Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

NOW...

Dean lay on the bed with the blankets twisted tightly around his body. Sam could see the sweat glistening on Dean's forehead and upper lip. The tiny droplets caught the light and looked like glitter, or stars maybe. He swallowed the saliva gathering in his mouth, the thought of it mingling with Dean's sweat making him shiver slightly and he wiped his hand across his own suddenly sweating brow.

Dean twitched and huffed out a quiet puff of air before settling back down. Without taking his eyes from Dean's face, Sam slipped out from under the covers and onto the floor. He moved carefully to the side of his brother's bed, kneeling so that their heads were level.

Dean shifted lightly in his sleep and Sam tensed, holding his breath; he didn't want Dean to wake up, vaguely knew that that would be bad, but he just... he needed to be... closer...

The soft sounds of Dean's breathing filled the quiet room, drawing Sam in, and he found himself matching breath for breath. The unease slipped quietly away and he reached out, resting his hand on Dean's chest, feeling the reassuring movement of his brother's breathing.

The musky smell of Dean's overheated skin continued to build, and reclaimed Sam's attention as he breathed in deeply, letting the scent of it fill him. The aroma was rich, almost earthy, and it enveloped him in safety and contentment, calming his slightly racing heartbeat. He leaned in closer, letting the scent pull him until he was only inches from his brother's face. The smell of Dean's breath mingled with the other scents until Sam felt swathed in Dean. It was comforting. Like home. Or at least, the only home Sam had ever known.

The shimmering wetness on Dean's upper lip caught Sam's attention once more, stirring something low in his belly. He could feel his heartbeat pick up speed and felt himself flush as he fixated on the tiny drops. Slowly, irresistibly he was drawn in until his lips were almost brushing his brother's. Tentatively, he parted his lips and inched his tongue out, just enough to brush Dean's lip with the tip of it.

Dean's eyes snapped open; he started back, away from Sam, and pressed himself into the pillow. "Sam?" Dean whispered, his eyes reflecting confusion and apprehension, though he was completely, immediately awake.

Unease filled Sam as he felt his brother pull away, and he moved closer, chasing Dean's lips with his own, needing the comfort of his brother's touch. "Dean, please," he murmured, moving so that their lips slipped lightly together, a barely felt tickle of flesh against flesh.

He felt Dean's withdrawal as hands pushed against him, pushed him back, away from what he so desperately needed. "Sam, no! Stop it!"

The voice was loud in the quiet of the room, and the command pierced his body, his heart. Sam forced himself back from Dean in response, landing with his butt on the floor and scrambling away until his back hit the other bed. The pain of the separation was splitting him in two, and he brought his knees up, wrapping his arms around them, squeezing his eyes shut in a hopeless attempt to block out his awareness of Dean.

A low moan escaped, though he tried to keep it in. His heart was racing, his breath was short and quick, and panic was making all rational thought impossible. He dug his fingers painfully into his arms as he tried desperately to get himself back under control. He could feel tears prickle at the backs of his eyes as he rocked himself with quick, short little movements accompanied by a litany he was only barely aware he had started, "Dean... Dean..."

Strong hands wrapped around Sam's biceps, and Sam's eyes snapped open as his breath caught and held. Dean was kneeling next to him on the floor, the hold on his arms strong and reassuring. His panic eased slightly with his brother's closeness, and he locked his eyes with Dean's, frantically looking for... He didn't know what he was looking for; he only knew he needed his brother close. Needed to feel Dean's skin pressed close against his own.

"Oh God, Sammy... I'm sorry, I thought we had this shit beat." Dean's words barely registered.

Sam couldn't take his eyes off his brother's lips. He moved forward suddenly, catching Dean's lips with his own, opening his mouth over Dean's as if he could swallow him whole.

"Fuck, Sam!" Dean said, jerking back and pushing Sam away once more, horror clearly visible in his expressive eyes. Sam felt the blood drain from his face, and sat frozen as he watched Dean stand up and practically run toward the door. Dean reached for the handle before stopping himself. His breathing was heavy as he stared at the knob, his hand hovering above it, but not connecting.

"Shit!" he suddenly shouted as he slammed his fist into the door just above the handle. He then whirled around, slamming his back into the door as he cradled his now injured hand. "Fuck!" Dean swore as he looked up to face Sam. As they stared at each other, Dean's angry features softened. "Jesus, Sammy..." Dean said softly, his voice breaking on the last syllable. His pain and confusion were clear in his posture, on his face. Wearily, he ran his hand through his short hair as he stared at Sam, bringing his hand around to grip his jaw briefly before flinging it down. "Hell, Sammy, I should've... I just... I... I really thought we had this thing beat..." Dean's voice was almost a whisper and filled with self-recrimination.

A moment of stillness followed the statement as they stared at each other. Sam couldn't move, couldn't think as he stared into his brother's scared, conflicted eyes.

A sense of energy, pressure, seemed to build in the room, slowly. Anticipation that something was about to happen almost tangible in the air.

Overwhelming need suddenly filled Sam in a rush, almost crippling in its intensity. He tensed his muscles, prepared to get up, to move to Dean and to close the gap that separated them.

He'd die if he didn't.

He was sure of it, but... a small awareness remained that Dean wanted him to stay away. With a monumental effort of will, he forced himself to remain on the floor where he was.

Sam's heart was racing once more; it was going to beat right out of his chest. Pain started spinning through his body, moving from his chest out to his extremities in waves. He knew what was coming; he'd been through this before, and he braced himself for the agonizing spasms that would be striking any second.

His awareness narrowed to the demands of his body. He trained his eyes on the ugly pattern of the bedspread as he desperately sucked in steadying breaths to keep the pain away. He sensed Dean's presence before he felt the comforting pressure of arms circling around him and holding on tight. "Oh god, Sammy, I'm so sorry," he heard as lips pressed against his own.

He stiffened in response, trembling with the effort required to hold himself still. Dean's warm lips continued to press against the skin of Sam's face as Dean muttered apologies under his breath.

"Dean, no..." Sam managed to get out through clenched teeth. "I need..." He slipped a hand against Dean's chest but couldn't make himself push hard enough to move Dean away. "You... don't want..." Sam desperately tried to organize his thoughts, but everything was muddied by his overwhelming need, leaving him confused, unable to figure out what he was trying to say.

Dean's voice continued to wash over him, eroding the tension that was holding his body almost rigid. "It's okay Sam," Dean whispered as he pressed another kiss to Sam's lips. "We'll be okay, I promise." He pressed more kisses across Sam's forehead and then trailed them back down to his lips once more. "You need this..." Sam felt the wet warmth of Dean's tongue slip across his lips, and with a groan he opened his mouth to let him in, "...and I need you to be alright... please..."

Sam couldn't think anymore, and he reached out to cup the sides of Dean's face in his hands as he let his tongue slowly explore his brother's sweet mouth, let himself soak up the exquisite taste. "Need you, Dean..." Sam pulled back slightly to whisper into Dean's mouth. He locked his eyes with Dean's, searching for anger or hatred, felt something ease in his chest when he didn't find it.

"I know, Sammy. I've got you..." Dean replied.