Notes: So this one's to the lovely IggyInin20218, who prompted this ficlet in wondering how the brothers would have reacted to getting shot by the Cupid if Sam had still been soulless at that point. Here's my take on answering that question, so have fun :D

Warnings/Pairing: Wincest, obviously - including mature scenes and Robo Sam, which means it gets kinky enough for me to feel dirty writing this even though there's nothing terribly graphic involved. Also, if you're looking for an actual plot, well...there's a major framework at least xD

Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural, srsly.

Ringtones

Dean Winchester prided himself in being more than just a hunter.

He was a lady killer.

Short or tall, blonde or brunette, he could have them all – and if the job allowed it, well, he would have them all. Usually, a mere wink was all it took to have them swooning all over him. Afterwards, they would always ask him to call back, because, frankly, he was just that good.

After decades of experience, he knew his way around the female body.

Around the male body, though...not that much.

Not in that sense.

Not that he would need to, per say.

And yet he could not deny he had caught himself preying upon a certain man confusingly often lately.

But the fact he felt attracted to another guy wasn't even the worst part about his sudden shift in preferences. His latest crush wasn't just any other man.

It was Sam.

For whatever sick reason, he had ended up harbouring a crush on his giant of a baby brother that was currently running around as a soulless, scheming and absolutely unscrupulous man-whore.

Hell, Dean knew for a fact this absurd, distorted version of Sam would bang everything without thinking twice about it, not just for the bodily pleasure but simply because he could.

And as much as Dean insisted on blaming something supernatural - a curse, a Cupid, anything! - it might as well have been nothing but his brother's change of behaviour that had ignited his own strange new desires in the first place.

One of the few pro sides to Sam's downgrade to the walking half-dead was that he never tired out. At least, it was and advantage in regards of driving long distances. Dean hated having to trust him – no, strike that, he hated not being able to trust that new Sam farther than an arm's length – but when it came to driving from one place to the other, there really wasn't that much that could go wrong, was there?

Yawning loudly, Dean stretched from what must have been four hours of sleep at the very least. He even felt a bit relaxed in spite of the car's steady rocking.

Which it usually did, except for now.

Ever so slowly, Dean opened his eyes and caught sight of his brother's back as he was sitting on the hood of the parked car with his eyes fixed on his phone. Eyes narrowing, the older hunter was on alert in an instant.

If it was important enough to get his workaholic of a zombie brother to pull over in the middle of nowhere, shit was going to come down.

Getting out of the passenger's seat, he rounded the car to find Robo Sam already staring up at him with that intense yet non-committal stare of his. "I had an idea about a possible connection between several of the cases we've done lately," he explained without even being asked to, "so I asked Bobby to give it a quick check. He should call back any minute now."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "What kind of connection?" he asked slowly and furrowed his brows in dismay, "Crowley?"

"Might be," Sam replied and looked down when just in that moment, the phone in his hand started vibrating. Rather than accepting the call right away, though, he sent Dean a challenging look. "Dude," he commented with a small smirk, "check out my new ringtone."

Frowning, Dear glared at the buzzing device. They might have been set up and all Sam cared about was some goddamn new age music score?

What kind of douche bag activated both the vibration alarm and the ringtone on their phones at the same time anyway?

Sure enough, the buzzing was soon joined by an audio file playing.

But rather than awful music, Dean found himself listening to something that drained all the blood from his face.

"Sammy...," he heard his own sleepy voice moaning, "no...don't you d-...aaah."

Yanking the phone from his brother's grip to just accept the fucking call, Dean made the mistake of meeting his eyes.

His breath stopped for a moment.

Shit.

"Bobby, I'll call back later," he grunted into the receiver and stashed the phone away.

Shit.

His eyes were still locked with his brother's.

Shit.

It had been an innocent dream. Not so innocent, granted, but what could he do? He had been trying hard to keep his latest kink a secret, but he was a man after all. He could only control his own needs that far, could he?

That, however, had suddenly gotten him stuck with the worst case scenario. Robo Sam had picked up the scent – his scent – and Dean had no idea how to throw him off track again.

"Do I need to call my phone again?" the monster that was his brother and yet wasn't purred and suddenly leant far too close for comfort, "Or will you repeat those noises for me voluntarily?"

Choking on his own breath, Dean pushed his brother away and got off the car at the same time. "Stop fucking with me," he warned at a low voice, "If you ever even as much as mention this to me again I swear I'll – " His words, as angry and menacing as they had been meant to be, were stuck in his throat when his eyes landed on bare skin that was becoming more and more visible with every button undone.

"You'll what?" Sam challenged as he tossed his own shirt on the windshield, enjoying his brother's mesmerized eyes on him just a tad too much, "You'll fuck me up?" Shaking his head with a low chuckle, he stepped close enough to invade Dean's personal space as his voice dropped to a mere whisper. "Let me tell you something," he purred as he reached for the waistband of his brother's denim and slapped his hands away when he tried to resist, "That is definitely not a gun in your trousers..." His eyes held a mad glint in them as they shot up to meat Dean's again. "But one way or the other, it will blow its load tonight." His lips curled into a smirk, "It's up to you whether you actually enjoy it."

Breathing haggardly, Dean lowered his chin. He had not even noticed Sam pinning his hands against the hood of the Impala. What he had noticed was the sheer need in his brother's every movement, the sheer desire racing through his own body and...the immense tension produced by Sam's thigh pressing itself against his groin.

In the heat of the moment, he forgot that this was not the real Sam – that this was not what they were meant to have in the first place.

In the heat of the moment, Dean forgot himself.

And he let go.

If anybody ever dared asking them about that particular evening, Dean would swear on everything he believed in that it had been his soulless brother running rampant. That he had tried fighting their mad love until he no longer could – until further resistance would have meant breaking at least a couple of the soulless bastard's bones.

Technically, it was not even that far from the truth.

Technically, he had debated internally.

Technically, he had not given in right away.

But as he was lying on the Impala's hood with Sam's intense, possessive passion all over him, he could not help enjoying it.

He could not keep himself from crying out when pain and pleasure sent him over the edge at last.

He could not keep himself from marvelling at his brother's lean figure as he simply continued sending shivers through Dean's body with his every movement.

"Dean," Sam rasped breathlessly as he, too, came close at last, "say it."

Needless to say, Dean arched an eyebrow without voicing anything. If Sam had already made him his bitch, then the last thing he was allowed was a timely relief.

On cue, though, they heard something vibrating within the puddle of clothes at Sam's feet.

"Sammy...no...don't you d-...aaah."

Inhaling sharply, Sam focused a hazy glare on his brother. "Dean," he warned throatily.

Dean chuckled in spite of himself. Apparently that sick, kinky ringtone didn't quite do the trick, which left Sam at his mercy at least for the moment.

"Sam, Sam, Sam," Dean whispered as he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Sam's head up to make him meet his eyes, "You do realize you bought my anal virginity with yours?"

Sam's pupils dilated.

"Next time, I'll bend you over, bitch," Dean promised menacingly.

And Sam came at last.

"And there I thought we shared a thing," Sam spat out, trying in vain to free himself from the shackles.

Dean stared back without a hint of sympathy. "You're broken," he countered tiredly, "You need to be mended, man."

"I'm functional," Sam retorted and his voice grew more and more desperate, "Put this thing into me and then you'll see what broken really means." His eyes were fearful, and for once, Dean felt like he was seeing a real emotion there. "You're killing me and you know it," Sam whimpered.

"You'll be better," Dean promised and stared at the blindingly white light that would turn his brother complete again.

It was beautiful.

When it came to choosing whether to have his brother in bed or whether to have him intact, his decision should be obvious. Just as he would never forgive himself for letting Sam's soul suffer through eternities in the cage, he could not keep going without his real brother at his side.

So why did he want this Sam to stay, too?

Why could he no longer bear looking at those angry, despairing eyes?

Why did he feel like a traitor?

Things were back to normal.

Dean was heartbroken, of course – or whatever it was that got broken when you lost the best fuck buddy you've ever had.

But Sam was alright.

Sam was alive, and complete, and sweet, and oblivious.

Not entirely oblivious, of course, but at least he had finally regained the decency to ignore Dean moaning in his sleep.

They were sitting in a diner, having lunch while discussing their respective progress on the case when Sam's phone started vibrating in his pocket. "That'll be Bobby," he commented as he rummaged through all the stuff he must have hoarded there for a moment too long.

All too soon, the custom ringtone set in, deep-freezing both brothers as it echoed throughout the diner.

"Sammy...no...don't you d-...aaah."

Inhaling deeply, Sam finally ended the awkward torment by answering the call after all, but not without sending Dean a half-hearted glare.

"Yeah, all the vics were male so we figured that much," Sam was talking to Bobby, professional as always.

Dean, meanwhile, felt like biting himself for being stupid enough not to change that damn ringtone. Of course Robo Sam, being ever the sadistic bastard, had insisted on keeping it. But that had been then.

Now, on the other hand, it wasn't just a nuisance, but a painful remainder – of something that was lost, but also of something that could be lost; Rediscovering any buried memory of Sam's might risk breaking the wall altogether.

Dean should have taken that into consideration.

He should have changed that damn ringtone.

"Yeah, thanks Bobby," Sam spoke and ended the call at last. His gaze travelled back to Dean, but it was no longer angry or confused.

There was something dark and calculating in that gaze.

Something Dean had not seen in him since he had regained his soul.

Something Dean hated himself for having missed so much.

"You should have told me about this, Dean," Sam announced bluntly and bitchfaced, "About us."

"You should never have found out in the first place," Dean countered angrily, "If the wall breaks, then –"

Sam raised his finger, shushing his brother with a mere glare. "You have two choices now, Dean," he offered at a dangerously deep voice, "You either apologize right here and now." His gaze darkened, yet his lip curled into a smirk, "or I'll punish you later."

Dean's eyes widened.

This was Sam, his Sam – not the heartless thing he had spent countless nights making love to.

But something as small as that ringtone had made him remember – what they had shared and how they had shared it.

Suddenly, Sam knew Dean had enjoyed being dominated – that at one point, they had enjoyed it together. And even though he now had his soul...he was willing to go along with it?

Gulping, Dean needed a full minute to trust his voice again. Staring at Sam's demanding eyes for another moment, he nodded towards the restroom at last.

"Both."

They were leaning against the cold and dirty tiles, breathing heavily from the sheer passion they shared in its full intensity for the first time ever.

Feeling up everything that made Sam Sam, Dean craned his neck to suck the skin on his brother's neck eagerly.

Sam, meanwhile, busied himself pleasing his brother in other ways.

Before long, it was not a cell phone's ringtone that echoed through the rest room, but the an actual moan escaping Dean's throat.

"Sammy...no...don't you d-...aaah."

And if it was for Sam, his Sam, then he didn't even mind making such noises.

- FIN -

Notes: So altogether, they really didn't care all that much whether the initial spark came naturally in the first place, do they? ;D
So thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! If so (or if not) please leave a review! Remember: reviews are awesome and tend to speed up people's writing tremendously :D :D :D