Title: Misguided Ghosts

Author: Wincesteriffic Kaz

Info: A historic, haunted Tavern proves more than just a simple haunting. Set early season 2 Dean/Sam 5th in the "BYC Verse"

Author's Note: Last one! Did my best to…end on a bang. :P *snicker*

Graphic depictions within.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

~Reviews are Love~

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"Come." Dean ordered and watched in awe as Sam did. His little brother's back arched into him while his mouth fell open and Sam's orgasm fell hot and wet over his hand and stomach, his hips stuttering in a broken rhythm until Sam finally quieted and collapsed against him.

"Fuck," Sam gasped after a moment and just listened to Dean's heart beating under his ear as he got his breathing back under control. He wasn't sure he'd ever understand what it was that made him want to submit to Dean like this and he didn't care. He loved it. He loved that just the sight of his big brother falling to pieces because of him was enough to make him come. Sam couldn't imagine his life any other way. "Love you, Dean."

Dean smiled and rolled to wrap himself around Sam, wiping his hand on the edge of the bed while Sam did his usual octopus routine and curled long arms and legs over him to hold him just as close. "Love you too, little brother." He kissed the top of Sam's head and closed his eyes. "Get some sleep." Dean rubbed a hand up and down Sam's back and didn't realize until that moment that he'd been holding on to the fear from earlier in the evening of finding him in the kitchen the way he had. He'd finally let go of it when Sam had made him come and kissed the top of Sam's head again, buried his face in his hair and went to sleep breathing in his little brother.

Chapter 9

The Talbott loomed over them as Dean parked behind the building for what he hoped would be the last time. The parking lot was empty and the huge dumpster that had blocked the kitchen door the night before and kept Sam trapped inside had been moved away.

"You're sure no one else will be in there?" Sam asked as he got out and they went to the trunk to collect the bag with their shovels and shotguns.

Dean nodded. "Dave swears he got everyone out." He smirked. "Said he had to personally pick up Adele and carry her home this morning. She was determined to get inside and cook for us."

Sam chuckled, relieved that she was out of harm's way. He patted his pocket, reassuring himself the gris-gris bag was there. "You have yours?"

Dean rolled his eyes and put a hand over his jacket pocket. "You're the one who shoved it in here when we left, dumbass. Yes, I have it."

Sam chuckled and followed him to the kitchen door. He gave the dumpster a sidelong look and found he was leery of going into the kitchen again. He smiled and nodded when Dean brushed his fingers over the choker under his collar in a silent question. "I'm good."

"We are going to find this asshole today," Dean said surely and pulled the kitchen door open. He stepped inside and scowled. It was still overwarm inside which meant Grady's spirit had kept up his crap even after they'd left.

Sam moved past him, absently turned off the dials on the ovens as he went to the far wall and the door to the cellar. "Wonder who Dave got to move that oven away from the door for him?" Sam asked, pointing to the one double oven that sat askew from the others after being pulled away from the door. Grady had clearly been making sure he wasn't getting out without help.

Dean turned to watch the other side of the kitchen while Sam turned the knob on the cellar door and pushed. "Don't know."

"Well, damn." Sam shook his head and rammed his shoulder into the door. "Still blocked." He handed the bag to Dean. "Gimme a sec."

Dean nodded and pulled out their shotguns while Sam grabbed a sharpening steel from the nearest knife block. He raised a brow and then smiled when he worked out what Sam was planning. "You're gonna piss him off again, you bypass his handiwork like that."

Sam chuckled and put the point of the sharpening steel to the bottom of one of the hinges. "Good. He pissed me off." He took a heavy pan off the wall next to him and used it to slap the bottom of the rod. It drove the hinge up a couple inches and he pulled it out, letting it fall with a clatter and knelt to get the second hinge and then the one on the bottom. He spun on his knees at the sound of a rattle from across the room as Dean moved in front of him.

"Grady rattlin' the kitchen door, I'd guess." Dean said as the door into the tavern on the other side of the kitchen shook and then went still.

Sam stood, tossed the sharpening steel onto the counter and then gave the door a kick. He grinned as one side came loose, and he pulled the door away from the frame, sliding it to lean against the wall. "Whoa."

Dean turned and saw that the spirit had managed to get one of the heavy wine racks from the floor below up the stairs and wedged in against the door. He whistled. "Gotta give him points for creativity and effort."

Sam looked at it and shrugged. "Pull it out or shove it down?"

Dean studied it for a moment, moved Sam slightly away, and pulled his leg back. He kicked the side of the shelf solidly and grinned as it moved and slid down the stairs with a loud, thundering clatter until it came to rest at the bottom. "Down."

"Nice, Dean." Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes as he took his shotgun from his brother. "Probably not gonna need these while we've got the protection charms."

"Better safe than sorry, dude," Dean told him and moved down the stairs first. He climbed around the shelf where it canted against the wall and reached up to flick on the lights. They flickered to life, illuminating the disaster the angry spirit had made of the wine cellar. "Dave's gonna be pissed when he sees this." The cellar was still overpowered with the smell of spilled alcohol, and it made both their eyes water and noses burn as they crunched over the glass-covered floor to the root cellar again.

Sam pulled open the root cellar door and stepped into the long room. The lights were still on and Grady looked to have been at work down there as well. The crates and boxes had been moved as if by a whirlwind and stacked in haphazard piles from floor to ceiling in various places. "It's like a missing scene from Poltergeist in here."

Dean dropped the bag inside the door and knelt to pull out the shovels. "Long as he keeps his temper tantrums upstairs, he can stack all the furniture he wants."

"Dean." Sam stopped walking and stared as the lady in white slowly coalesced at the back of the root cellar, out of range of the gris-gris bags.

"Shit!" Dean jerked to his feet and leveled his shotgun, snarling when Sam stepped in front of him. "Move it!"

"No, wait!" Sam held a hand out to her and was careful not to move forward and force her to vanish. "She didn't hurt us before." He smiled at her. "Can you…can you help us?" She inclined her head in a slow nod. "You know where his bones are, don't you?" She nodded again and Sam sighed, knowing this was going to be an argument. He pulled the gris-gris bag from his pocket and turned to his brother.

"No way in hell, Sam." Dean said angrily.

"Dean, she knows where he is, but she can't show us if she can't move around the damn room." Sam tossed his charm to his brother who caught it with an angry glare. Sam smiled to try and reassure him. "If Grady shows up, you can just come give me a hug."

Dean growled but stepped back to the door of the cellar. "We're gonna have a little chat about this stunt later."

Sam smirked. "Look forward to it." He turned back to the spirit and startled slightly to find she had moved slowly toward him and was coming nearer still with her eyes focused on him. He took a step back. "Uh…you get any closer, and Dean's going to shoot you just on principle."

"Damn straight, I am," Dean waved the barrel of his shotgun at her when her eyes met his.

She stopped a few feet from Sam and turned slightly to her left. She raised a softly glowing hand and pointed to an area of floor hidden beneath one of the stacks of crates.

"He's under there?" Sam moved to the stack and looked back at her. "His bones are under here?"

"Hurry it up, Sammy," Dean warned and had his head cocked toward the floor above. "It's gone quiet up there and I don't like it."

"Right." Sam nodded his thanks to the spirit and began removing crates from the pile and tossing them aside until he reached the packed-earth floor underneath. Now that he looked at it, he could see a slight depression there, as though the ground had settled in an empty space. He looked up and took the shovel Dean tossed him. "Hopefully, he's not too deep."

Dean's nerves were on edge as he watched his brother dig and wondered how he'd ended up playing guard while a spirit stood over Sam, mere feet away, watching him silently. He squeezed his free hand around Sam's gris-gris bag and resisted the urge to toss it over and dissipate the woman's spirit, however friendly she seemed. She was too close to Sam, and it was making him nervous. Her head spun around to him suddenly with wide eyes and a fearful look.

"What?" Dean asked. He took a step closer and grunted as a wine box near the stairs flew at him suddenly and slammed into his head and shoulders. He went down heavily in the doorway and heard his brother calling his name as his eyes closed.

"Dean!" Sam let the shovel fall and ran to his brother as he hit the ground hard. He slid to his knees beside Dean and pulled him over gently. "Dean?" He was unconscious and reeked of bourbon, thanks to the filled crate that had struck him and the bottles shattered inside it. Sam looked out into the room and saw one of the hanging light fixtures on the far side of the room by the stairs begin to spark, and fear rose up to choke him. "Oh, not good. Shit!" He slid his hands under Dean's shoulders and hurriedly pulled him inside the root cellar as the first sparks dropped to the floor. Sam grabbed hold of the door, shoved his brother's legs out of the way and slammed it closed as a bourbon-fueled fireball exploded into life. He put his weight behind it as the door shook and then backed away with the sound of flames crackling on the other side and heat beginning to seep through the aged wood.

"Holy shit," Sam breathed and knelt next to his brother again. He checked his pulse, relieved to find it beating steadily and looked up at the lady in white. "You should go. You won't be able to stay there in a minute." He slid his hands under Dean's shoulders again, put the shotgun in his lap and slowly dragged him across the floor to the whole he'd been digging. The spirit faded out like a broken film reel as the effect of the gris-gris bags washed into her. "Ok, just…you're gonna be fine, Dean."

Sam grabbed his shovel up again and started to dig furiously. He saw the smoke beginning to curl under the door across the room and pushed that fear from his mind. The only chance he'd have of getting his brother out alive was to send the angry ghost on first. He tossed the shovel and dropped to his knees in the three-foot-deep hole he'd dug when he'd felt it strike something hard. Sam dug through the dirt with his fingers and quickly revealed a growing collection of bones, stained dark by the earth they'd been hidden beneath. He heard another commotion of bangs and small explosions from the wine cellar as he revealed the whole of Grady Peterson's remains.

Sam jumped back out of the hole and ran to the bag Dean had dropped beside the door. He coughed and gagged, forced to wade into the smoke filling that end of the room and tripped over the bag. He snatched at the handles and stumbled back out of the smoke and across the room to his brother.

"Almost, Dean," Sam gasped and fumbled the salt and lighter fluid out while he coughed with his throat and lungs burning from the hundred-proof smoke. He poured both down on Grady's bones and the clamor from the other room reached a fever pitch. Sam pulled the lighter out of his pocket, lit it, and tossed it down. The bones caught fire in a blaze that rose up out of the shallow grave, and Sam dropped to his brother, taking his shoulders again to move him away to the very back of the root cellar and away from the smoke. The banging and clatter from the wine cellar stopped suddenly at the same moment there was an unearthly howl, and then there was nothing but the sound of crackling fire both from the open grave and, more muffled, through the door.

"Dean?" Sam bent over his big brother's head, in spite of the overwhelming smell of bourbon, to get a look at him. A trickle of blood ran from his temple as Sam brushed his fingers through the short hair and smirked. "Guess we won't have to…" he broke off to cough again and cleared his throat. "…have to disinfect this." He curved a hand around his brother's jaw to turn his face up to him and smiled. "You smell like a distillery, man."

Sam looked up in surprise at the indistinct sound of a fire alarm and heard sprinklers suddenly spring to life in the next room. "Huh. Guess Grady was suppressing the fire system." He hunched over Dean and coughed again as smoke from the open grave blew toward them and ducked his head and shoulder around his brother's face to protect him until it passed. He felt Dean stir in his arms and leaned up enough to see him.

Dean felt a warm hand on his face, smelled bourbon and smoke, and had a dizzying memory of a bar in Texas when he'd been eighteen before Sam's voice broke through and grounded him. "Sammy?" He blinked his eyes open and found his little brother's face inches away. "Wha's goin' on?" He put a hand up to his head and wrinkled his nose. "We get kinky with the whiskey while I was out?"

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "Grady got a lucky shot in before I toasted him." He helped ease Dean up so he was sitting, leaning against his shoulder, and stopped to cough again.

"Sam?" Dean's concern was instant and he finally took a look around, eyes widening in worry when he saw the cloud of smoke where the door out should be. He wrapped an arm over Sam's shoulders while he hacked, trading positions of who was supporting who and pulled him in once the coughing fit passed.

"I'm good," Sam assured him breathlessly and sat back up while he got his breath back. "Just sucked in a little more smoke than I should've getting the bag." He waved in the direction of the door and shrugged. "Dave's gonna need a new bourbon supply. The ghost lit it up and tried to torch us first."

"Aw, man," Dean groaned and shook his head. "What a waste!"

"How's your head feel?" Sam swiped a thumb over Dean's forehead, stopping a trickle of blood and bourbon from dribbling into his eye.

Dean snorted and had a go at standing up with his brother's help. "Head usually feels like this with the alcohol on the inside, not the outside. This way…" he groaned and put a hand out to the cool, back wall. "…this way's not as much fun."

"I think the sprinkler system's working now." Sam wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders to steady him. "Might be able to get out of here now."

Dean staggered to the root cellar door with Sam's help and put a hand to it. "Warm, not hot." He raised a brow. Sam nodded, and Dean took hold of the handle to pull it slowly open. Smoke roiled in through the open door along with warm, wet air, but the fire was out and a blackened wine cellar greeted them through the heavy mist of the sprinklers in the ceiling. They both coughed and covered their faces as they walked cautiously to the stairs. The floor under their feet crackled and crunched and felt warm through the soles of their shoes while the sprinklers quickly soaked them through.

Sam pulled them to a stop in the kitchen doorway. "Uh…thought you had your charm in your jacket?" The lady in white stood only a few feet away from them with an odd sort of smile on her face.

Dean shoved his hand into his jacket and came out with a wet, running mess of burlap that had once been a gris-gris bag. "Yech." He dropped it to the floor and wiped his fingers on his brother's shirt with a smirk.

"Dude!" Sam batted his hand away and then slapped Dean's chest when a second ghost strolled into the kitchen through the wall to their left. "That's…is that…"

Dean grinned and tipped an imaginary hat at Jesse James' spirit. "Evenin', pardner."

Sam rolled his eyes, his sense of awe broken, and snorted. "Seriously?"

"'Bout time someone sent that ol' boy on his way." Jesse's voice eased through the kitchen softly as he walked to the lady in white.

Dean and Sam watched bemused as the shade of the old gunslinger slid an arm around her waist, tipped the brim of his hat to them while she smiled and then both vanished. "Whoa."

"Holy crap," Dean whispered and then started to chuckle. "He did say he had better things to do. Dude! Ghosts gettin' their freak on." He slapped Sam's stomach and laughed. "You should write, like, an essay or something."

Sam groaned and pulled his laughing brother to the door. "I think all the bourbon's osmosing through your skin or something."

Dean was still grinning as they stumbled out the kitchen door and down the stone path to the Impala. "Jesse James, Sammy." He straightened and pulled out his keys. "It's awesome."

"You sure you should drive?" Sam hovered at the front of the car while Dean went to the driver's side. "You did get knocked out cold down there."

Dean scowled dismissively. "Get in the car already. I'm fine."

"Alrighty, then." Sam sighed, smiled and went around. He tossed the dripping duffel bag in the back seat and grimaced at the squelch of wet leather as he sat.

Dean pulled away from the Talbott tavern and decided calling Dave to let him know could wait a while. He wasn't terribly happy with the place after almost killing them both more than once the last couple days. He glanced sidelong at his brother while Sam pulled his wet t-shirt over his head and decided Sam could do with a lesson or two of his own. He tugged a rag from under the seat to clean up his head as he drove and grinned all the way back to the motel.

Sam knew something was up as they parked in front of their room. Dean's pleased look had changed to something slightly darker in spite of the grin as they drove, and he knew what that usually meant. He climbed out of the Impala bare-chested, wringing his shirt out on the pavement calmly while inside he was trembling in anticipation of whatever had put that look on his brother's face. He smiled over at him as Dean got out. "Didn't wanna stop for food?"

Dean shook his head and jerked a thumb at the room door. He waited for Sam to saunter over to him and then darted a hand out to wrap his fingers around Sam's collar. The sprinklers had left the braided, dark brown elephant hair almost black and it was slick in his grip. He jerked Sam's head to his and bit along his bottom lip while he ran his free hand down his brother's chest. He scraped his nails over one of Sam's nipples, down his abdomen so Sam squirmed, and then tucked his fingers into the waist of his jeans to brush the head of his now hard cock, and Sam moaned into his mouth.

"Still pissed at you, Sammy." Dean growled it as he let go of his brother's bottom lip and moved to bite his jaw instead. "Pulling that stunt in the root cellar." He leaned back enough to look at Sam and smirk. His little brother was already strung out and panting for him. Dean spun him and shoved him to the room door. "Inside. Strip. Now."

"Fuck," Sam groaned and his hand shook getting the door open, but he was through it in a second and peeling wet denim down his legs. He kicked the jeans aside and then stood there with the memory of Dean's nails on his skin making him shiver as his big brother paced into the room like a predator on the prowl.

Dean circled his little brother, a little in awe that Sam gave him this every time, gave him everything. He'd been wary of it once, afraid that the things he wanted to do with…to…Sam were wrong, but then he'd learned just how much Sam wanted it in a little gay nightclub in a backwater town. He pressed a hand over his own aching cock, willing it down because it was going to be a little while before he gave himself what he wanted; Sam first. "Knees, Sammy." Dean groaned softly when Sam dropped to his knees like someone had cut his strings and put his hands behind his back and bowed his head, clearly having trouble catching his breath just from being ordered around. "Jesus."

Sam was vibrating with need. Dean's voice, that low, gravelly drawl that screamed sex and love was enough to put him on the edge. He watched Dean walk to the bureau by the door where he'd tossed their bags from the corner of his eye and tilted his head just enough to see. Sam bit his bottom lip into his mouth on a low groan when he saw the soft flogger come out, lube, his plug, and the cockring. Sam closed his eyes and shuddered with 'want'.

Dean heard it and gave a feral smile because he was going to make Sam beg for it. He pulled his shirts off over his head and turned back, seeing Sam's eyes devouring his bare chest hungrily. Dean flicked open the buttons of his jeans, but did nothing else, just letting the stiff length of his cock push the fabric apart and grinned as Sam swallowed noisily. He reached back into the bag and pulled out the leather cuffs he'd picked up with Sam in mind.

Sam shivered with anticipation when Dean came back and knelt behind him. He leaned back into his brother's chest to savor the warmth from his skin and then yelped when a hard slap landed on his backside, sending a little thrill curling through him.

"Didn't say you could touch, little brother," Dean growled. He pushed Sam forward a little and quickly fastened the padded leather around each of his wrists and then put them together, slotting the rings into each together to hold Sam's wrists in place comfortably. He pushed Sam further until his brother was bent in front of him with his head on the carpet between the beds under the window and a sliver of sunlight peeked through to fall across his naked body.

"Dean," Sam whined it and wiggled a little, finding a comfortable angle for his head. He sighed as he felt Dean's hand smooth over the stinging skin he'd slapped and gasped when he felt slick fingers suddenly push into him. "Fuck!"

Dean chuckled as Sam's hips jumped and worked his fingers into him. He loved the little mewling cries that fell from his brother's mouth and the way his whole body would follow his hand back each time he drew his fingers out. He landed several more hard slaps to the cheeks of Sam's ass as he worked him open and then pulled away from him entirely to leave Sam gasping on the floor.

"Dean…Dean, please. Please!"

"Oh, not even close to enough yet, Sam." Dean stood and gathered the rest of his supplies before going back and kneeling behind him again. The sight of Sam all spread out for him with his hands cuffed at the small of his back made him shudder and he had to fight the urge to come just from that. When he had himself under control again, he picked up the plug and, as he always did, smiled at the gold letter 'D' stamped into its end. He coated it in lube and then picked up his other purchase, a small egg vibrator. He grinned, coated that as well, and then leaned over Sam's back, pressing his brother's arms between them.

"Twice I could'a lost you on this job because you walked off without me," Dean spoke into Sam's ear as he pushed the egg up inside him, feeling Sam's hips twitch in response, and then he put the end of the plug at his entrance. "And that stunt in the root cellar, leaving yourself open to attack…" Dean shoved the plug into Sam without warning and bit his neck below the collar when Sam shouted with pleasure. "You're not allowed to scare me like that, Sammy." Dean pulled him up suddenly and wrapped his arms across Sam's chest, burying his face in his brother's neck as he held him and let the last of the fear wash away.

"Dean." Sam gasped and turned his head to kiss softly at his ear. "Sorry. I'm sorry. It's ok." He kissed and soothed his big brother while Dean held him and moaned the moment he felt Dean take charge once more and his big brother's cock slid against his back.

"You're gonna be." Dean promised and slowly let go. He stood and pulled Sam up with him gently, using his shoulders to balance him since Sam couldn't use his arms. He walked around in front of him and took Sam's mouth in a heated, needy kiss, licking and biting at his lips so Sam was shaking once more. "Gonna make sure you understand, you're mine," Dean spoke softly and knelt in front of him, looking up the long, muscled line of Sam's chest to meet his lust-blown eyes. "And you don't get to threaten what's mine."

Sam's body shuddered and his head fell back on a gasped moan when Dean's mouth closed around his aching cock. "Dean! Ah…fuck, Dean! Please!" The sensation of his cock slipping into all the wet heat and pressure as Dean hollowed his cheeks and grazed his teeth in all the right places made Sam's hips stutter, trying to push and thrust but Dean's hands held him firm. "Gonna make me…fuck!"

Dean shook his head and pulled off. He took the ring from his pocket and quickly slipped it around the base of Sam's cock, flicking the catch on the gold ring closed as Sam whined. He looked back up at him and caught the weeping head of Sam's cock between his teeth carefully. He loved the taste of him; sweet and salty, like the best pie he'd ever had in his life, and licked to make Sam cry out before he leaned back again.

"You remember your safe word, Sam?" Dean asked him.

Sam's entire body quaked from head to toe with the question and his eyes fell closed. "I…I…" He nodded.

Dean tsked and took the head of his brother's dick in his mouth again. He bit carefully at the small bundle of nerves under the head and felt Sam's knees go weak as he cried out again and then again. "Gotta hear you say it, kiddo. Safe word. Now."

"F…fuck me. Uh…Ch…cherries!" Sam panted and looked frantically down into Dean's eyes and was grateful beyond words for the cock ring or he would have come at that moment.

Dean smiled and stood again, letting Sam's head thump down onto his shoulder and he smoothed his hands up and down his arms, making sure they weren't pulled at a weird angle. "Good, Sam. So good for me." He leaned back and cupped his brother's face in his hands as Sam's breathing began to quiet. "Ok?" He meant it. If Sam said he'd had enough, then they were done; but if Sam had a line he wouldn't cross with or for Dean, Dean had yet to find it, and once more Sam nodded with a lusty smile splitting his face. Dean chuckled.

Sam darted forward and caught his brother's bottom lip with his teeth, sucking it into his mouth before he let go with Dean's groan and smiled at him. "Don't you dare stop."

Dean shook his head fondly and moved back around behind his brother. "Knees." He helped Sam down and used a foot to shove his knees further apart so he was spread wide facing the window. Dean moved around in front of him again and fisted his hands in Sam's hair, pulling so Sam's head arched back as he moaned at the little bites of pain he loved so much. Dean gave his hair a final tug, brushed his fingers over the choker and then stepped away. He went to the window and twitched the curtain open. "I've gotta make a couple calls. Let Bobby know we dealt with things, tell Dave he needs a new bourbon supply," Dean said it nonchalantly and turned back to find Sam's eyes wide as he looked at the open curtains and the window. "Order some pizza maybe." He grinned as Sam opened his mouth and raised a finger in warning, eyes darkening with lust when Sam's mouth snapped closed. "Good boy."

Sam watched Dean walk to the door in no small amount of panic. He desperately wanted to come. He wanted to get his mouth on his brother's cock that was temptingly pressing through the 'v' of his open jeans. He opened his mouth again while Dean reached into his back pocket and a startled shout came out of him as something began to vibrate inside him. "Fuck!"

Dean chuckled and turned back to watch as he dialed the little egg up higher, held inside his brother by the plug and loved the way Sam's stomach muscles visibly shook as he hunched over and whimpered. "I'll be back," he said with a smile and stepped outside. He went and stood in front of the window, looking through the open curtains to see Sam struggle to kneel up straight again and watch his cock bouncing in reaction to the vibrations. Sam's face was a study in desperation and need and Dean took out his phone. He called and ordered food first, then Bobby to assure him the ghost had been dealt with and opted to let the older Hunter call and tell Dave about the damages then tucked his phone away to wait for the delivery while tormenting his brother with the remote, watching him twist and twitch through the glass.

Sam whined. He filled the room with desperate noises. Each time he thought to sit back and get a little friction with the plug holding him open, he saw Dean in the window with a brow raised and kept his place. He could just hear his brother's voice through the window as he spoke into his phone and slammed his eyes closed on a cry as the vibrations picked up speed inside him. The egg was maddeningly sitting against his prostate, tormenting him with sensation and his cock was close to hurting with the need to come.

He saw a shadow move across his closed lids and opened his eyes, gasping as he flushed red from head to toe. Sam could just see the ballcap of someone speaking to Dean on the other side of the window. If Dean moved even a fraction, Sam would be seen, tied and naked, straining with the desire to come. Sam shifted on his knees, thinking to move away out of sight, and then froze as Dean's head turned just enough for him to catch a flash of deep green in the sun, a tacit warning that if he moved, it was over. Sam moaned and put his head back, keeping his place and tried not to think too hard. He didn't want to disappoint Dean, and he knew if he could take whatever Dean dished out, his big brother would make it more than worth his while.

Dean smiled and turned back to the Chinese food delivery guy, making sure to keep his body in front of the window so he wouldn't see Sam instead. He coughed a laugh when the sound of his brother's moan briefly wafted out to them. "Thanks." Dean took the bag of food and watched the driver leave before he pulled out the remote to the tiny vibrator and nudged it up to its highest setting. That time there was no mistaking the passionate shout that came through the window. Dean pulled his jeans open once more as he opened the door, needing the relief of his straining cock being trapped and stepped back into the room. Sam was whimpering on the floor with his chest bowed out, head tipped back and chewing on his bottom lip. Dean twitched the curtains closed, set the food on the table for later, picked up a bottle of water and went to him. He knelt behind his brother and felt the sob shudder through Sam's chest when Dean dialed the vibrations back down and his arms went around him.

"Dean! Dean….please, please, please, oh, god, Dean…I can't…" Sam begged desperately.

"Easy, Sammy. I've gotcha." Dean slid a hand down his brother's chest and stomach to wrap around the impressive, dark and straining heft of his cock. "Did so good for me, little brother. Gonna give you a reward."

Sam nodded furiously as he felt Dean's fingers deftly flip open the cock ring and before he could even process the relief of the pressure, Dean was ordering him to 'come' in his ear and his body obeyed without a second thought. He screamed as he came with Dean's hand jerking him perfectly and his hips pushing the plug deeper into him. His cock pulsed out come up to his chin and on the floor and finally, he sagged back into his big brother's chest; unable to hold himself up any longer and flirting with passing out because it had felt that intense. Sam was vaguely aware of Dean sliding the ring back around him and whimpered at the touch on the now over-sensitive skin.

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's chest again and pulled him back, pressing light kisses to his throat and face while he felt Sam's pounding heart slowly steady out under his hands again. He soothed him, rubbing Sam's chest, digging his fingers into his shoulders and down his arms to make sure he was still comfortable and smiled when Sam's face turned into his neck to suck a mark there. Dean cradled the side of his brother's face and raised a brow. "Done?"

Sam scowled lightly. "Didn't…didn't say cherries, did I?"

Dean chuckled and shook his head.

"Want it." Sam told him and turned to look over at the bureau and the flogger still lying there. He moaned when he felt the shudder pass through his brother's body around him and looked back up at him. "Then I want you."

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean groaned loudly.

Sam laughed softly, nodding and bit the underside of Dean's jaw just where he liked it. "That's…that's the idea."

Dean laughed and picked up the water bottle. He held it carefully to Sam's mouth and helped his brother drink half of it down before he set it aside again and rubbed his thumb over Sam's bite-swollen bottom lip while Sam wiggled his hips back, brushing heavily over Dean's neglected cock. He chuckled and pushed Sam forward enough so he could stand, then tugged him up and supported his brother while he swayed drunkenly with the after-effects of his powerful orgasm. Dean smirked; planning on making sure this was one of those times when Sam completely lost consciousness because it was just that amazing.

"Bend over the end of the bed," Dean ordered, moving his brother so he stood at the foot of the bed facing it. He took hold of Sam's bound wrists to bend him over and ease his head down to the bed, loving the appreciative moan Sam gave him. Dean stretched and grabbed one of the pillows, lifting Sam back up just enough to slide it under him and support his bruised chest. "Good?"

Sam nodded and turned his head to watch Dean pull the flogger off the bureau. He shivered with anticipation and groaned when Dean moved behind him again, took his hips and kicked his legs apart to angle his backside out more. "Please, Dean. Please?"

Dean ran his hands over the round of Sam's ass. He pushed the end of the plug a few times, rocking it and the still slowly vibrating egg inside Sam a few times so his brother whimpered. He grinned then and stepped back, running the soft leather of the flogger's straps through his hand once before he let it fly to slap across the back of Sam's thighs.

Sam shouted at the sudden sting, hips pumping forward as his cock began to fill again and the burn turned to pleasure. He moaned and cried out again and again as the soft, leather straps heated his skin, loving how Dean would vary the rhythm and where hit, making sure that the pain was never completely swallowed in the pleasure. Sam gave a broken scream into the bed when Dean landed a hit between his cheeks and pushed the plug deeper into him. At the same moment, the vibrations from the egg soared back to high and Sam felt tears of need escape his eyes.

Dean tossed the flogger aside and ran his hands over the warm, red-striped skin of his brother's ass. He loved the way Sam fell apart for him and became nothing but the pleasure Dean could give him. He took hold of the plug and eased it out while Sam whimpered for its loss. He tugged gently on the safety cord of the little egg but left it in while Sam twitched.

"You ready for me, Sammy?" Dean asked and realized his voice sounded every bit as rough and needy as his brother's.

"Fuck me," Sam gasped and turned his head to see Dean behind him, begging with his eyes and his voice. "Please, Dean. God, please! So ready for you! Need you to fuck me!"

Dean growled possessively, tore his jeans off his legs, and pressed the head of his cock to Sam's hole, trusting there was enough lube from the plug and knowing Sam wouldn't mind at all if there wasn't. He bent over him, taking hold of the back of the elephant hair collar and used it and Sam's hands to raise his head up and then Dean pushed inside Sam in one long, rough thrust.

"FUCK!" Sam screamed it, only realizing as Dean's cock filled him and made his muscles burn with the stretch that the egg was still there as well and was shoved against his sweet spot. It arched his back further, cutting off more of his air with Dean holding the choker. He pushed back, seeking more.

"Shit, Sam!" Dean yelled and decided he really was going to have buy himself a cock ring at some point as he fought the urge to come because being inside Sam, held tight by the fluttering muscles and with the egg vibrating at the end of his cock, he wasn't going to last. Fortunately, neither was Sam. He let go of the collar and, one at a time, lifted his brother's knees up on the bed. Dean pushed Sam low so that he was spread wide before pulling out and pushing back in with the loud slap of flesh on flesh.

Sam writhed with the feeling of another shattering orgasm creeping up quickly on him. He was shouting and whining, incapable of being silent as Dean overwhelmed him. He was nothing but pent-up pleasure as Dean took hold of his bound hands and slammed into him again and again while the egg buzzed inside him and Dean shoved it harder into that spot each time.

Dean held Sam's hands and leaned back just enough to spank his brother's ass hard, leaving the imprint of his hand behind each time until Sam was incoherent with pleasure under him. He had only moments left himself and reached around Sam's hip, took hold of his neglected cock for a few hard jerks of his hand and then he flicked the cockring open. Sam's entire body seemed to seize up for one, long moment, the muscles inside him gripping Dean's cock so hard he couldn't even move, and then his little brother's back arched as a ragged scream tore itself from him. Jet after hot jet of come pulsed from Sam's cock, over Dean's hand and onto the bed while he writhed.

"SAM!" Dean near-screamed it as his own orgasm tore through him. He curled over Sam's shuddering back to bite into his neck as he thrust erratically inside of him, filling him with his release until spots danced over his vision and he collapsed.

Dean came slowly back to himself enough to realize that Sam couldn't possibly be comfortable like that, crushed underneath him with his bound arms squeezed between his back and Dean's chest. He slipped slowly out of Sam, hissing with the over sensitized drag of skin, and made himself slide off him to his side. "Hey, Sammy," Dean said hoarsely and smiled, chuckling breathlessly as he found his little brother out cold, just as he'd planned. He rested his head in Sam's hair for a few seconds, breathing in the scent of him and then made himself move with a groan.

Dean eased off the bed and gently tugged the egg out of Sam, flicking it off and dropped it to the floor to worry about later. He uncuffed Sam's wrists and was pleased to see only a faint reddening of the skin from the restraint as he tossed them to the nightstand. He brushed a tender hand down Sam's sweat-drenched back and then went to the bathroom for a damp towel, coming back out and spent a few minutes cleaning himself and Sam, then rolled his not-so-little brother to his back and into his arms for the short trip to the other bed.

"Sam." Dean slid in behind his brother and eased Sam up against his chest with his head on his shoulder. He massaged his fingers into Sam's shoulders to ease any strain being cuffed had done and smiled at the first soft moan. "Wake up, buddy." He ran his hands up and down Sam's arms in a slow, strong massage, digging his thumbs into his shoulders while Sam's head turned into his neck and still he didn't open his eyes. Dean chuckled. "You gonna give me a sign here?"

Sam smiled and mouthed at his brother's neck behind his ear as the world slowly came back to him with Dean's voice. "Mmm hmm."

Dean rolled his eyes and slid them both down the bed until he could get Sam on his side and curl up behind him. He kept Sam wrapped in his arms and kissed softly at the back of his neck over and around the collar. "You alright?"

Sam nodded and pushed back so every inch of the back of his body was pressed into his brother's. "M'awesome," he mumbled happily. He knew he was going to feel it later once the endorphins wore off, but just then, all he felt was beautifully used and loved.

Dean laughed softly and let Sam settle in his arms against him, swinging one leg up over his little brother's and smiled into his hair. "Get some sleep, Sammy." He said it softly and closed his eyes, wondering what he'd done right to deserve Sam in his life. He held him more tightly, tangling the fingers of one hand in the choker at Sam's throat and tumbled into well-earned, exhausted sleep with him.

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The End.