RockStarPeach

So, this is it!  The last chapter in this story.  Like I mentioned, I do have a sequel coming but it's going to be extremely different from both the first two arcs, with less porn and more angst.  But for now, enjoy some sex and silliness and Dean being dumb :)  And... some schmoop.  

How to Date Your Brother - Step Ten:  Live Happily Ever After

Pairing:  Dean/Sam

Word count: 5200

Summary:  The Winchesters go on vacation!  Dean does something special for Sam and in direct counterpoint to the entire rest of their lives, only screws it up a little.  Sam decides to go with the flow and actually take the gesture at face value.  See?  They’re growing as people.

A/N:  Sequel to ‘Blow Me’.  You don’t have to read that first for this to make sense, you just need to know this – First, Dean and Sam started to fool around.  Then they started to like it.  Then they started to like each other.  Now, they have to fumble their way through what happens next.

***

Sam blinked his eyes slowly open, moaning in approval as he felt a mouth pressed to the side of his neck, hot breath puffing out and beading moisture on his skin.  The mouth closed down when Sam sucked in a breath, lips and teeth pressing just hard enough as a hand wrapped around his increasingly interested cock.

He smiled, relaxed into the touches and let out a soft gasp, bit his lip when he felt hips press up against him from behind and the heavy slide of an erection slip between his cheeks.  Funny, not so long ago waking up like this would have freaked him out, especially considering he’d gone to bed alone the night before, but now it just felt right.  Dean felt right and it sort of hit Sam all at once that this was real.

They weren’t just fucking, they weren’t just goofing around or having fun, they were together.  They were a couple and as far as Sam was concerned they always would be. 

“Mmmm,” he mumbled, letting his eyes slip shut again and tilted his head toward the pillow to give Dean better access.  He slid a hand down over his naked hips to wrap his fingers around Dean’s as they slid up and down his length, encouraging him to clench his loose fist.  “Tighter.”

Dean chuckled, the low sound reverberating in Sam’s ear and sending a shiver of lust straight through him, tingling down his arms and back and settling low in his gut.  Shit, he came twice last night and a quick glance at the clock told him the second time was only four hours ago.  He was sort of amazed and almost impressed that he was this eager for more already.

“Thought I wore you out last night,” Dean purred into his ear, reading his mind and sending an aftershock of arousal down his spine.  His dick jumped in Dean’s grasp, pre-come leaking from the tip.  “Didn’t expect you to be able to get it up again so soon.”

“Just because,” Sam started and his breath caught when Dean did what he asked and clenched his fingers tight around his shaft, thumb rubbing over the tip and spreading pre-come around the head.  “Just because you need a full twenty four hours to recover, old man.  I’m still young and spry.”

Dean laughed softly but didn’t disagree.  It wasn’t quite that bad, but it was pretty rare that Dean wanted to get off more than once a day.  Thirty-two wasn’t exactly twenty-two, which was probably why he hadn’t indulged last night.  Saving himself up for this morning, apparently.

He’d blown Sam as soon as they got back from supper, thrown him down on the bed and settled between his legs, sucked him down until Sam was incoherent and begging.  Then jerked him off in the shower an hour later, slow and soft after he shampooed Sam’s hair and before he dried them both off with a cheap, threadbare towel.  When Sam had offered to return the favour, Dean just smiled and smacked him on the ass, shoved him in the general direction of his bed and fell down on his own, both of them still completely naked.

Sam would have protested, he really would have because leaving Dean hanging like that, while funny, was only really appropriate when he’d messed up in some monumental way or other.  But he’d been pretty damn tired by the end of the night and he seriously just needed some rest.  He vaguely remembered promising Dean sex in the morning before he fell asleep and it seemed that Dean had decided to take him up on it, what with the crawling into his bed and molesting him and all.  Not that Sam minded.  Hell no.

“What can I say?” Sam said, trying for teasing as he angled his hips back to slide Dean’s dick along the crevice of his ass.  Only the tip was slick, Dean’s pre-come easing the way where the base rubbed and pulled uncomfortably.  He really hoped Dean slicked up before he fucked him, otherwise it was just going to be downright unpleasant and with Dean you just really never knew.  “You being so desperate for it is a huge turn-on.”

“You wish,” Dean said, the words a breath against Sam’s jaw as Dean jerked forward again and again.  “I just feel sorry for you is all.  Tryin’ to make you feel desirable.”

Sam laughed out loud and he abruptly bit the sound off when Dean’s teeth closed down sharply over Sam’s shoulder from behind.

“This is… You’re good, right?” Dean asked, then flicked his wrist, squeezed and his fingers tickled down over Sam’s balls.

“Fuck yeah, Dean,” Sam hissed, jerking back and forth in the half circle of Dean’s arm.  “Of course I’m fucking good.  God, faster.”  Sam moaned, tilted his head back to rest against Dean’s shoulder and he could feel Dean smile against his forehead.

“Mmmm,” Dean hummed, kissing his temple and pulling back so that he could roll Sam a quarter turn.  “On your back, Sammy.”

Sam went willingly when Dean eased him back with one hand, never once letting go of his dick.  Not even when he swung one of his legs over Sam’s and crawled up his body, straddling his waist and Sam’s eyes went wide for a split second as Dean positioned himself above him, before Sam bit his lip and groaned deeply.

Dean was warm inside, tight and slippery and Sam just about shot his load right there thinking about what Dean must have looked like, prepping himself while Sam slept next to him.

Dean grunted as he lowered himself onto Sam’s cock, not a pleasant sort of grunt, but Sam hadn’t been expecting one.  Hell, he hadn’t been expecting Dean to do this at all but he sure as shit wasn’t going to complain about it.  Dean gripped Sam’s hips tight, fingers digging in not quite hard enough to leave marks as he sunk down and when he bottomed out he went still for a few seconds, gave Sam a look like he’d done something particularly offensive.  Or maybe like something smelled bad.  He was probably mentally blaming Sam for the imaginary smell.

“How the fuck does this feel good for you?” Dean asked, scowling as he started to move slowly up and down.  He was playing up his annoyance, obviously, because he seemed to start rocking against him pretty damn quickly and without much trouble and his erection hadn’t seemed to fade at all.  This might not be Dean’s favourite thing, but he clearly didn’t hate it as much as he liked to pretend.

“Dean, this’ll go a lot better for me if you just shut up and move,” Sam said, jerking his hips up and biting back a smile when Dean sucked in a breath and slammed back down even harder against Sam.

“Stealin’ my lines now, Sammy?” Dean teased, grinning a grin that was half grimace as he sped up, knees clenching tight against Sam’s hips. 

Sam wasn’t getting as deep as he’d like with Dean so closed off so he placed his hands on Dean’s ribs and slowly moved them down.  He started to relax as Sam’s hands lowered, softly kneading along the way and by the time they’d worked down to Dean’s thighs, he didn’t protest as Sam gently pushed them out.  He moved them slowly, knees resting on the mattress far enough away from Sam’s hips that Dean had almost no leverage whatsoever and had to rely on Sam shoving his hips up in rapid, jerky shoves to get any friction at all.

Much better.  Dean let him move, just sat on his dick and let Sam control everything for a while and eventually the lines of tension in his face smoothed out and his mouth went lax.

“Okay,” Dean said, almost breathless while Sam pounded up relentlessly, so close, so fucking close, just another minute.  “Okay, that’s… That’s not bad.”

“Seriously?  Not bad?  Wow, what a compliment.”

“Hey, don’t get carried away,” Dean warned and he threw his head back, placed both his hands on Sam’s chest for balance and rode out Sam’s thrusts.  “It’s probably not your skills that’s making this not suck.  I just haven’t gotten any in a while, so pretty much anything’s gonna turn my crank at this point.”

“Whatever,” Sam said, chuckling slightly, shaking his head as he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around Dean’s prick.  Because in Dean’s world, three days was apparently ‘a while’.  He used all the skill he had, moved his hand exactly how he knew Dean liked and before long Dean was making soft, mewling little noises and bucking his hips as best as his position would allow.

“Shit.  Sam,” he growled.  “Yeah.  Yeah.”

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam said, breathless.  “God, so close.  Come on, man.”  His hand sped up, hips too as he pushed them both a little closer.  “Come.  Please.”

“Gettin’ there,” Dean bit out but when his muscles clenched, holding Sam tight and Sam looked at Dean, eyes raking over him from his red and leaking cock up his smooth stomach and defined chest and to his face (and Jesus Christ Goddamn eyes of his were gonna kill Sam) Sam beat him to it.

“Yes,” he cried pulling Dean down against him and shooting up inside him.  His vision blurred and he collapsed back on the bed, only realising that he’d forgotten about Dean when he felt a hand close down around his own and start it moving again, jerking Dean until he spilled over both their hands.

The second Dean finished he went still, wiped his hand on Sam’s hip (even though Sam’s hand had taken most of the mess) and rolled onto his back next to Sam.  Sam smiled, let out a breath and hooked a leg over Dean’s, placed a hand on Dean’s hip.

“You okay?” he asked after a minute or two, nudging Dean in the side with his elbow when Dean seemed a little too quiet.

“No,” Dean answered and Sam’s blood ran cold for several heartbeats.  “I’m having gay sex with my fucking brother.  And it’s pretty consistently been some of the best sex I’ve ever had.  Plus, I like… I’m happy and shit.  In no universe is that okay.”

Sam laughed at that, short and sharp, rolled over to press his front flat against Dean’s side and kissed his shoulder.

“The gay brother thing is something we dealt with a while ago,” he said and ignored the way Dean growled and tensed and Sam pushed a little harder.  Dean was so much fun sometimes.  “You’re only freaking out because it’s finally kicking in that I’m your boyfriend.  Because you care.”

“Shut up, I do not.”

“Because you love me,” Sam said, laughing when Dean kicked him in the shin with his heel. 

“In your dreams, bitch,” Dean said, snorting and smacking the back of his hand against Sam’s chest.  “Anyway, get up and get dressed.  I got a surprise for you.”

***

“Happy birthday, Sammy!” Dean announced happily when they pulled into what looked to be the parking lot of a pretty damn swanky resort.  Sam had asked what the Hell Dean was doing when they’d crossed the border into Mexico an hour ago but Dean had just told him to shut up and wait.

“It’s not my birthday,” Sam argued, looking curiously at Dean and then cocking his head to see fully out the front window, to see the hotel and pool and tennis court and the beach in the background.  His twenty-eighth birthday was still a couple of weeks away.

“Meh,” Dean shrugged.  “Whatever.  Close enough.  I found some deal online for this place, but it was for this weekend only.  Three nights, a bar, a buffet and it’s right on the beach.  That means girls, Sammy.  Hot girls in bikinis and as much booze as we want.  And Pie.  I’m betting there’s pie.”

Sam tried not to smile but Dean’s happiness was sort of contagious.  Even if this place was more the kind of present Dean would enjoy than Sam.  Still, it was thoughtful, Sam supposed, and they could do with a few days off.

“And what exactly are you planning on doing with all those bikini-clad ladies?”

“They have beach volleyball.  You tellin’ me we can’t use a show before dinner?” Dean grinned, rolling his head to face Sam and Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay,” he said, dimples denting his cheeks while he shook his head.  “Okay.  Let’s go celebrate.”

***

The pre-dinner show started out with Dean drooling over scantily clad girls while Sam read the paper and ending with Dean hauling Sam off the beach bodily and grumbling about stupid sluts keeping their hands to themselves when one of those girls got a little too friendly and offered Sam a quickie.

Dinner was better for Dean than it was for Sam (turned out there was pie, lots of pie) and the post-dinner nap was a winner for both of them.

By the time they made their way down to the cabana on the beach they were both buzzed off just enough sleep, more than enough food and all the tequila in the mini bar.  It was going to be a good night.  It was going to be a good weekend.  Dean had done something awesome and he’d been thinking of Sam while he’d done it and for once in his life, Sam was just going to sit back and appreciate it.  He wasn’t going to over think it, wasn’t going to look for ulterior motives, and was going to give a wide berth to anything even remotely resembling the supernatural.

The hotel was gorgeous, the beach was beautiful and what little he’d seen of Dean’s possessive streak earlier was seriously doing something for him.  Sure it was stupid, but Dean was hot when he got all growly and physical.

“Dude,” Dean whispered, interrupting his thoughts with a backhand to Sam’s stomach.  “How fucking hot is she?”

Sam followed Dean’s gaze over to the bartender and just barely managed not to clock Dean in the side of the head with his elbow.

‘Um… hot, I guess?  But Dean, please don’t start.  This never ends well.”  It really never did.  You’d think Dean would have learned by now.

“Nah, don’t worry, baby,” Dean said, and looked up at him with a wink.  “A little harmless flirting and I promise I’m all yours.”

“No, but Dean, I really think…”  Whatever else Sam wanted to say was cut short when Dean sauntered up to the bar, folded his arms in front of him on the marked up wood and smiled at the girl serving the drinks.

“What’s your specialty, sweetheart?” Dean asked and Sam rolled his eyes.

“I’m good at a lot of things, sugar,” the bartender answered, eyeing Dean up and down.

Dean faked a blush like only Dean could and waved a ten dollar bill over the counter.  “We’ll take two of your personal favourite,” he ordered and looked back at Sam like he expected a high five for his efforts.

“Dude, seriously,” Sam hissed into Dean’s ear.  “If you’re gonna pick up chicks, maybe don’t do it right in front of me.”

“I’m not picking up chicks, man,” Dean threw back.  “I’m being friendly, that’s all.”

Sam eyed the bartender while she filled up their glasses with something orange and pink and licked her lips, her gaze roving over Dean’s ass.  Why the fuck did Dean have to be such a shameless flirt?  Poor girl.  Sam almost felt sorry for her.

“You might want to tell her that,” Sam mumbled and plastered on a smile when the bartender came over with their drinks.

“Hope you like them,” she said, more to Dean than to Sam and Dean snatched them both up with a smile, passing Sam one of them without taking his eyes off the girl.  Sam managed not to roll his eyes, but only just.  “I get off at ten.”

“You need any help with that, let me know,” Dean said around a dirty grin that Sam sort of wanted to kiss off him.  He really shouldn’t be that endearing when he was being a creepy douche.  With one last look down at the bartender’s breasts, Dean slapped his hand down on the counter top and turned, bumping his shoulder against Sam’s as he corralled him toward a quiet corner to find a table.

“Holy fuck,” Dean said once they were sitting down and he’d swallowed half of his drink in one go.  “Did you see those tits?  They were fucking awesome.  Ugh, and this tastes like shit.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, because he couldn’t possibly have missed them, what with the way she’d been practically shoving them in Dean’s face.  And objectively speaking Dean was right.  They were really nice tits.  “Only now she thinks you guys have a date later.”

“What?” Dean baulked.  “No way.  We were just goofin’ off.  She gave us two chick drinks, man.  She knows we’re queer.  Well, she knows you’re queer anyway, because who doesn’t, right?  And she must know we’re fucking because have you seen how hot I am?  Who wouldn’t want me?”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell we’re related, based on how smart you’re not,” Sam told him.  “Dean, you were totally eyefucking her back there.  She obviously thinks you’re into her and you just kept encouraging her.”

“Well, I’m not.  Who fucking cares, man?  This is supposed to be your birthday present, so let’s just get drunk, enjoy the atmosphere and then go upstairs and fuck like bunnies.  Cool?”

Sam smiled at that, a true, honest smile because even though he wanted to make Dean suffer a little for being such an ass, he was right.  Dean planned this out and Sam actually was having a good time, despite Dean’s complete lack of appropriate social.  Hell, maybe even a little because of them. 

Four more times over the next hour and a half Dean waved the bartender over for two more of her ‘specialty’.  Sam still had no idea what the drink was called, or even what was in it but Dean was mostly just doing it for the innuendo anyway.  Besides, Sam didn’t mind the taste and the alcohol content seemed pretty high.

“Hey dude, c’mere,” Dean said after a comfortable lull in their conversation, hooking his hand over the arm of Sam’s chair and giving a yank.  Sam managed to get his foot out to prevent himself from taking a header into the ground and Dean used his moment of lost balance to slide his chair over so that they were sitting close enough for Dean’s feet to reach his under the table.

“Watch it, jerk!” Sam said, making a face, but then abruptly snapped his mouth shut when Dean’s foot slid up the inside of his leg.  It moved over his calf and up his thigh but then Dean slipped and bumped his knee on the underside of the table.  He swore under his breath, jerked his leg and the solid toe of his boot came down a little too close to Sam’s junk for comfort.

“What are you doing?!” he whispered, swatting at Dean’s leg as he pulled it back to the floor.  “If you want to use that later, you better watch where you put your friggin’ foot!”

Dean just sighed like Sam was being completely unreasonable and turned his head in the direction of the dance floor on the other side of the hut.  He nudged Sam’s foot with his own again, a little harder than before, sending it skittering across the pavement and slamming into the iron leg of the table.

“Fucker,” Sam hissed as his toe throbbed and he retaliated by wrapping his leg around Dean’s and hiking it upward to bash Dean’s knee against the table again.

“Bitch!” Dean growled, a little too loudly and smacked his knee against Sam’s, catching the bone in just the right place to send a tingle of pain down his entire leg.  Sam returned the gesture, along with a few others, and less than thirty seconds later they’d managed to jostle the table enough to knock down their two empty glasses and Sam was pretty sure they were both going to be pretty bruised up the next day.

Dean ended the scuffle by clamping his hand down tight over Sam’s thigh and stomping hard with his heel on the top of Sam’s foot and Sam threw his arms up in the air with a scowl.

“Okay.  Fine,” he said, pulling his leg away from Dean with a little too much force.  “You win.  Though I wasn’t aware until just now that footise was a competition.”

“Clearly.  You suck at it,” Dean said, smiling wide and stupid and even though Sam was pissed off about all the random abuse, he had to admit Dean was sort of adorable.  And he was having too good a time overall to stay mad.

Sam ducked his head to hide a grin and then opened his mouth to suggest they head upstairs, but he was interrupted before he could even start.

“A round for the table,” came the words out of seemingly nowhere and when Sam looked up, the bartender was back with a tray of drinks.  Her signature cocktail was missing but there were three tall glasses of draft as well as three bright blue shots of unknown origin.  Three.

Fucking great. 

“I’m Kelly, by the way,” she told Dean and then shot Sam a small smile as almost an after thought.  “My shift just ended.  Mind if I join you?”

She didn’t wait for answer.  Just leaned over Dean to put the drinks down, making sure to brush her breasts up against Dean’s cheek as she went and when she was finished she plopped herself down on Dean’s lap like sitting down on strangers in TJ resorts was something she did every damn day.  Hell, it probably was.

Dean coughed and pushed back in his chair to lean away from her and squirmed slightly uncomfortably, but his eyes were still trained on her cleavage.  Typical.  Sam managed not to laugh but he turned an amused look on Dean and watched him lick his lips as Kelly took a long pull from her glass of beer.

“I…” Dean said.  “Um…”

“Dean, her eyes a little further north,” Sam said around a chuckle, and he smiled even harder when Dean scowled at him.  No, he wasn’t helping.  That was what made it funny.

“Dean!” he said to the girl, snapping his eyes up to hers when she wriggled in his lap.  “I’m Dean, and this here’s Sammy.”

“Hello Dean,” she said, dragging the words out, making them sound like a very dirty promise and then curled her tongue over her top teeth.  “Sam,” she added, another afterthought.  Bitch.

“You know what?” Dean said, grabbing Kelly by the hips and sliding her forward, looking around at the tables next to them.  “Let me get you a chair.”

“Don’t bother,” she said, breathing the words into Dean’s ear and Sam saw Dean shiver from the warmth and the intimacy and he knew his brother was getting hard, if he wasn’t already there.  “I was thinking after these drinks you and I can get out of here.”

“That’s,” Dean started, laughing lightly as his hands slid up to her waist and he awkwardly patted her a few times.  “That’s thoughtful of you.  Really.  But I’m… I mean, I can’t.  Sorry honey.”  His eyes slid down a little again then, over the bared skin of her neck and he made a pained sort of face, like it was physically hurting him to shut this girl down.  It just kept getting funnier.

“Can’t?”  Kelly asked, pouting.  “Why not?  Got a girl hiding somewhere?”

“A girl?” Dean laughed.  “No, honey, not a girl.”  He paused and frowned, tilted his head and pretended to consider that.  “Though he acts like one most of the time.”

Wow.  Dean seemed to be opening up about his big gay side more and more these days.  Sam was oddly touched.  Also offended, because he did not act like a girl, ever, and he gave Dean’s bruised ankle one more kick.

“He?  You’re…” Kelly started, looking down at Dean before she looked over to Sam.  Sam just gave her a ridiculous smile, all mock apology.  She seemed to not buy it because she looked back at Dean with a turned down mouth and narrowed eyes.  “Gay?”

“Yeah, for sure!” Dean said, much too enthusiastically, but Hell, when had Dean ever done anything quietly.  “We…” he reached over and punched Sam in the shoulder a couple of times ( fucking hard, the stupid jackass) and Sam hissed in pain, rubbing a hand over his bicep and giving Dean an annoyed look.  “Him and me.  We gay.  Together.  Right Sam?”

As if.  Sam snorted, deciding against helping Dean out of this one at all and Kelly raised a disbelieving eyebrow at Dean.  Sam snickered while Dean cleared his throat and lifted her gently off his lap to stand next to them at the table.

“Are you sure?” She asked again and Sam tried to swallow down the hysterical laughter that was threatening to bubble up.  Oh, this was just too good.  Probably the first person ever to not just automatically assume that they were gay and it’s the one person Dean wants to think they are.

“Yeah.  We’re… you know.  Great big homos.  That’s us.  Right, Sam?”  He looked over at Sam with wide eyes and pursed lips and Sam could just hear him thinking ‘help me out you fucking douche’.  Wow, he was really bad at this.  Sam hadn’t been so entertained in a while and he took a huge gulp of his beer and tried not to choke on it laughing.

“Listen, if you don’t want to get together,” Kelly said, “that’s cool.  You don’t have to lie.”

“What!?” Dean almost shouted.  “I’m not lying.  We’re totally queer!  Tell her, Sammy.”

Sam said nothing, just coughed into his fist and turned away.

“Dude, you are so cut off,” Dean hissed at him and then looked back over to Kelly.  “I swear.  I’m not trying to blow you off.  Trust me, if I was available we’d be back in my room already halfway through round two by now.  But this jackass over here honestly is my boyfriend.  And we have so much gay sex.  All the time.  And it’s awesome and hot and… and really, really gay.  You should come watch.”

“Dean!”

“Yeah,” Kelly said, clearly meaning no.  “Sure.  Enjoy your drinks, guys.  Oh, and by the way, Dean?  You really oversell.”

They watched her walk away and Dean smacked Sam in the arm.  Again.  Fuck, he was banged to shit and they hadn’t even had sex yet.

“What was that for?”

“Thanks for back-up, asshole.  Now that poor girl thinks I’m not screwing her because her boobs aren’t perky enough!”

Sam snickered as she made her way to the dance floor and immediately found herself wrapped up a disturbingly sexy twenty-something guy that Sam would have considered screwing if it wasn’t for Dean.

“I think she’ll pull through,” Sam said and swung an arm around Dean’s shoulders.  “Now, how about we head up to the room and have some of that ‘awesome, hot gay sex’ you got so excited about.”

Dean shook Sam’s arm off, but stood and they started walking back.

“Sex?  You’re hilarious.  What part of ‘cut off’ don’t you understand?”

“The part where it’s you saying it.”

“Oh, you think I’m easy?”

“Dean, I know you’re easy.”

“I am not,” Dean protested, opening the door for Sam as they got to the hotel.  “I’m a man of principle and virtue.”

“Uh huh.”

“So cut off,” Dean said and the ride up the elevator to the third floor was made in silence.

***

It turned out Sam was only cut off for as long as it took Dean to get them through the door and get their clothes off.

After that it was a flurry of hands and lips and teeth as Dean pushed Sam down on the bed and pressed sloppy, wet kisses to every part of his body.  And Sam wasn’t exaggerating about that.  Seriously.  It took an hour at least, Dean biting and licking and pressing his lips to obviously places, like Sam’s mouth and neck and the head of his cock.  Less obviously places too, like his underarms and the souls of his feet and his eyelids.

By the time Sam was face down on the king-sized bed with Dean’s cock inside him, there wasn’t a single inch of skin that wasn’t tingling from Dean’s attentions.  The sex itself was slow and lazy, painfully so at some points and Sam came very close to begging more than once.

Dean just chuckled low in his ear when that happened, licked the shell and held Sam’s hands down against the mattress, fucked him even slower.  Sam would have killed him if it hadn’t been so absolutely amazing.

Sam had no idea how much time had passed when Dean’s own need became too great and he wrapped his fingers around Sam’s dick, only getting in five quick strokes before Sam was coming all over his hand and Dean cried out, bucked and filled Sam up.

He didn’t let Sam go after, like he usually did.  He wrapped his free hand around Sam’s waist and pulled him tight to Dean’s front and they fell forward together, Dean rolling them on their sides with him spooned up against Sam, still inside him, still holding his spent cock loosely.

“Mmmm,” he hummed against the back of Sam’s head, then pressed a kiss to the top of his spine.  “I’m glad we did this.”

He wasn’t just talking about the vacation, the long weekend, the early celebration of Sam’s birthday.  He meant them, their entire fucked up relationship and everything that went along with it and Sam closed his eyes and smiled, put a hand on Dean’s arm and moved it so that his hand was resting on his stomach.

“Me too,” Sam told him.  “Me too, Dean.”

It wasn’t something either of them had been looking for, but somehow they’d found it and Sam was planning on hanging on for all he was worth.

“Mmm.  This little trip cleaned me out, by the way.  So don’t expect anything on your actual birthday.”

“Like you remembering when it is, for example?” Sam asked, and squeezed Dean’s hand slightly.

Dean laughed softly behind him and licked a stripe between Sam’s shoulder blades, leaving a trail of saliva that sent goose bumps down Sam’s spine when Dean pulled back to blow softly across his skin.  “That’d be pushing it, yeah.”

Sam shivered and pressed back into Dean.  Perfect.  This little time out was fucking perfect.  And they still had two days to go.  “I love you.”

“Shut up,” Dean said and lifted his hand to push Sam’s head forward, smothering him in the pillow.  “Sleep.”

“Kay,” Sam agreed, already starting to feel himself nod off.  “Night Dean.”

“Night Sammy,” Dean murmured.  “Sweet dreams.”

They really, really were.

END