His brother was ready to leave, ready to deny what Sam could see so clearly was true and it almost broke his heart.
"I love you, Dean," he said, letting all his desperation show. "I have always loved you, but I've been blind. I want you as desperately as you want me, please don't leave me."
Sam was willing to beg; he was willing to do anything to keep Dean. Dean had always been there for him, even when they were apart and Sam knew if Dean walked out the door now he would never see his brother again. He wanted to seal all the windows and the door, trap Dean inside and never let him go, but he also knew that he could not take the decision away from his brother. If Dean went in to this it had to be willingly or it would break into a thousand tiny splinters that would destroy both of them.
"Please," he begged.
"What happened to you, Sammy?" Dean asked. "Why now?"
It was clear that Dean did not fully understand what had been going on.
"You took away my crutch, Dean," Sam said, knowing that only the truth would do, "and I fell, but you caught me and my walls crumbled. I know who I really am now, Dean, and it's because of you."
"So you're just grateful," Dean's tone was dismissive.
"I'm psychic, Dean," Sam said hotly, "not stupid. I have things going on in my head that I don't understand, but one thing I know is that you love me and I love you and you want me and I want you. Well I'm here, Dean; take what belongs to you, what has always been yours."
Something about Sam's words lit a fire in Dean, Sam saw it and felt it and he found himself being slammed up against the wall again.
"You don't belong to anyone, Sam," Dean's words were angry; "you're your own man, that's something I've always admired about you."
Sam found himself smiling just slightly, his mouth twitching at the edges as the fire from Dean flooded him. His awakening abilities were like a rollercoaster he couldn't get off, but right then he didn't care.
"You carried me from the fire," he said in little more than a whisper, "and I've been yours since. Out there I can be anything I want, but in here I'm yours."
He knew it was true and he looked Dean right in the eyes as he spoke.
"And you're mine," he finished in a voice so quiet that had they not been completely still neither of them would ever have heard.
The kiss was blinding in its intensity and Sam surrendered to it instantly. Dean's mouth was hot and demanding as he pushed Sam against the wall and Sam felt himself almost overwhelmed by the desire and lust coming from Dean and mirrored in his own body.
"Please, Dean," Sam begged, not sure what he was begging for as Dean released his mouth.
Sam could feel the hardness in Dean's pants as his brother leaned against his hip, pushing him against the wall, and he so wanted the barriers between them to be gone, but he did not dare do anything. This had to be Dean's move all the way and Sam could do nothing but surrender to it.
Dean's lips feathered over his neck and he let his head fall back as he felt his brother's nimble fingers unbuttoning his fly and releasing his zipper. Intense pleasure seemed to be the only thing he could feel as Dean's hand slipped into his boxers and fixed around his cock. There was nothing but the feelings coming off Dean and the sensations running through his body as Sam gave himself to the now and the fire ball of lust and lover that was his brother.
He panted and writhed as Dean made him feel things he had never imagined and he opened himself to everything that was his brother. This was pleasure, this was pain, this was good, this was bad; it made no difference either way; this was how it had to be.
"Love you, Sammy," Dean all but growled in his ear, and Sam was coming.
He knew to the very depth of his soul that this was what was right for them. The world would never understand, but the world didn't matter and as, for the second time, Sam felt himself sliding down the wall towards the floor he knew only one thing for certain; this was what had to be; this was the only truth.