Beren (beren_writes) wrote,

Fic: Stress Relief, Supernatural, Sam/Dean, NC17/18, Day 31

We are at the end, my friends. Thank you for all your comments, I have loved every one.

Title: Stress Relief (Masturbation challenge 31)
Author: Beren
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17/18
Summary: Sometimes saving the day does not mean saving everyone and Dean knows this, but Sam can't always handle it.
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.
Warnings: wincest, angst
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta. This is 31 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: 2,214
Link: to other mmom fic

"Sam," Dean watched Sam dragging clothes out of his pack angrily and he had to say something, "we won this one. The thing's dead; it's not ..."

Sam's glare stopped him dead; there was so much anger and pain in his brother's eyes that for once in his life words failed him. He had known this hunt had hit Sam hard, but until that moment he had had no idea how hard. The visions had been strong for this one even though it seemed to have nothing to do with the demon that had wrecked their family, but at the beginning Sam hadn't seemed to mind.

As Sam stalked towards the bathroom Dean could not help remembering the smiling face that had looked out of the paper at then as soon as they'd hit town; there had been a kid involved in this one. The bad guy this time had been a Japanese child-eating demon imported by accident in a very valuable statuette. Separating the statue from a more modern shrine in the name of restoration had freed the demon and it had been hungry.

Without Sam's visions they never would have found it, since it had left no trail. Sam's power, whatever it really was, had solved the hunt, but Dean knew that wasn't the bit Sam was remembering. When Dean had rounded a corner in the old house, to which they'd tracked the demon, and found Sam talking gently to thin air, he'd known. It had been like a kick in the guts, especially since the way Sam had been acting he had also been sure that Sam had no idea.

By Dean's estimation when they found the body they'd been about two days too late to save the kid. He had hated to see the realisation dawn in Sam's eyes that he'd been communicating with a ghost, but the demon hadn't stood a chance after that. The light had gone out of its eyes very quickly, but it hadn't returned to Sam's and that worried Dean more than he cared to admit.

He searched through his own pack, trying to decide whether to clean the guns or just strip out of his soiled clothes and wait for his turn in the bathroom, but he found himself continually looking at the closed bathroom door. There were angry crashes coming from behind it and when he heard the shower start and a particularly loud bang follow it, he'd had enough. He walked purposefully towards the door and took hold of the handle, where he paused.

Touchy feely stuff was not his strong point, he never tried to deny it and he didn't really know what to do. Dad would have just left Sammy to it and let him brood, but Dean knew better than that; Sam needed him, and, for once, not to make stupid jokes. They had become lovers more by accident than anything else after a drunken night in a bar. They'd woken up naked together with evidence of what they had been doing very clear. Dean had wanted to forget the whole thing and pretend it had never happened, but Sam hadn't let him. He'd seen a whole other level of his brother since then and he'd realised that Sam wasn't a moody bastard because he'd never grown out of the teenage rebellion; it was because Sam felt things so deeply that most of the time it hurt.

Dean knew he could go through life without looking too far down, without wondering about the meaning of everything, but he knew that Sam couldn't. It was a fundamental difference between them and at times like this it showed. Dean felt things, but he had a defence mechanism between him and the world and the only things that got through were family; Sam seemed to be completely the opposite. Dean had learned after mom died that thinking too hard hurt, so he didn't let himself do it; Sam had never taken that lesson on board.

Opening the door he walked into the bathroom and took in the whole scene with one glance. Sam was standing under the shower spray with his head down and there was not even a flicker of acknowledgement. The rest of the bathroom was a mess; things everywhere and Dean noted that Sam was going to need a new toothbrush and razor since both appeared to have been thrown against the wall with enough force to break them. Sam only started breaking things when he was about to snap and Dean stripped without another thought.

He had no intention of being gentle; Sam didn't respond to gentle when he was this far gone and Dean was far better at direct. He pulled the clear shower curtain back and stepped in before pulling it back into place, taking hold of Sam's shoulders and turning him before pushing his brother into the wall. There was just enough room for him to stand right in front of Sam in the tub sideways if they were nose to nose.

Sam looked ready to fight, but Dean pushed his hip hard against Sam's groin and took the wind out of his brother's sails. A mixture of desire and defeat warred in the cloudy green eyes looking into his.

"This kid had been dead days, Sammy," Dean said as water cascaded over both of them, "it's not your fault."

Silence answered that affirmation and Sam tried to look away; Dean caught his chin and wouldn't let him.

"We killed the thing that hurt him," he said firmly, pushing his body against Sam to pin his brother in place, "we are the good guys. We don't get to make sure Tiny Tim makes it to college, but we freed that kid's soul, Sam. That monster hasn't got him anymore and that's what called us here."

Sam frowned at him, face full of confusion.

"But why didn't I know he was dead?" the question was no more than a whisper and the pain Dean heard in Sam's voice made him want to wrap Sam up in his arms and never let him go.

"Maybe because you needed to believe he was alive to find him," Dean said eventually, "or because he didn't really understand that he was dead; I don't know. It doesn't matter, Sammy; we did what we do best, we killed the monster. We didn't create it and we sure as hell didn't release it, but we did clear up the mess as usual. We did our jobs and you did what ever it is you do; hell, I couldn't even see the kid. He's at rest because of you, so give yourself a damn break for once in your life."

When Sam tried to look away this time he let him, because he'd seen the beginnings of acceptance in his brother's eyes. It would take Sam days to get over this, but now Dean knew that it would happen. It was time to take both their minds off the whole thing and, since Dean's hip was still pushed snugly against Sam, he could not help but notice that his brother was having a rather natural reaction to the pressure. Experimentally he moved just a little and watched Sam carefully to gauge his brother's response; he didn't want to push too hard too fast.

The way Sam's eyes flicked back to him, still clouded with confusion, but lit by that little spark Dean knew so well, he was sure Sam was ready. Sex had always been his weapon of choice for numbing the pain and forgetting about what lurked out in the darkness and he never hesitated to use it when it came to Sam. Mindless sex with the next pretty girl had never really solved anything, but with Sam it was a different matter. He had discarded the idea that this was wrong the first time he had seen that light in Sam's eyes, the one he could see now, the one that told him Sam was his and he was Sam's. They were not normal people, they never would be and the only person each of them had that could understand that was the other.

Dad had been normal once, but neither of them had had enough life before the hunt to know anything else. Sammy had tried to run from it, to find normal, but Dean knew his brother did not really understand normal anymore than he did. They were bound together now in every way and Dean refused to regret that.

Reaching for the shower gel Sam insisted they always buy, Dean leaned in and captured his brother's mouth in a hot and hungry kiss. The time for talking was over and he claimed what was his with the same enthusiasm he put into the hunt. As he pushed his tongue into Sam's mouth his brother opened for him and moaned. Dean repositioned himself so that they were erection to erection and he pushed Sam harder against the wall, moving so that their cocks rubbed firmly against each other.

He had not known until that moment how to play this, but the way Sam pushed back against him and groaned into the kiss, Dean knew this was not going to be slow or complicated. The way his own body throbbed hotly at the contact made him rather glad that Sam seemed to need some hard and fast stress relief.

Pulling back, he gave Sam his best sex on legs smile and poured some of the gel into his waiting hand. Sam was watching him with avid attention as he reached down between them and took both of their cocks in his slick fingers. The most delightful pleasure danced through him as he gave them both one firm stroke and the way Sam's head fell back, his eyes closed and a gasp came out of his mouth told Dean that Sam appreciated it was well.

"Fuck my hand, Sammy," Dean said in little more than a whisper, "make us both come."

The little whine in the back of Sam's throat made Dean smile and it felt incredible when Sam bucked his hips up and forward. With Sam being braced against the side wall, legs slightly bent, they were perfectly matched in height and Sam had the extra leverage to make this work. The friction against his cock was wonderful as Sam thrust up in his hand, pushing them together and Dean watched his brother's face as he moved. With every thrust the tension in Sam's features lessened and Dean felt his own worry dimming. They would make it through this one just like they always had.

Dean was so busy watching Sam that the pleasure arching through his own nerves was somehow secondary. When Sam thrust upwards whispering his name and came all over his hand it rather surprised him when he felt his own body following along. It was such a shock in fact that he had to grab for Sam to stop himself taking a header out of the tub as his orgasm ripped through him with no mercy.

Sam had always joked that he was hard wired, but he'd never had an orgasm when he wasn't paying attention before and he came back to earth wrapped in Sam's long arms. His legs felt rather like jelly, which wasn't something he'd expected from a quick one in the shower.

"Um, sorry," Sam said when Dean had gather enough of his scattered brain cells to look up, "I think I ... ah ... um."

Sam looked delightful when he was flustered, but Dean had no idea what Sam was apologising for this time.

"You think you ... ah ... um what?" he asked pushing himself away a little bit and letting the still warm water wash away the evidence of what they had been doing.

"I think I took you with me."

Sam was actually blushing, which considering what they had just done made Dean want to laugh, but he was having trouble comprehending what his brother was on about. It eventually dawned on him when he saw Sam's nose twitch in a way that it only ever did when Sammy was talking about the whole Shining thing.

"You were in my head?" Dean asked slowly as Sam looked at him awkwardly.

"Um..." Sam didn't seem to know what to say, "I ... ah ... not exactly, but I ... um ... felt something when ... and that is ... um ... you looked so surprised and ..."

Dean considered stringing this out for a while, but then his brain cells regrouped and he remembered why he was in here in the first place. At the rate Sammy was developing powers he was going to be a telepathic, telekinetic, psychic whiz kid in a couple of years and sometimes that frightened Dean a little, but he refused to let it bother him now. He gave Sam his best lecherous grin.

"Think you can do it again as I screw you into the mattress, Wonder Boy?" he asked and watched the light dawn in his brother's eyes.

Screwing your brother might not be the recommended cure for depression for your average family, but it sure as hell worked for theirs.

The End
Tags: fandom: supernatural, ficfest: mmom, fictype: series, rating: r to nc17

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