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You Feel Like A Virgin, Sammy

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Sam followed after Dean, into the thick of the trees by the stretch of highway notorious for gobbling up men. Research had been iffy, and they couldn't get out and do their interviews until tomorrow, so exploring the highway was all that was left.

The EMF had gone crazy where they pulled onto the side of the road, and that was when they caught the smell through the open windows.

It wasn't unpleasant, it was nice actually, but it didn't exactly fit. A warm kind of ozone meant for hotter climates before a storm, in the middle of summer. The smell of rain, but not a cloud in the sky, no moisture in the air.

Well, surely they weren't going to their deaths, they didn't fit the pattern. They weren't single on this hunt, they had each other.

Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam with a grin, and Sam realized how much Dean had been itching to hunt with him again, just the two of them.

He let it warm his heart for the moment. They weren't in danger yet.

"Wow, what the fuck?"

As soon as they walked a few feet into the trees, they were greeted with a flash like lightning, but one that didn't come from the sky. Instead, there was an old looking metal object in the middle of a clearing, water running in little streams around it, in and out of the trees. Sam swore the light had come from there.

Dean was advancing, but Sam grabbed him by the shoulder. "Dean, wait- don't touch it."

"I wasn't gonna touch it," Dean griped, shaking him off.

They both got closer, squatting down among the streams to look. Sam recognized a shape and runes similar to ancient representations of Thor's hammer, but this was different from what he had seen in textbooks. Rather than figures of gods, this was covered in carvings of vegetables and fruit and flowers.

Dean looked at him, and Sam realized how strong the smell was here, just like a storm. Dean's hand brushed his, and there was another flash, a spark where they touched that didn't hurt, but filled Sam with an unfamiliar kind of energy that unnerved him to his core.

Sam grabbed Dean's hand suddenly, looking him all over, his eyes wide. "Dean- you okay? Are you hurt?" Terrified Dean had taken the brunt of a shock, burned to death from the inside out.

"No, I- yeah. I mean, I'm fine, Sammy." Dean stared at him, concerned. "Are you okay?" And then Dean was stroking his cheek, a light, careful touch.

It didn't last.

Dean had grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair and yanked him into a kiss, and Sam felt dizzy. His brother. His brother was kissing him, biting and tonguing his mouth, wet and practiced and good, and Sam moaned before he shoved Dean off, wide eyed.

Dean blinked at him, appearing otherwise completely sane. "What's wrong, Sammy?" Then, a grin, "I thought you'd like being tongue-fucked by your own brother. And fucked senseless, but that comes later." He moved closer, and Sam fell onto his back in a shock, Dean climbing over him. Not touching, just looking, a smug smile on his face. Then he brought his knee up, nudging Sam's legs apart, thigh pressing lightly between his legs.

Sam blinked, and tried to remember how they got here. He remembered waking up, being in the restaurant- and then time moved so fast. How did...?

Oh. He was dreaming.

Fuck, Sam had been plagued for weeks with super-realistic dreams about his girlfriend dying on the ceiling, so a dream about his brother hitting on him was actually a welcome change. Granted, he was sure it would still make him feel guilty after, but this time he felt like he actually had agency, could do something in this dream.

And Sam, for all he bitched at Dean just to enjoy the back-and-forth, get a rise out of him and the most emotions Dean was comfortable showing (mutual feigned anger and annoyance), actually liked his brother a lot.

And while he never, ever let his waking self admit it, would never, even under pain of death, he might as well enjoy his freaky dreams for once.

There was an undeniable shot of arousal that went through him any time he imagined his big brother holding him down, fucking him, taking advantage of him. Of course, that was just the fantasy. Dean would never take advantage of him, because Dean was better than that and because it wouldn't be taking advantage, since Sam wanted it with every fibre of his being.

Sam smiled sly up at him, sure he was off the hook, panting on his back, bangs knocked off of his forehead and exposing his pleased eyes. His short, layered hair was mussed around him, and he looked like he belonged here hidden in the trees, innocent and wild. "What makes you think so, pervert? Get off me." Sam shoved at him, just barely, laughing soft and breathless as he did so. Not convincing anyone.

It was just a dream, fuck, he could let himself have this. Be open with Dean, have some fun. It wasn't real.

Dean ignored his protests, sinking in against him with a wolfish grin and wrestling his arms out of the way after some playful struggle, pinning his wrists to the ground. "Because." Dean stole a wet, sucking kiss from his lips. "It's just a dream. I can do anything I want to you in here, and you'll like it. We've been down this road before, right baby? I don't gotta tell you how this works."

Sam panted against Dean's lips, rock-hard in his jeans, the slightest smile on his own mouth.

"You're so fucking dirty. I have a gorgeous girlfriend waiting for me back at college, and instead of wanting to fuck h-her" Sam's breath stuttered at Dean's lips on his neck, sucking in a mark, "you wanna fuck me? Your own little brother. Explain that one."

"What can I say?" Dean dragged his teeth across Sam's jaw, was tearing open Sam's shirt, leaving him gasping. "You know you've always come first in my eyes, Sammy. Girls don't hold a candle to you. No one does." Dean was laying kisses across Sam's jaw, then his tongue was in Sam's mouth again, deep, languid, claiming. Fuck, taking his time and enjoying it, judging by how their moans were mixing and his brother's cock was grinding against his own.

Sam's eyes were rolling back in his head, as much from Dean's words as anything else. Fuck, the very idea of Dean wanting him like that could make his cock drip, but hearing it, Dean's voice so dirty and dripping arousal?? Sam felt so turned on he could've cried. His brain really knew what he wanted, didn't it?? Not just Dean, but Dean as desperate for Sam as Sam was for him, and in the very same way. Picking him first, and not even giving him a choice about it. There wasn't even any room for the slightest guilt, with Dean making the decisions and making it clear that he wasn't letting Sam say no. Sam couldn't remember ever feeling happier.

Dean had stripped Sam's shirt off while they made out, heedless of anything around him, ready to fuck him in the woods on the ground. Now he was gripping and squeezing Sam's pecs, brushing his thumbs up rough over Sam's nipples and making him arch and pant into his mouth. And every time Sam tried to wrench his wrists free to get some of Dean's clothes off as well, Dean just held him down harder, gave Sam a rougher roll of the hips that made him groan and gasp and arch up to rub back against him.

"Dean, please-" Sam twisted in his grip, breathing heavily, on display.

"Sorry, Sammy. Can't let you go. I know how bad you want big brother's cock fucking into you and making you dirty." Dean rutted against him to emphasize his words, and Sam wasn't even ashamed of the slutty noises he was making. Wasn't real. "Never could admit it, could you? 'Ts okay, I'm gonna make you feel so good, you'll be ruined for anyone else. Gonna ruin that tight little hole every day for the rest of your fucking life, babe. Just you and me, now that I've got you where I want you."

Dean was speaking against his lips, biting at them, growing rougher as Sam struggled harder, then finally let out a loud moan, his breaths coming fast and wrecked at the fantasy Dean was describing.

"Yes- yes, please. Make me yours. I want it, I've always wanted it- fuck me, Dean. Please, fuck me, big brother. Make me stay. Don't give me a choice. You have me. Keep me."

Dean let go only to rip off his own clothes, Sam helping him along, and then he was yanking down Sam's underwear and jeans in one frantic movement so he could hold him down again. No- Dean pulled off his amulet, the one given to him by Sam, and wrapped the cord around Sam's wrists, then shoved a long knife through a space in the cord, the hilt pinning the cord tight into the ground and pinning Sam's hands above his head.

It was all symbolic now. Dean could hold Sam down if he really wanted to, could do anything he wanted to him, waking or asleep, but Sam could get out of this if he pulled, despite the firm ground keeping the long knife in place, the cord was very breakable, but Sam would never break it.

Sam twisted his arms as he gazed up at Dean, muscles flexing with it, his chest in particular. Just putting on a show.

Their cocks dripped and twitched, thick and heavy between them, each Winchester eating the other up with his eyes, and Dean's hand smoothing gently from Sam's temple and down his cheek.

"That's right, baby. All mine. Forever. I promise." Dean gave him a sweet kiss, slower than before, tapping the amulet's cord at Sam's wrist, even as his other hand ran up and down Sam's cock, groping, not to mention dipping to roll his balls in his hand, and even further to rub at his taint and play with his twitching hole. "That's what this means. This cord, this is ours," Dean said, rolling a knuckle against Sam's tight hole. "Means you're mine forever. Always meant that. This'll never break. And I love it."

Sam surprised himself, tears rolling down his cheeks (boy, he could hear the real Dean teasing him now, Sam Winchester cries during sex, and wants to be fucked by his big brother), and that was the exact moment when Dean pressed a long, thick lubed finger up his ass, and it felt so good. Sam gasped, glancing at the discarded packet- of course that horndog came prepared, and then Dean's eyes, which were gazing into his own lovingly even as he fingered him, rolled the base of his thick, wet finger around the edges of Sam's hole and made his toes curl, made him begin to twitch and spread around Dean's finger already. He felt safe, loved, moaned and twisted and spread his legs on Dean's rough finger, was rewarded with a second one pushing into him wet and hard and making him whimper in pleasure.

"You feel like a virgin, Sammy," Dean said with a grin, fucking him on his fingers, spreading them and curling them and making Sam gasp for breath. He added a third and twisted hard, and Sam realized he was arching up against them, riding his big brother's fingers for all he was worth, mouth hanging open and moans working out of him shamelessly.

"I am- I mean, I've never- not there," Sam tried to explain through labored breaths. "I'd never want it to be anyone else. Just you. I've been saving it for you."

"That's my boy." Dean was beaming down at him, pulled out just to slick up his cock. Sam took a sharp breath in anticipation, but couldn't look away from Dean's eyes, couldn't know when to be ready. Fuck, he didn't care. Even if it hurt, and fuck it looked like it would, he'd like it. He'd still come fast. He'd still enjoy it. "My sweet baby boy," Dean added, pressing the thick, wet head of his cock up against Sam's hole and then shoving the head inside.

Sam cried out and arched, but Dean closed his mouth over Sam's and began fucking into him slowly, back and forth and deeper each time, and Sam was crying again, while his big brother kissed him senseless and fucked him slow, speared him on his cock, down to the hilt now. Agonizingly slow, made him feel every inch.

"Feel good?" Dean was breathless, watching him, fucking his face with his eyes while he was fucking his virgin hole with his wide cock, and Sam was gasping for air now that Dean's tongue wasn't rubbing against his own and shoving down his throat, claiming that end of him too.

"It f-feels- so good, Dean," Sam managed, eyebrows drawn high, cheeks wet. He was squirming back against Dean with everything he had, meeting every movement, his hole stretched impossibly tight around his big brother's fat cock. The feeling was driving him insane- no escape, just the ever-present stretch, the driving force that was Dean fucking into him without giving him the slightest reprieve. Sometimes it was too overwhelming, being so full, that sensitive ring of muscle stretched so fucking tight around that wet heat, hard and heavy and driving into him, and Sam reflexively, instinctively tried to arch and squirm away, get off his cock, overwhelmed with pleasure. Dean only yanked Sam back down on his cock with the bruising grip on his hips each time, huffing and groaning, turned on even more by Sam's desperation, the way he was overwhelmed but couldn't get away. Sam felt so fucking young and small and powerless, being fucked by his big brother, treated so roughly and so gently at the same time, and he wanted to burst with how much he liked it. If he wasn't ruined for anyone else before (he was), he was now. No one would ever be what Dean was to him, be able to make him feel this way, much less be able to treat him like this.

"That's it Sammy, take it, you know you want it," Dean was saying as Sam squirmed up again, kissing at his lips, yanking him onto his cock and fucking him harder. Calloused fingers, strong, sure, hands, his gorgeous big brother, big green eyes glued to Sam while they gasped and fucked.

Sam nodded and whimpered, gasped out "yes" when he could get a breath, kissed Dean and pressed up to fuck himself harder on Dean's cock when Dean's grip would let him. Too much and not enough, and it just got better as Dean sped up, fucked him harder. "Dean-" Dean yanked the knife out of the ground to mercifully loop Sam's bound wrists over his head to rest around his neck, gave his muscles a break and let Sam pull them closer and kiss him harder with what little grip he could get. "Dean- Dean, so good. Always wanted you. Fucking me so good-"

It was a lot easier to get some kind of leverage now, Sam's hands balled into fists where they were wrapped in the cord, the amulet bouncing against Dean's back as Dean fucked him hard- Sam bouncing on the cool, mossy ground, maneuvered so carefully by his big brother. And Sam could just press his forearms to Dean, jerk his hips up and bounce on Dean's cock, help his brother fuck him senseless. Too much. Sam had been trying to fight off his orgasm, make it last, but it was too much-

"I know, baby brother. Always wanted to be forced onto your big brother's cock like this, huh? Already knew you were mine? Don't come yet, hold on for me, Sammy."

Sam did as he was told. Couldn't- couldn't disobey Dean. Wanted to listen. Come for him when he was allowed. It only made everything feel better, more intense than ever. Maddening.

"Y-yeah, Dean!" Sam cried out as Dean changed the angle, hitting deeper and overwhelming him all over again, and Sam had no idea how Dean managed to kiss him so sweetly while he was fucking him like this, soft but wet and dirty between rougher thrusts, now, except for the occasional moment where Dean got greedy, closed his mouth over Sam's again and took everything he wanted, fucked a little rougher into both ends, both holes, tongue and cock. Accentuated each thrust and fucked him savagely, grip painfully tight and perfect,, and then he'd back off, just enough for Sam to come down, new tears streaming down his troubled-looking face, begging for more with his eyes, with the gape of his mouth and the crease in his brow.

All the words he got for his trouble were "so fucking beautiful, Sammy," between grunts and gasps on Dean's rough voice, freckled muscles working to drive into him just enough, Dean's face more handsome than ever when he was watching Sam like this.

Love and lust, the same fixed, obsessed gaze Sam had been the subject of so many times before, but more open than ever.

Sam's chest shook, and he realized he was rambling to Dean, begging for more, "-can take it, Dean, do me. F-fuck me like you wanna, I-I know you want it! Don't stop this time. I wanna take it from you, all you can give me-" Sam stopped with a gasp when Dean stopped moving, breathing heavily over him, gave him a sly smirk.

Sam sobbed when Dean pulled out, grasped at nothing with bound hands, shook his head. "No, Dean, no, put it back, put your cock in me, please fuck me- Dean, no, no-" Sam went quiet, eyes wild when Dean folded his legs up even higher and fucked into him suddenly, and then he was jerking with each wild thrust, Dean fucking him mercilessly. Sam was screaming, scrabbling at the air and calling Dean's name, unable to do anything but be held down and fucking take it, his cock bouncing and throbbing, his insides clenching around his big brother, heated and so, so overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Not allowed to come. Not yet. You'd- you'd never say no to me," Dean gasped, effectively fucking Sam's brains out, gripping Sam's broad shoulders and grunting with each desperate thrust into his tight heat, their bodies slapping together loudly but nothing compared to Sam's moans and screams. "Would you, S-Sammy? Never say no to big brother's cock-"

"N-no! No, Dean!" Sam's eyes rolled back and he clenched around him, trying to breathe even under such an assault, stretched so wide and folded so small, legs bouncing. "Never- want- I-I, fuck! Want you, Dean!" He managed to make eye contact despite the jolting thrusts, the insane ecstasy he could so easily close his eyes to, "love you- I love you so much, Dean. My- my big brother."

Dean choked on his own breath, hips stuttering, and that was it. He couldn't help himself, arched to slam against Sam's sweet spot directly, hard, pound into him. "Fuck, Sammy, I love you too, so much baby, too much- come for me-" Sam tensed and arched and screamed, and he was coming hard, making a mess and squirting come over both of them, squeezing tight around Dean's cock where it pulsed and twitched and fucked into him, impossibly deeper as Dean came. Came inside his little brother (eyes on him and memorizing every moment), and that fact just made Sam writhe and jerk and come again, filled to the brim with Dean's seed, his heartbeat wild and feeling like it was pulsing all over his body, enveloping him.

"Dean- D-De," Sam gasped, wiggling his arms and sounding forlorn, and Dean pulled the amulet free- slipped it around Sam's neck, reverent. As soon as his hands were free, Sam was cupping Dean's face and pulling it even closer, lovingly, couldn't decide whether he wanted to kiss him or stare into his eyes; ended up doing both, in turn.

"Sammy. Love you, Sammy," Dean whispered, returning the looks, the deep, passionate kisses, stroking Sam's face and hair with a clean hand and wrapping an arm around him, holding their bodies close, even while they were still connected, he was still inside Sam's body. "So much. I'll always take care of you, little brother."

Tears streaked down Sam's face anew, and they stayed like that, kisses and whispers and comfort for each other. And it was such a nice dream, as realistic as all those terrible ones, but one Sam actually wished with all his heart would come true. Dean, pouring his heart out, dedicated first and foremost to him, forever. Not hunting, not revenge. Just him. Staying with him and focusing on him, the way Sam needed. Nothing in the way, taking Dean from him and threatening to take Dean away forever, no terrible possibility of Dean's death for Sam to run away from, even if that meant running from Dean, building walls and space between them.

Just the two of them. Finally free.


When Sam woke up on a soft bed of dry moss, treetops and white clouds on blue sky above him, Dean was still holding him in his arms, and there were finger-sized bruises on his hips- among others.

And, well. His insides were very much coated in Dean.

Dean's long-lashed eyes fluttered open, searching, landing on Sam, the sweet smile he'd worn in his sleep still plastered on his face. He ran his fingers through Sam's hair, kissed lightly over Sam's face, tender in a way Sam didn't know he was capable of. Well, not so easily, so openly.

"Man, this is the most realistic dream yet," Dean said, admiring Sam in the comfortable shade and sunlight, rubbing Sam's side soothingly with one hand.

"Uh... yeah." Sam smiled, nervous, but trying to keep it in. Don't panic. He kissed Dean, soft, then again, urgently, dreading what would come. Dean's denial was the best Sam could hope for, and he knew it would come eventually, even if Dean tried to keep those promises...

Dean kissed him back happily, spoiled him with gentle touches, smiled at him... and his smile was slowly replaced with a look of surprise. "Oh..." Dean sighed, dropping his head to Sam's chest. "Well. Fuck. Might as well finish this thing up right."

"Mm?" Sam looked at him, eyes wide, on the verge of panic. Clearly, Dean had realized that no one here was dreaming, and Sam expected to be dropped, expected Dean to bolt.

Dean peered up at him, brushed a curl back from Sam's forehead. "I know you know how I treat the wom- er, people I have sex with," Dean said, one eyebrow raised. "Gonna take care of you, after a fuck like that. God damn." Dean was eyeing Sam all over.

Sam gave him a small, relieved smile, one that was returned, and their fingers linked.

"Well..." Dean started, considering. "Obviously I'll fix you up. Take care of you, make sure you don't ache too much and my debts for leaving those bruises are repaid..." He blinked, stroking and fondling Sam's chest in a way that was making Sam blush bright pink, all the way down. "But normally, first, I'd go for a round 2."