Chapter Text
Dean was very familiar with how uncomfortable hotel beds were, which was how he knew before he opened his eyes that he was not in a hotel bed. Everything was a little fuzzy around the edges and he struggled with the memory of yesterday. Or maybe the past couple of days, he wasn't quite sure. What had he been doing last? A case with Sam? Dean wasn't certain but it was most likely far too early to try and figure this all out. It was a lot easier to just shift in the overly comfortable bed and go back to sleep, after all there was just the faintest burn of a headache pressing in on his mind and there was little chance that someone had captured him only to deposit him in a lush bed with fluffy blankets so Dean figured he had to be fairly safe.
As he fell back into shifting dreams, Dean saw the oddest things that were like whispered pictures. Something about Sam, just the vaguest image of... something. Dean couldn't quite figure it out. Maybe someone had hit him hard on the back of his head, that seemed pretty likely.
Sam stretched his long, muscular arms up in the air as he awoke and then rolled into Dean's side and slipped his arm over Dean's chest. His fingers slipped over Dean's nipple, rubbing it gently as he nuzzled into his brother's neck. He loved waking Dean in the mornings; it had taken a full year after they gave up hunting for Dean to be able to sleep unguarded, to actually relax and let himself sleep peacefully. Sam pulled back a little and studied his brother's face; Dean looked tired, nightmare maybe. Running his hand over Dean's chest, down his belly Sam rubbed small circles over his brother's sleep-warmed flesh. He let his hand trail back up over Dean's chest, along his neck, tracing the curve of his Adam's apple, and then rubbed his thumb across his brother's bottom lip. He watched as Dean turned into the touch in his sleep and his mouth twitched into a smile.
Stretching up Sam pressed his lips to Dean's and moaned softly, "time to wake up, Dean." Sam brushed his lips across his brother's, "you smell so good in the mornings."
Things kind of fell together in slow motion until Sam's lips pressed to his and Dean's eyes shot open. He was up and out of bed in a flash, only to realize he was naked. "Sam? What the fuck?!" His eyes widened and he snatched at the blanket on the bed, pulling it over his body. It fell from Sam, exposing his own naked flesh. Dean's heart skipped a beat, two beats and he whirled around, taking in the large room with rapidly growing wider eyes.
Sam blinked a few times, looked momentarily puzzled then burst out laughing. "Dean, give it a rest and get your pretty ass in the shower or I'm going to go first and you know how long I take to get ready." Sam stretched again, body arching up off the bed, hand rubbing down the side of his long frame. He looked over to where Dean was still standing with the blanket wrapped around him, "unless," he rolled over on to his side, "you want to come back here and ... be really late for work." He grinned.
Something had obviously possessed Sam. "Christo!" He hollered, watching his brother for any signs of a wince or shudder. There was nothing. Dean looked around the room, taking in the homey feel. There were framed pictures on the wall, landscape shots, artistic shots, and a few of them. Dean's eyes shot back to Sam and his eyebrows furrowed. "What is this? Who are you? What have you done to my brother?"
"Dude," Sam chuckled as he slid his long legs off the bed, "okay hero - I'm going to shower first - just don't bitch at me later because you have to rush." As he brushed past Dean, Sam's hand darted out and squeezed his brother's thigh and he leaned down to place an open-mouthed kiss on Dean's shoulder. "I'm leaving the bathroom door open," he tossed back over his shoulder, "in case you want to join me." He was still grinning as he disappeared into the bathroom.
The twisting in his gut had him stumbling backward, falling hard against the wall. He listened to the sound of the shower turning on, Sam humming softly. Dean swallowed thickly and crossed to the dresser. He tore open the top drawer, snagging the first pair of boxers there and tugging them on. The last thing he needed was to be naked in this situation. He needed to find out what was going on. This... made no sense at all. His eyes traced the images on the wall once more, they were leaning together, smiling, laughing. Dean stumbled down the hall, eyes scanning over the signs of a domestic life. A living room with nice furniture, a large TV, a sizable movie collection. More pictures, them on the beach, them with a few girls and guys who must be friends, arms slung over each other casually.
Someone must have gone through a lot of work to create this... world. Could they have brain washed Sam? Was that even a possibility? He stumbled into the kitchen next. A fridge stocked full of food, cabinets with dishes and silverware. It was what you would expect to find in any average house, belonging to any average person. Only there was nothing average about it where Dean was concerned. Cabinet after cabinet he pulled open and there were no weapons, no rock salt, and no signs that they had any protection here at all. The air left Dean's lungs in quick pants and he curled his fingers around the counter top, head spinning. He dipped down for a moment before straightening himself and breathing deep.
"Oh, Dean, I forgot," Sam hollered from the bedroom. He padded down the hallway and into the kitchen, towel slung low around his waist as he rubbed a second towel over his damp hair. "I spoke to Garrett, they're having a BBQ tomorrow night and I said we'd help out - we'll just open the gate again between the yards and use both yards. They always invite too many people!" Sam looked around the kitchen, "you didn't even start the coffee." He leaned into Dean's chest and kissed his forehead, "you don't have a fever." He puttered about the kitchen making coffee and toast. When he slid a cup of coffee on the counter in front of Dean - he noticed his brother still hadn't moved, "Dean, seriously, what's going on? You okay?"
Dean's shoulders were so tense he could hardly move. The rich aroma of the coffee wafted up toward him and he inhaled deeply, taking comfort in something familiar since everything else was anything but. "What the fuck... is this?" He hissed the words, fingers clenching at his sides. "Are you fucking with me Sam? Is this some sort of... sick game?"
Flinching back a little, a hurt expression on his face Sam stared into Dean's eyes. "Dean? What is... what? This isn't funny anymore." Sam stepped into his brother's side and slid his arms around Dean's waist, pulling him close. "I know you're joking, but it scares me when you pretend you don't want... us... don't 'kay?" Sam's lips brushed across Dean's cheek as he whispered the words.
"I..." Dean dragged his tongue across his lips, distinctly aware of Sam's still slightly damp chest against his. He laid a hand on his brother's shoulder and gently pushed him away, stepping back. "I don't know... this isn't... this isn't my world... what do you mean us? What... oh fuck I need to sit down." He stumbled to the chair and dropped heavily down onto it.
Sam scrubbed a hand down his face. He was getting pissed off - and he was going to be late for work if Dean didn't stop pissing around. "Dean, are you sick? Or are you just being an asshole?" But, Dean's face was wrong, Sam knew him well enough to know when he was joking around - he just wasn't that good an actor. "Hey," Sam knelt down at Dean's feet looking up into his eyes, "what's wrong?" His fingers curled into Dean's thighs, anxiety wriggling its way into his body
Dean stared down at the fingers on his thighs and bit back the urge to jump up and punch his brother hard in the face. Clearly whatever had done this to them was still using it's mojo on Sam and the last thing Dean wanted was to create more tension between them. It was already something he had to deal with constantly. "Where are we? Sam... God the last thing I remember is heading to Arkansas, there was that creature who was fucking with people... and you had one of those dreams and we were..." Dean scrunched up his face as he tried to pull forth the memory. It was even cloudier now then it had been when he was struggling to wake up. He couldn't remember anything about the creature they'd been hunting, which had him stopping. "It had to be the thing. It did something to us. Shit. And you can't remember any of it?"
"Remember?" Sam's voice was soft, shaking a little, "Dean? W... We've been here for... for over a year, Port Angeles - you wanted to be near the ocean and... and... Dean?" Sam pushed his way in between Dean's legs, arms tightening around his brother's waist. "Dean?"
"Uh..." Dean blinked rapidly, torn in half in one split moment. He wanted to protect his brother - like he always wanted too - but Dean was very aware of the fact that he was in boxers and Sam was in a towel and this was very... not good. Still, his arms reached out and circled around Sam slowly as he cleared his throat. "A... year? We've lived... but... we hunt. We don't..." he shook his head and he stared down into Sam's wide, glassy eyes. "Sam... are you... are we... together?" He tried not to make the word sound as squeaky as it came out but the idea was so ludicrous, Dean couldn't help it.
Sam's body stiffened, "don't... don't do that," he shook his head, "we are together. You said... it was okay... you said..." Sam's arms fell away from Dean's waist slowly. "D..D..Did you get hurt at work or something, Dean? Maybe get hit on the head." He looked down, his heart in his mouth, "I'm... I'm going to be late for work, do you..." he looked up at Dean, tears welling in his eyes, "do you want me to call in sick and take you to the doctor? Just stay with you?"
"Head. Yeah, I must have... I guess..." He frowned and pushed the chair back, and tangled his hands in his hair. "You, you go to work. I'll be okay. Am I supposed to... do I work? I should stay home." Dean's brain racked over things he could do to fix this. He needed to do research, call Bobby, something.
Standing, Sam ran his fingers through his damp hair. "I'll call the shop and tell Dan to take over for the day - gotta be some benefits to being the boss, yeah?" He offered Dean a soft smile. He held out a shaking hand to Dean, "are we okay?"
"What? Uh, sure Sam. Yeah, we're okay," Dean nodded and stared at Sam's hand. This was... this was not good. Somehow Dean had woken up in a world that wasn't his and everything was so upside down he didn't even know where to start freaking out first. For now though, the best thing to do was go along with whatever this was - within reason of course. He needed to figure things out without drawing much more attention to the fact that he was in over his head. Stepping forward he let his hand fall into Sam's and brought him forward. No matter what, this was still his brother, and Dean could find comfort in wrapping his arms around him in a firm hug. Even if they were still both shirtless which was... awkward.
Sam let out a sigh and buried his face in Dean's hair. "Don't do that again - I ..." his voice trailed off as he pulled back. Smiling he licked his bottom lip and then leaned in for a kiss, slow and lazy, his tongue running teasingly over Dean's bottom lip. "Okay, I'm gonna go get dressed." He stepped away from Dean shaking his head and moved quickly down the hallway to get ready. Monica was going to kill Sam if he was late for work; she had a big case to try and had called Sam away from all his other projects to do the majority of her research. His brother... well, ever since they decided to make a life for themselves - there was never a dull moment - that was for sure. He pressed his lips together, and searched through his clothes till he found a nice shirt. He chuckled quietly to himself as he got dressed.
The taste of Sam's lips on his had Dean rooted to the spot, staring shell shocked at the fridge. He needed the coffee, badly. The burning liquid was like fire down his throat and Dean finished the mug in several large gulps. His eyes shot open as the warmth settled in the pit of his stomach. Sam and he... were together. In a together, together type way that involved sharing a bed and kisses and showers. Dean had never thought, well, he had entertained the idea but no it wasn't like that. It was just the occasional thing that really only came up because they spent 24/7 together and Dean didn't get out enough.
Dean seriously needed to figure out what was going on because he was fairly certain loosing his mind was the next step down this crazy path he'd somehow woken up on. As he headed down the hall toward the bedroom, he sorted through what would be the most important things to establish, tried to get his mind into case mode. Leaning against the door frame he watched his brother straightening his tie in the mirror. Dean swallowed, taking in the nice dress suit. "Do you always dress so nice for work?" He asked softly.
Sam flashed a crooked grin at Dean. "I know, it's the suit you like - Monica has a big job and has pulled me off all my other jobs to work on site. Gotta look good for all the real lawyers." He brushed some lint of the lapel of his jacket. "Do I look okay?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded and folded his arms across his chest. "So you do research? That's... good. And you like it? The research?" He worried his lower lip and until Sam gave him worried eyes once more. "I think I must have hit my head or something, things seem a little... fuzzy."
"S'okay," Sam walked over and rubbed his hands down Dean's chest, "you're always whacking your head at work - you get too focused on those damn cars. You should have opened a regular shop instead of one for hot rods. You love those cars too much." He grinned and brushed Dean's hair back from his forehead. "How about - I get take out tonight - after work and we watch a zombie movie, drink beer and laugh about how inaccurate it is? Sound good?"
"I own a hot rod shop?" Dean mumbled softly before shaking his head and looking up into Sam's eyes. "I mean, yeah. Take out. Zombie movie. That sounds great." He nodded and scrubbed a hand across his hair. "So um, hey is Dad... did... did dad..." He wet his lips and frowned. "Dad's still, or… he died right?"
Sam blew out a breath, "that's it - I'm taking you to the Dr. I'll call Monica and explain that you've been hurt." Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket.
"No Sam, I'm fine," Dean reached out and laid a hand across Sam's hand. There was nothing a doctor was going to be able to do to help with this situation. But obviously their father had died. If Sam said they lived here for little over a year, then it would have happened shortly after his death. Okay, that was something; he at least had a time line. He tried to smile reassuringly at Sam when they locked eyes. "Honest. I'm fine."
"Okay, then kiss me - so I know you're good," Sam smiled at his brother.
Obviously Dean had trained Sam too well. It was just like him to test the situation. His heart thudded unpleasantly and he stepped forward quickly, better to just get it over with. He pressed his lips against Sam's quickly, mouth tight, before pulling back. "See? M'fine."
"Nope, that wasn't a kiss - Kiss me like you do when you know I'm going to be gone all day," his fingers slipped under the waistband of Dean's boxers, "you know, like how you're going miss me?" He blinked and leaned in.
It was the kind of thing Dean only thought of in the pitch black of night, when the clock was edging closer to morning and further from evening and Dean could pretend it wasn't there. This was his brother and in this world, apparently, his... lover. Dean swallowed thickly and glanced toward the window. It wasn't night, it was bright and sunny and Dean was still in his boxers. Slowly he dragged his tongue across his lips before stepping in. Dean forced his hand not to shake as he slid his hand around Sam's neck, tangling in his hair and dragging him down. Their lips brushed together softly for a moment before he opened his mouth and snaked his tongue forward. Sam's mouth opened willingly to his touch, tongue sliding against his with practiced familiarity. He stepped in more, bodies coming flush together, and Dean circled his tongue around Sam's mouth like he had with so many other people. Only it was so very different and Dean tightened his fingers in Sam's hair.
A soft moan escaped Sam's mouth as he opened his lips for Dean, his hands slipped down to cover his brother's hips. Dean always bitched about Sam's long hair but he knew he would never let him cut it - and Sam loved the feel of Dean's fingers tangled in his mess of hair. He let himself warm to the kiss, heart racing in his chest, only Dean could do that to him. Pulling away reluctantly, Sam nipped Dean's bottom lip and rolled his hips forward into his brother's. "Mmmm, okay, better." He pressed his forehead to Dean's, breath coming harder and faster than it was before the kiss. "Okay, I... uh... have to uh work now, yeah, that's it." He pulled back and smiled, "God... I love kissing you. I'll text you and let you know when I'm coming home with dinner." He pulled out of Dean's arms and grabbed his keys off the counter, "I'll take the Camero - see you tonight." He moved quickly down the hallway, smiling as he slipped out the front door.
Swallowing around the taste of Sam still lingering in his mouth, Dean vaguely registered the front door closing. "Alright..." he breathed shakily and looked around the bedroom. Heat pooled low in his stomach and he looked down at himself with wide eyes. Okay, being turned on by kissing his brother? Dean was past the point of being surprised. Deep dark thoughts he'd always stashed away pushed up to the surface of his mind and he shook his head. Maybe whatever put him here was trying to kill him by making his brain explode with too much.
Dean decided a shower was the best way to start the whole, figuring this shit out thing. The water was hot and soothing and Dean made quick work of jerking himself off, not stopping to think about the fact that the kiss from before was the only thing to help him along. He'd get to that later, or maybe he wouldn't even have too. It wasn't hard to find his clothes in the room. They weren't all that different from what he'd wear normally, just more selection. Dean pulled on a pair of comfortable looking jeans and a t-shirt.
He spent the first part of the morning combing through the house. It was exactly the type of place Dean imagined he would have lived in, should he ever stop hunting. Nice furniture, impressive collection of movies and music, a desk in the living room set up with a computer and home phone. The other bedroom was fashioned as a guest room, which had Dean wondering if they ever had guests. Who would come visit them? A thorough scan of the room told Dean that Sam and he shared practically everything. Same shampoo, same toothpaste, hell there was only one drawer for underwear. Who did that?
For a moment his attention was distracted by the window. When he looked out he could see what appeared to be a typical suburban neighborhood, and past that, the ocean. Dean's heart soared in his chest. This... this couldn't possibly be his life. A house, an ocean view, fucking coasters on the coffee table. At some point Dean made himself a sandwich, though he hardly tasted it, just ate it out of sheer necessity. Then he headed back to the living room to scan the shelves built into the wall.
Most were filled with books, then the movies, the music, but a few shelves down Dean's eyes landed on a photo album. His fingers curled around it and he crossed to the couch, stretching his legs across the cushions before bringing up the book and flipping it open. The first picture was of him and Sam at Bobby's, maybe days after their father's death. Dean stared at it with narrowed eyes because it was so familiar and so different at the same time. Sam's arm was around his shoulder, a small smile on his lips, their heads tilted together as they looked at the camera. Dean wasn't smiling in the shot but there was something dancing along the corner of his lips like the suggestion of a smile.
He considered it for a moment longer, then the picture below, Dean leaning against the guard rail, beer in his fingers. Just from the look in his eyes Dean could tell he must of just warned Sam not to take a picture. It made Dean snort because it was so very like Sam to have taken the picture anyway. The next few pictures were in various places, the Grand Canyon, Mount Rushmore, Disneyland. Dean had no recollection of visiting these places, which was too bad because Sam looked so happy and - when he studied his own face - he looked just about the same.
Then the pictures transitioned to something much more... intimate. A half a shot mostly blurred, of Sam kissing his cheek, the next of his lips. The pictures were too close, shaky, as if Sam had turned the camera around to catch the shot. The next was more focused, as if Sam had taken his time to get the best angle. The man was curled in his lap, face nuzzled into Dean's neck but Dean could make out just the edge of his lips lifted up, cheeks dimpled. When his eyes landed on the next one, Dean's heart lurched in his chest.
His hands were curled around Sam protectively and he was looking at his brother like there was no one else in the world that he'd rather be looking at. Sam was holding out the camera, edge of his arm just barely visible on the edge of the frame, and he was smiling so bright and wide Dean couldn't even fathom that his cheeks could stretch so far. It took him longer then it should have to turn the page but when he did, he found himself staring at his naked form in a hotel bed, blankets pooled across his waist lower enough to show the jut of his hip bone. He was fast asleep, hair tussled, and there was the distinct ring of a bruise below his nipple.
Dean swallowed at the suggestion.
The following pages seemed to display the transition to this place. A shot of them standing in front of the 'Welcome to Port Angeles' sign. A shot in front of the house that Dean assumed was the one he was in now. One in front of an auto body shop that must be Dean's. There's a whole series of ones with them on the beach, arms slung around hips, looking just like the average couple. It seemed like they had a perfect life and Dean wondered automatically what the catch was. Besides not hunting, obviously, which Dean could hardly believe that he gave up. But for this... well... it almost seemed to make sense.
The last three pages of the photo album were much more intimate and Dean took his time staring at each one. They were taken in their bedroom; boxes still lined the walls as if they'd just recently moved in. The first was Sam, tucked under the blankets and giving Dean and the camera a look that was definitely saying 'come hither.' The next was off angled again, Dean's face barely caught in the bottom right hand corner of the picture. Sam's face was too close, over exposed, wide smile and crinkled cheeks. Below it there was Sam resting on Dean's bare chest. Dean could see his fingers curled in the mop of Sam's hair and as his eyes trace down, they landed on Sam's tongue snaking out between parted lips, resting against Dean's nipple.
Dean's breath hitched in his throat at the sight. He couldn't believe that they kept these here, out in the open where anyone could see. The next one - shit, the next one was the edge of his hips, so low Dean was surprised you couldn't see his... and Sam's fingers were there, ghosting along the smooth flesh. And then... Dean couldn't look any further, just saw a flash of hard flesh and Sam's lips and really he couldn't believe Sam and he agreed to keep these in a photo album that sat out for anyone to be able to look at.
Shaking his head, Dean flipped back through the book to the ones of him and Sam in the motel room before they came to this city. He stared at each one so long his eyes nearly hurt. And he didn't even realize he drifted off to sleep until he was dreaming. There was just the vaguest image of a motel room - like the thousands of the ones he'd stayed in before - of Sam sitting beside him on the mattress, saying his name softly and stroking his forehead. Dean wondered if it was a memory returning to the surface, maybe this was his life and he really had hit his head.
Sam yawned as he came through the back door of the house, he was starving and the food he had picked up smelled really good. He dropped the bags on the counter, kicked his shoes off and wandered into the living room while he loosened his tie. He smiled when his eyes found Dean asleep on the couch, photo album clutched to his chest. Dean's brow was furrowed slightly.
He walked over and grinned down at his brother. "Hey, bro," Sam kneeled down beside the couch and ran his fingers gently through Dean's hair, "hey, sleepyhead." He leaned down and kissed the corner of Dean's mouth, free hand resting on the photo album, and then when Dean only made a sleepy sound he nuzzled into Dean's ear. "Wake up lovely man..." Dean must be exhausted; usually it was easier for Sam to wake him up. Sam slipped the photo album out of his brother's grasp and grinned; pulling Dean's t-shirt up slightly so he could lean down and kiss his belly. His lips moved softly across Dean's abs, sucking, kissing, licking and his hand slipped just under the edge of Dean's waistband.
Dean stirred slightly, hips rolling against the cushion. "Mmm Sammy..." he mumbled, loosing himself in the fuzzy edges of a dream.
Sucking Dean's warm flesh into his mouth, Sam ran his tongue along it as he felt the blood pull up towards the surface. Dean loved it when Sam left his mark on him - said it was proof that he belonged to Sam. When his lips popped free of Dean's flesh there was a nice purple mark forming and Sam smiled at the little moans Dean made in his sleep.
Warm pleasure spiraled through him and Dean shifted, rolling onto his side as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He looked down at Sam with a warm smile, "Hey Sam..." then everything caught up with him like a punch to his gut and he jumped up, nearly flying off the couch. "Uh Sam. Sam. Hi." He fumbled over the words, lifting his shirt to look down at the space on his flesh that was still thrumming softly.
Sam raised his hand slightly, startled and worried he was about to be leapt on when Dean launched himself off the couch. "Jesus, Dean... relax - I was just waking you up for dinner." He pushed up off the floor and scratched his head trying to calm down. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
"It was... I was having a dream is all," He cleared his throat and looked around them. Right, still in the house with all the signs of normality except the whole, being with his brother thing. "Dinner? Good I'm starving. How was work?" He tried for casual. It hadn't really occurred to him that he had no idea how the Dean of this world acted. Was he nicer? More funny? Sweeter? Could Dean even be those things?
Smiling softly, Sam sighed. "Okay," he reached out and slipped his fingers into Dean's hand, tugging him toward the kitchen. "I got burgers, fries and onion rings for you from your favorite diner. And I don't want a word about how it doesn't fit into my healthy eating plan. I thought you would like it... you know as a treat." He grinned as he shoved Dean down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, "Sit, I'll get everything out." He moved over to the bags and started pulling wrapped food and containers out of them. "Just the way you like it," he unwrapped a huge burger and left it on the paper, "double, cheeseburger with one pickle and extra onions, not on a sissy plate." He dumped the burger in front of Dean and went back over to rustle around in the bag some more. When he returned to the table a second time he had fries and onion rings in boxes and spread everything out in front of his brother.
He pulled out a second chair and sat, scooting the chair over closer to Dean so he could tuck his foot under Dean's ass. "So - what did you do today?" He took a bite.
Dean stared at Sam for a moment before looking down at his food. This was surreal on a level Dean couldn't comprehend and really, he was getting a bit fed up with everything being so confusing. It was like he was plopped down in the middle of the movie and was trying rapidly to catch up on the more important plot details before the characters moved on without him. "Um... I showered. And walked around. Looked at pictures. And well... took a nap." He shrugged and brought the burger to his mouth, trying not to squirm against the foot tucked under his ass.
Sam put his burger down and reached out to rub Dean's arm. “You feeling any better?"
"Uh huh," Dean nodded, swallowing the half chewed bit of burger roughly and coughing. "Drink?" He gasped around the piece of food.
Sam pushed up from his chair and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, untwisted the cap and handed it to Dean. "You good?"
Dean drank from the bottle in large gulps, finally dropping it to the table when more than half the contents were gone. "Much." He smiled up at Sam for a moment before turning to the food in front of him. He was suddenly starving and he tucked into the burger with renewed interest, moaning softly as the flavor worked its way across his mouth. "Mmm," He carried out the noise, sucking his thumb into his mouth to clean off a large dollop of sauce that had fallen on his skin. "S'really good." He mumbled around the index finger he slid between his lips next.
Sam's expression went from slightly worried to amused and he picked up his burger again. "You know, you make a lot of the same noises when you suck me off - I don't know why but I find that absolutely hilarious." He grinned and took a huge bit of his burger, chewing noisily.
Once more Dean found himself choking on his burger, snatching at the bottle and draining the liquid. "Jesus Sammy," he gasped, tears prickling the rims of his eyes from the exertion. "I'm tryin’ to eat."
Sam managed to suppress his grin down to a smirk as he polished off the rest of his burger. "Okay, no more sex talk during your food orgy." He tossed the paper from his burger down on the table. "I'm stuffed - I'm gonna go and get out of this suit." He slid his chair back and stood, leaning down to plant a kiss on the top of Dean's head. "Oh," he called out over his shoulder, "the zombie movies are on the counter and I got beer - can your throw it in the fridge?"
Sam wandered down the hall, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. Dean seemed to have improved a little since the morning but Sam had already decided he was going to stick to Dean like glue all weekend and make sure he was alright. If he wasn't acting one hundred per cent normal by Monday he was going to the doctor.
He yanked his shirt off and tossed it in the laundry hamper then stepped out of his dress slacks. "Oh shit! Dean!" he yelled out, as he stepped out of his boxers. "C'mere a second!"
Dean was halfway toward the living room with the movies when Sam hollered for him. He dropped the movies without a second’s hesitation and darted down the hallway, skidding to a halt two steps passed the threshold. "What Sa..." He trailed off as his eyes fixated on the naked form of his brother. He was just slightly less built from the Sam of his world, muscles smaller but almost better, less intimidating for sure. His hair was certainly longer, skin tanner, features so much happier it threw Dean. He swallowed thickly and only let his eyes dart to Sam's crotch once before fixing resolutely on his hazel eyes. "Sam..."
Sam smiled as he hopped around trying to get into his sweats. "I totally forgot to tell you, Bobby called me today - he wants us to drive up for Thanksgiving. Says he'll cook you a turkey and apple pie if you try to keep your hands off me during dinner." Sam laughed and finally managed to tug his sweats up. "I think he's still psychologically scarred from walking in on us the last time we were there." He shuffled towards Dean and pressed his body tight against his brother's. "Wanna go watch the zombie movie and make out?"
"Bobby knows?" Dean breathed and finished the thought mentally, and I'm still alive?. When Sam's look turned confused again Dean smiled. "Right, zombie movie and uh..." he wet his lips. Making out. God, screw being dropped in the middle of movie, he'd been dropped in the middle of some fucked up cinemax incest porn. Did they even make those? All the times Dean had looked he hadn't found any. His eyes widened as the thought crossed his mind, not that he'd ever intentionally looked, but they did visit a lot of motels.
He followed Sam slowly down the hall toward the living room, heading to the TV when Sam asked him to put the movie on. He retrieved the DVD case from the ground and stared down at the DVD player. Only there were three different machines and one looked just as complicated as the other. "Uh..." he stared down at them. What the fuck was a Blu-Ray? His eyes darted up when Sam came back in the room with two beers. "How does this shit work?"
Laughing Sam handed Dean his beer and grabbed the DVD, "Dude - if you lived on your own you'd be one of those guys who's stove is constantly flashing the wrong time because you don't know how to set it." Sam grabbed two remotes, pushed three different buttons then slid the disc into the top machine and tossed Dean the TV remote. "Can you handle turning the TV on?" His smile was wide, all teeth and dimples, he loved Dean so much sometimes, it made his heart ache.
"Yes I can handle turning on the TV," Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, "and if I lived on my own I wouldn't need a stove clock, that's what watches are for." He snorted in laughter and hit the power button on the remote Sam had tossed him. Sam was laughing and the noise was so warm, it made Dean's heart ache. He couldn't remember the last time he heard Sam laugh so open and cheerful. This Sam was so... happy. Happy not hunting, happy living with Dean and being a researcher for a lawyer's firm. Dean never should have taken Sam out of college. Obviously this life was good for his brother. A frown tugged his lips down as he thought about the Sam he knew, how rarely he smiled now a days, how his dad had told him there may come a time when Sam wouldn't even be human anymore. That clearly wasn't this Sam.
Sam flopped down on the couch beside Dean, leaned over and rested his head on Dean's thigh. He aimed the largest of the three remotes at the TV and started the movie. "You've probably seen this one, but who cares, it's all a ruse to get you alone on the couch anyway." He leaned back against Dean's stomach. "Comfy?"
"Uh yeah," Dean cleared his throat, hands hovering up in the air for a moment before one fell to his thigh and the other rested awkwardly on Sam's shoulder. The screen flashed to a DVD menu that was red for a moment before zombies ran across the screen. "Oh 28 Days Later? I love this movie. Why don't we own this? We should own this." His face lit up with a grin as Sam hit the play button.
Rolling his eyes, Sam reached out and set the remote down on the table in front of them. "If I fall asleep wake me up when it's done." He reached up and threaded his finger through Dean's where it rested on his shoulder. He was tired, ten hours of straight research and staring at the screen killed him every time - even though he loved the work. It was so much better than the old days. This was the kind of hunting that Sam could live with.
It was nice to lose himself in a movie and forget about the fact that Dean had completely no idea why or how he came to be in this place. The action had him sucked in by the time the first monkey infected rage on the girl and Dean settled further back into the couch, getting comfortable. Sam slid down his body and snuggled into his lap at some point and Dean's body remained tense for at least ten minutes until he managed to calm himself. A hand came to rest on Sam's head, stroking the hair softly.
The touch seemed so... natural, Dean actually found himself surprised that he'd never had it before today. He tried not to let himself get lost in thought again, after all he was fairly certain his brain was going to break down from overload. Chances were this world was the result of that creature he couldn't remember and the real Sam was moments away from saving him. And if that were true, if this were all going to be over at any moment, then Dean didn't see why he couldn't just enjoy it while he had it. Maybe then he'd get that haunting want in the back of his mind to go away and he'd never have to consider how fucked up a brother he was to want Sam in physical ways.
Dean didn't even realize the movie was over until the credits had stopped and the screen had shifted to the DVD menu once more. "Sammy?" He said softly, dragging his hand through Sam's hair then down his back, rubbing the muscles firmly. "Movie is over." Touching Sam wasn't a hard thing. The man felt like he fit beneath his palms. "Time for bed Sam," He pulled his brother up a little, ducking to gaze into sleepy eyes.
Sam's eyes blinked open slowly. "Hi," he murmured, voice thick with sleep "is it time to go to work?"
Chuckling softly, Dean shook his head and pushed up off the couch, tugging Sam up with him. "No, it's time to go to bed." He smiled and pushed the hair out of Sam's face.
Leaning into Dean's shoulder Sam slipped his warm hand into Dean's and started walking towards the bedroom. "Let's go then," he mumbled.
"Yeah," Dean nodded and walked with Sam, nerves building up in him. This would be the time above all that Sam might realize something was really wrong. But the man was obviously tired so maybe it wouldn't be so weird to just head straight to bed. He hit the light with his elbow as he stepped inside, releasing Sam when he was certain his brother could hold himself up. His fingers worked at the button and zipper on his fly as he crossed the room to the side of the bed he'd woken on that morning.
Dropping down to sit on the edge of the bed, Sam wriggled out of his sweats and crawled into the bed turning to face Dean, "hurry up - getting cold." He mumbled into his pillow as he flipped the quilt back for Dean.
Swallowing thickly, Dean pushed out of the jeans and kicked them to side. He crossed the room once more and flipped off the light before walking slowly to the bed and climbing under the blanket. His heart was already racing and his mind circled through things he could say to Sam to turn him down without completely crushing his spirit.
As soon as the mattress dipped under Dean's weight Sam scooted over to him without even opening his eyes. Slinging his arm over Dean's chest and his legs over his brother's thighs Sam pressed up as close to Dean as he could. He nuzzled closer to Dean's neck, "how was your movie?" His lips moved on Dean's warm flesh and he sucked at the skin lazily while he waited for Dean to answer.
Dean's skin prickled under Sam's lips and Dean fought to keep himself rooted to the spot. "It was... good." He whispered, almost unconsciously tilting his head to the side to grant Sam more access.
Sam left a train of small kisses down his brother's neck as he settled his head on Dean's chest, fingers moving in small circles on the warm skin of his belly. "M'glad - sorry I fell asleep - was a long day." Sam groaned and nipped Dean's chest gently as he pressed his body against Dean's "See what you do to me? Even when I'm exhausted?" He rocked his hips against Dean's thigh a few times, his semi-rigid cock rubbing against Dean's warm skin. "You're lucky I'm tired." He chuckled and tipped his face up to his brother's - "kiss," he whispered.
Dean's breath came in shallow puffs and he wet his lips, wondering at what point his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Sliding his eyes closed he tilted his head to the side and let his lips brush against Sam's. He was just about to pull away until Sam's tongue darted across his lips and Dean felt he had no choice but to suck the muscle into his mouth, dragging his teeth along it softly. He could feel the hard burn of Sam's crotch against his thigh and a moan that nearly surprised him traveled into Sam's mouth. Giving in to temptation, Dean thrust his tongue against Sam's, fighting for dominance as he shifted his thigh just slightly against Sam's body.
Giving up control of the kiss to Dean willingly, Sam settled into the crook of his brother's arm and moved his mouth and tongue slowly savoring the taste and feel. He moaned quietly into Dean's warm mouth letting his hips roll and grind gently against his brother's hot body; Sam was chilled for some reason and Dean felt like a furnace - it was good. Sam bit gently on Dean's bottom lip as he thrust slowly against his brother's firm muscle.
Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach and Dean groaned. Why Sam grinding against his leg was suddenly the hottest thing Dean had ever experienced, he didn't know, but it was pretty safe to say that Dean's brain had stopped functioning on a higher level. He sucked on Sam's tongue as if pulling some sanity from it and let his hand tangle in Sam's long hair. Fuck. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. His mind chanted and he pulled back from the kiss with a gasp, eyes snapping open to stare at Sam.
Lashes fluttering open as his brother pulled away, Sam smiled softly, "you tired too?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded softly, letting his hand fall from Sam's hair as his breath returned to something normal.
Sam laughed softly and nestled back into his brother shoulder slipped his arm across Dean's hip. "Mmmm," his voice was already thick with sleep again as his wrist settled on Dean's hard length. "Rain check," Sam whispered as his breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep.
It took Dean at least an hour to get the heat to fade from his crotch and even then he remained distinctly aware of Sam's arm across him until he finally drifted off to sleep several hours later. He fell almost instantly into dreams of Sam's soothing voice telling him it was all going to be okay, that things would be right soon. In his sleep Dean tightened his arms around Sam's body as if he knew when he woke that the man would be in his own bed in some motel room, on some hunt of a creature that had given him one insane dream.