Dean pulled the car in almost recklessly, relief coursing through his veins at the near escape he and his brother Sam had just made. Being back at the hotel, with a bed and a hot shower, dingy though it was, was enough to get his heart to calm down and stop palpitating. He glanced at Sam. "I call shower," he smirked, and raced to the door. He was slowed, however, by the fact he had placed responsible Sam in charge of the room key. Sam unlocked the door and pushed Dean out of the way, considerably larger and therefore stronger when he took Dean by surprise (which wasn't often). Dean slammed the door behind him and dove past his little brother into the bathroom and closed the door on Sam's face. "Shoulda seen it coming, psychic boy!" he called playfully at the pitiful sounds of his brothers protests. Sam resigned himself to sitting on the edge of his rock-hard single bed, only half a metre from his brothers. He pulled off his shirt and examined the day's injuries. There were fewer than normal, he was glad to notice. He looked at his stomach and pecs, eyes trailing from the tattoo on his chest to his abs, which, Sam observed, were considerably more defined than in his college days, even without his campus gym membership. His hips were narrow and the bones jutted above his jeans. He twisted his neck to try and see his back but his hair, ever-growing, flicked him in the eyes and he lay down with a huff, regretting it almost instantly as his head ricocheted off the metal bed frame. "You can take down two shapeshifters without a thought, but you get attacked by a bed? You're so embarrassing, little brother." Dean crossed the room with just a towel wrapped around his hips. Sam couldn't resist the urge to compare. Sam was broader, taller and darker, but Dean was just ripped in every possible place. Sam put the burning feeling in the pit of his stomach down to jealousy and tried not to look, for fear of retribution from his incessantly sardonic older brother. "At least I didn't get punched by a little girl," he retorted, irritation flaring in Dean's eyes. "It wasn't a little girl! Well, I mean, it was, but it was a shapeshifter in her body! There's a difference, SAMMY" Upon the enunciation of his brother's name, Dean threw himself upon his bed, which felt to be made of stone. "Come on Dean," Sam smirked. "The spirit couldn't have made her body that strong," and with that, he stalked into the bathroom and closed the door.

Dean listened to the shower shuddering and the water pipes groaning in the bathroom. He couldn't help but to become flustered as his mind drifted back to the dream he kept having. Come on, Dean. You can't dream about your baby brother like that, man. Dean's body responded differently to the vivid memory of the dream. For months now, Dean had been awakening in the early morning, covered in a light sweat, and had to go and find his release in the bathroom, while the brother he had just dreamt about fucking was sleeping right next door. Last night's had entailed a shared shower and the sound of the water pounding caused his downstairs to stiffen dramatically. Jesus Christ, Dean, you're disgusting. You beat off thinking about your own brother, and you're hard now just knowing he's naked behind that wall, running his strong hands through his long hair…snap out of it Winchester! Dean knew that obsessing over things made him make rash decisions. His hand drifted under his still-damp towel as his mind wandered absently, thinking about what would happen if he told his brother how he felt. Sometimes he thought Sam's eyes lingered too long, or he hugged too tight, to not feel the same, but his self-doubt was enough to deter him from taking that risk.

Sam turned off the water and sat on the bathroom floor on his towel. All 6ft4 of him didn't really fit comfortably in the claustrophobic room but he needed to be alone. Besides, he could hear low sounds in the bedroom outside and there were only a few options as to what Dean could be doing. Curiosity sprang to Sam's mind. Since their father's death, Sam had been practising his abilities and so far, he'd managed two things. He had a sketchy idea of the future, and he was working on honing mind reading. It worked best with Dean because of how well he knew him. Sam closed his eyes and focussed. He sensed excitement, regret, arousal and tenderness as he concentrated, and he had to stop himself from gasping out loud when the image in his brother's mind came clear. It was Sam, as naked as he had ever been, between Dean's muscular thighs. Sam stood up, and his dick followed suit. This is what he had wished for, wanted but resented, loved and hated the idea. This was his brother. His Dean. His Dean. Noone would ever love him like Dean did, and Sam took a deep breath and pushed open the bathroom door.

Dean's hands flew away from his rock-hard cock and guilt flitted across his face before he could stop it. He'd forgotten to listen for the shower in his otherwise-engaged state. He looked up and the sight before him made him harder than he thought possible. Sam stood there, completely naked, wet, staring at him like he wanted this too. Sam, being the more talkative brother when it came to emotions, opened his mouth. "Dean…"

"Sammy," Dean choked out, not sure of where he stood.

"I love you. And I don't mean like a brother. Oh, wait, of course like a brother, but you know…I want you as mine. In every way. I know it's fucked up and completely wrong, but I also know you want this too. But we would have to move from the few people we have left, and deny our blood to the new people we meet, if we're going to be together openly."

Dean gathered himself together and moved off the bed, towel landing on the floor. He stood in front of Sam, head tilted up slightly to close the 3-inch gap between their heights. He moved his hands to Sam's chest, and traced lightly down Sam's sides, causing the muscles in Sam's abs to flutter. "I'll do whatever I have to, Sammy. I just want you," he whispered. Sam put one hand on his brother's hip and one around his back and pulled him as close as possible. He moved his head down hesitantly and hovered, waiting for Dean to close the gap between their mouths, to reassure him that this was okay. Dean wasted no time, slamming his chapped mouth against his brother's beautiful one, invading instantly with his tongue, accidentally biting down when their cocks glided against one another, velvety and swollen. A shudder ran through him as Sam moved his hand down his spine and rested it on top of his ass. "Sammy," he almost growled at his brother. His brother stilled.

"Was that a good noise or a bad one?"

"A good one, Sammy, always good for you."

Dean was proud of the smile that raised from his brother.

Dean awoke sometime later, completely enveloped in his brother's body. He moved back against him, wiggling to get comfortable. Sam's still half-erectness grazed his ass and Dean smiled, remembering their conversation about who would be giving and who would be taking. Sam had finally pointed out the obvious. "I'm bigger…so maybe you should be inside, at least this time," before kissing his brother fiercely once again. Dean shifted once more and Sam stirred, nuzzling his head into Dean's neck. "My Dean," he murmured sleepily, his hand reaching for something. Dean intertwined his fingers with Sam's. "My Sam," he replied, and closed his eyes.