A/N: This is it, the end of the line. Thanks for hanging with me during this tale of Winchester loving. I hope you've enjoyed the ride and don't worry. There's always another Wincest story just around the corner :D

A friend brought to my attention that Dean, after spending three days in the hospital, shouldn't be doing anything strenuous like having mad animal sex but I keep thinking about how when Sam, brought back from the dead, wouldn't listen to Dean and take a rest either so in my story, my Winchesters are superheroes, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound (ok, well, maybe not) but they at least never admit weakness, defeat or that they may not be up to having mad animal sex in the shower. Hey, give me a little leeway here. I don't want to write a boring two-day wait until Dean feels up to it. So, I acknowledge that it's not realistic but sorry, Isaac, mad animal sex ensues. :D

Song lyrics below by Kelly Clarkson-Beautiful Disaster

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He's soft to the touch
But frayed at the end he breaks

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This is a bad fucking idea.

Dean's fingers tap against the steering wheel, keeping time to Zeppelin thumping through the Impala's speakers. He keeps glancing over, trying to catch Sam's eye, almost speaking but stopping himself, thinking better of it, letting the silence flow over them, breaking it every so often to sing softly along with the music.

A seriously bad fucking idea.

Sam stares out the window, nerves jingling in his skin, lungs squeezed for breath and he rubs his sweaty palms over his thighs, can't look at his brother because Dean'll see the fear shaking through him, that he's trying so hard to hide and he's not ready for this, not at all. It's not like Dean's giving him much of a choice, though – nope, he wants this settled yesterday and he's not going to take no for an answer so all Sam can do right now is hang on and hope he can keep a grip, keep his emotions clutched tight and not let go, not even for a second.

At the lake, Dean pays for two days, asking if Campsite 22 is available and smiling when he's told it is, handing over the map to Sam and driving off, reaching over to squeeze Sam's thigh and resting there, nodding confidently when Sam finally works up the courage to look over.

"It'll be ok, Sammy. Promise."

Sam wishes he could believe him. Shit, this is a bad idea.

#

Dean parks the car and shuts it off and they both sit, listening to the quiet, letting the peace of the place fill them up, the smells and sounds reminding Sam of how good it had been before, him and Dean, and his face flushes with desire. He's shifting in his seat, jeans suddenly uncomfortably tight over his crotch and Sam finally manages to look full on at his brother, staring at his profile. God, he's fucking gorgeous.

Dean slides his eyes over to Sam, a grin tugging at his lips and Sam sees the memories crowding on his face as well, "Good times, right? Sam, we have to come back here in ten years and camp out for the weekend, just for old times sake, huh?"

Sam tries again, to talk some sense into his brother, to talk him out of this, "Dean, I don't want-"

"Come on, gonna be dark soon. Let's unpack."

#

The rope is stiff between Sam's trembling fingers and he tries to roll a slipknot into it but he can't work it right, doesn't want to do this and damn it, he's not going to, finally throwing it down in disgust. It's twilight at the lake and they're in the shower, back where they were three days ago and the memories of this place crowd in on Sam, picking and cutting into him until he's quaking numb.

Dean looks up at him questioningly, searching his face in the dim glow of lamplight and Sam shakes his head, "Dean, no. I can't."

Dean's jaw tightens, the tic in his cheek fluttering wildly and his eyes take on an angry glint. He exhales, nodding, "Ok, Sam, we'll do it your way. We'll go back to being just brothers again if that's what you want and just forget this whole thing ever happened."

Rubbing at the tension in his neck, Sam is so grateful that Dean is finally giving in and understanding that he doesn't catch on to the anger simmering under his brother's skin, instead, nodding gamely back, whispering, "Thanks, man. Thanks."

Dean continues smoothly, his voice hardening into stone as he speaks, "Lots easier to do that than actually work at this, right? Taking the chicken-shit way out's always worked for you before, hasn't it, Sammy? You ran away from me when you went to Stanford and you're running now-"

"What?" Sam can't believe Dean just said that to him, "That's not true!"

"No? Well, it is from where I'm standing!" Dean mimics him, voice high and feminine, "Oh, Dean, I just can't do it…I'm afraid. Well, you know what? Screw you, Sam!" And he pushes past Sam to go outside.

"Dean! Come on!" Sam follows blindly, reaching out a hand "I need you to try to understand!"

"Oh, I do understand, that's the pathetic part. I don't even know who you are anymore, man. My brother would never lay down and die like this – give up something he's wanted his whole life because the going got a little tough, because he got scared unless-"

Sam's heart skips a beat in his chest "Unless what?"

"Unless you've been lying to me this whole time, feeding me a line of shit, telling me how much you wanted this, wanted me and not meaning it for a second."

A lick of anger curls through Sam's stomach, "You know that's not true!"

Dean growls out the words, "I don't know anything right now, Sam, not anymore. All I know is, we were together and I got hurt and now...everything we said, everything we did, doesn't seem to matter to you anymore. I trusted you, man, let you see me, all of me- ", Raking his fingers through his hair, self-remorse in every move, Dean shakes his head against the memory, "Jesus. Double standard is what it is, ok for me but not for you? When it's you that gets exposed, you just fucking get to run? Just-"

Suddenly, his shoulders slump, all the fight gone out of him and he looks past Sam, towards the woods in sadness, "Just forget it, all of it. I don't want you anymore either."

And he's stomping away before Sam can get out another word.

Sam stares after him, stunned. Dean didn't mean that, he couldn't. Why can't he understand that Sam's only looking out for him, trying to protect him and it's because Sam loves him, not because he doesn't. Dean's got no right to question how deep Sam feels, how much he feels-

And he's got no right to call Sam a coward, worse still, a liar. Especially when it was Sam that made them come together in the first place, forcing Dean to face his feelings and not taking no for an answer when Dean ran, making Dean admit and reveal, breaking down every wall his brother could erect until Dean let him the fuck in.

Yeah, who's the fucking coward in all this? Sure isn't him and if it's the last thing he does, he's gonna make Dean take back those words. Chicken-shit, my ass!

The thought that Dean just got out of the hospital flickers through his brain and is gone just as fast, if this is the way Dean wants it to go down, then Sam's gonna fucking give it to him, both barrels and guns blazing.

With the burning lick of anger crowding into his brain, Sam firms his jaw and starts after his brother, the determined lope of his long legs easily catching up to Dean, stamping hard so Dean can hear him coming. Sam sees his brother turn back for a look and stop, wheeling around at the wrath, at the rage evident on Sam's face, and Dean takes his stand, clenching his fists at his sides, ready for it, knowing Sam too well to even think this is gonna end friendly.

Sam doesn't stop, just barrels on through, throwing himself into Dean, using his body weight to carry them down and they hit hard, with a thud of bones, twigs and sticks poking as they roll, each wrestling for top. Hands grab and pull, fists pummel and elbows jab, muscles straining, torsos and hips twisting and writhing, grunts and curses peppering the air as they punch and claw at each other.

Dean manages to flip him and Sam's head catches the edge of a rock, flares of pain giving him tunnel vision for precious seconds as hands slam his shoulders down, holding him fierce and he shakes his mind clear, feeling hot breath panting in his face.

"Stay down, you son of a bitch!" Dean snarls at him but Sam won't, not now and he lunges up with his forehead, catching Dean just under the chin, hearing the crunch of jaw and when the fingers gripping him go slack, he bucks up his hips, using his whole body to throw Dean to the side and off.

He manages to scramble to his knees before Dean hits him, knocking him backwards but he doesn't go down, refuses to, he's more pissed than he's ever been in his life right about now and he doesn't even duck the next swing, falls right into it, using it to fuel the red hot anger surging through him-

The rage has been smoldering inside him for days, ever since that fucking spirit took away his control and with a roar, he strikes, with all the fury and pain seething in his gut and the sound his fist makes against Dean's cheek, the wet thud of skin on skin barely registers the first time, or the second or the third. Only when he sees Dean go down and stay down does he stop, breathing harshly into the dusk, staring down at his brother wondering what the fuck he just did.

"Dean?" Sam croaks, reaching down to touch, hands running over Dean, feeling for breath, for life.

A low moan reaches his ears, Dean's alive and Sam's gonna give him what he wants, God damn it, gritting his teeth in resolve, gathering Dean up, hefting him over a shoulder and carrying him unsteadily back to the shower, not even noticing the tears rolling down his cheeks.

#

He feels Dean jerk awake, twitching in the darkening night and gives him a moment to adjust, to realize where he is and what's happening.

"Sam?" his voice is hoarse, unsure.

He's standing just behind, pressed up against Dean's back, holding his brother's hips tightly against his own, and Sam dips his head, breathing into Dean's ear, "Right here."

Dean looks up and tugs at the ropes around his wrists, binding him to the shower head, "I thought you-"

Sam cuts him off sharply, "Shut up. No talking unless I say you can. If you speak again, I'll gag you."

He hears the hard swallow, feels Dean tense up and smells the arousal, the fear, rolling off his brother in waves. He licks his tongue along Dean's earlobe, slowly, gently, up and down, mumbling softly, "Do you like this? Do you like knowing that I'm going to do whatever I want to you and you can't stop me?"

Sam's hand rolls over Dean's hip and slips under his shirt, smoothing the skin on his lower belly tenderly before sliding down, under the waistband of his jeans and over the growing bulge in his underwear, gripping rough and squeezing tight, pulling a low moan from his brother before Dean manages to bite his lip and cut off the sound.

Pulling his hand out, Sam grips the collar of Dean's t-shirt in both hands and yanks, ripping it away with a satisfying slash, leaving Dean's chest bare and glistening. Sam stands back a moment to admire the view, the dim bulb overhead illuminating the tan muscles, the wide expanse of chest that tapers to a firm waist and he can't help himself, he has to touch, has to have this-

He tears the rest of the tattered cloth from Dean's back, earning a grunt from his brother and says with satisfaction, running his fingers over the taut back muscles, around the biceps and shoulders, "Much better."

One hand grips Dean's jaw, pulling it rough to one side, baring his neck for Sam's kiss and he bends over the soft skin, licking a path down from ear to shoulder and back up, biting and nipping along the tendon, sucking small marks in Dean's flesh as he strokes his other hand up and over the flat abdomen, feeling the skin twitch and roll under his fingers. Goose flesh rises on Dean's arms and he shivers against Sam's lips, the tremble stirring Sam's arousal, his erection swift and painful and he moans against the sweet taste on his tongue.

"Mmmm, delicious…" He hums against Dean's throat, smiling as his brother's body gives an answering jerk, knowing Dean's nerves are probably tingling sparks of fire under his skin right about now.

Sam releases Dean long enough to yank off his own shirt, dropping it behind him before he's back, molding his chest to Dean's back, hot skin to hot skin, tickling along the shuddering ribs, whispering across before tapping gently and sliding up over the nipples, caressing lightly with the pads of his fingers before sharply pinching them to hardness.

"Jesus-" Dean is shaking now, trying not to speak but his body is taking over, the gasps and moans of delight being pulled from him are music to Sam's ears and when Sam's hands go to Dean's pants, unbuttoning and unzipping, his brother's hips start thrusting, straining towards Sam's hands and the pleading whimpers falling from Dean's lips are almost Sam's undoing.

Sam takes a deep breath for self-control and pushes the jeans and underwear down over Dean's hips and legs, letting them drop to the floor.

"Kick them off." He whispers in Dean's ear.

When his brother complies, Sam continues, muttering hotly, "Just so you understand. This body is mine."

His hand finds Dean's dick and grips the base tight, his palm hot against the shaft and Dean's back stiffens at his touch. "This is mine."

"And this ass…this-" he breathes the words into the air between them, working his middle finger of his other hand into Dean and jabbing roughly, "this sweet, hot, hole is all mine…"

Dean bites off a moan at the intrusion and Sam pushes in another finger, plunging deep, growling his possession, "Mine. No one else's…say it, Dean!"

Hissing out his breath when Sam stabs into him again, Dean manages on a groan, "Y-yours, Sammy, Christ…, all-all yours…"

Sam bites into Dean's neck hard before licking over it, pain before pleasure, his brother shivering under his mouth, "That's right, Dean. Now I'm gonna make sure you never forget it…gonna make sure you feel me for weeks…"

He shoves his legs in between Dean's, spreading him wide apart, and starts to jerk Dean off, working his palm up and down, dragging the skin, letting his thumb roll around the sensitive tip, circling the slit with each upward drag, fucking into Dean's ass with his other hand and soon, his brother is gasping with delight, rolling his hips forward and back, not knowing which way to thrust, muscles rigid with desire, with tension.

Sam lets his fingernail scrape along the bottom of Dean's dick, along the pulsing vein that lay just inside his velvet skin and earns a bark of pleasure from the man writhing uncontrollably in front of him. He slowly curves his fingers still buried in Dean, stroking in and out, searching with each inward jab, until he hits the pleasure zone, the live wires that cause his brother to almost jump out of his skin at the touch.

Dean can barely keep still now, whining deep in his chest and spreading his legs obscenely, wantonly pushing back on Sam's fingers, thrusting his ass up and down, his eyes closed in ecstasy, teeth bared in a snarl at the rush of sparks surging through him, delivered by his brother's rough hands.

Sam lets his thumb flick over the tip of Dean's dick again, scooping up the pearly drop oozing from the slit and bringing it to Dean's nipple, rubbing the wet over the hard nub and then flicking at it with his finger, sharp stings that make Dean twitch and writhe. Back down, Sam thumbs over the tip of Dean's cock again, gathering up another silken tear and bringing it to the other nipple, rolling and pinching the peak stiff until it almost throbs in Sam's hands.

Dean is huffing and gasping so loud, Sam's sure the whole world can hear him and his body is rolling and pitching, white-knuckled hands gripping the shower head above him, and he turns his head towards Sam, mouth forming silent words "Please, please", begging Sam to take him, fuck him but Sam shakes his head, holding back. Not yet…not yet.

Sam's hand is back down at Dean's cock, stroking and pulling, Dean's hips rocking forward to meet him and Sam's thumb scoops up another drop of sweet come, sliding up Dean's body, bypassing his nipples, going higher until he reaches Dean's soft lips, pressing in until Dean opens for him, takes his thumb in to suck, swirling his tongue around and over, licking it clean and giving a moan of dismay when Sam takes it back from him

Sam reaches down to his own pants, unzipping and kicking them off, his cock falling free, hot and heavy as he spits into his hand and slip slides his palm over himself, getting his shaft good and wet. He pulls his fingers out of Dean and spits on them, shoving back in, working Dean open and Dean responds eagerly, welcoming him back with moans of bliss.

"You know what I'm gonna do now, Dean?" Sam breathes into his brother's ear.

With his other hand, Sam pushes down Dean's back, bending him over, shoulders wrenched at this angle because of how he's tied and it must be painful but Sam just forces him lower until his ass is jutting out, defenseless and wide open, just waiting for a hard dick to be shoved inside. Sam's hands are on Dean's ass now, spreading him even more, positioning himself for the line drive and he wedges the head of his dick into Dean's tight hole.

"I'm gonna fuck this ass-" and Sam shoves in, burrowing only a few inches as Dean grunts out in pain, rock hard sphincter muscles shutting down, blocking access.

"As hard as I want-" Sam pulls out, thrusting in sharp, not giving Dean time to fill his lungs with air before he's forcing a gasp out of him, laying a line of fire straight up into Dean's ass, and he's wiggling and groaning around Sam's dick, which, truth be told, is making Sam feel pretty damn good right about now.

"For as long as I want-" Sam jerks backwards, plunging in again, halfway there now and he's shoving on through, forcing his way past Dean's muscles and finally Dean breaks, a shout bursting out of him.

"Fuck, Sam! Give me a…gotta breathe, man!" Dean's got a death grip on the ropes around his hands, panting and wheezing in his chest, trying to relax his muscles so he can take in the gargantuan dick trying to split him in two. Sam stops, dead quiet and reaches around, pulling Dean's chin sideways, so he can see his brother's profile.

"I said no talking!" and his hand cups over Dean's mouth, fingers digging in under the sculpted cheekbones, feeling the moist breath on his palm as his brother huffs against his grip. He slides his cock almost all the way out of Dean's ass before bucking forward again with a mighty thrust of hips and Dean groans against his hand, eyes closed tight. Again and again, Sam jerks out and pounds in, catching Dean's grunts and moans in his sweaty palm, until finally, Sam's in, buried to the hilt, balls smacking up against Dean's ass.

Sam leans down over his brother, suddenly realizing he's crying and doesn't know how long that's been going on but he's glad Dean can't see, glad Dean doesn't know just how much Sam hates himself right now for loving this. Fact is, Sam's never been so turned on in his life, the sounds coming from his brother turning him feral, wild and he wants to mark Dean, own him and keep those whimpers of pain coming fast and furious until all Dean can think, all Dean can feel, is Sam.

"You like that, Dean? This is what you wanted, right? For me to take you rough…to hurt you? Are you happy now, you son of a bitch?" Sam almost sobs the words at him, pulling out and jabbing in sharp, deep, again and again, crying and fucking his brother's ass hard and fast, ripping Dean wide open-

Dean is wheezing out hot breath against Sam's hand, trying to straighten, pulling himself upright by his grip on the rope and he turns his head towards Sam slightly, catching his gaze and to Sam's astonishment, he feels Dean's tongue against his palm, swiping once then twice and he slowly lowers his hand, gaping at the steamy heat in Dean's eyes.

"Dean, what-"

"I need your – I need your fucking mouth, Sammy-" Dean gasps into the air, straining to twist his neck further, groping with his lips towards Sam's and Sam bends in, unsure, feathering his mouth across Dean's, his tears wetting Dean's face as they touch.

They're not supposed to kiss while he's doing this. Kissing is for when they're loving on each other, not when he's being vicious and brutal, hurting and hating his brother for putting them here. He doesn't understand-

Dean's lips grasp and cling, desperation and need sucking Sam in, pushing Sam's mouth open, fucking in with his tongue, finding Sam's and curling around in a frenzy, teeth clashing together as Dean gives an animal growl of pleasure. He bites at Sam's bottom lip, gritting out wildly "Fucking harder!" , pushing himself back onto Sam's cock, frantically covering Sam's mouth again, kissing the breath right out of both of them.

A curtain lifts in his mind and as fast as a heartbeat, Sam gets it, gets what Dean had been trying to tell him, gets why he craves this-

It's testing limits, taking each other to the edge of endurance and seeing how much they can take, how much they can stand before they break. It's training all over again, just like they've been doing their whole lives and even though he's always hated this life, this weight on his shoulders, training, sparring with Dean was always where he felt the safest, the most loved.

They're like two caribou bucking horns, rutting and ramming each other, family always and forever, their love for each other and their anger at their lives intertwined, interchangeable and Dean's right, it's ok to be like this because this is their normal.

The love that surges up inside of Sam is overwhelming and he kisses Dean back, battening down on his mouth, crashing their lips and teeth together, wild and out of control.

Dean shifts position, lifting up a knee, wedging it in between his belly and the wall in front of him, opening himself up wider, giving Sam a better angle and Sam feels his dick twitch in anticipation as he pulls back and shoves in again, plunging deep and swallowing the answering rumble that jumps out of Dean's throat. Faster and faster, his hips move, bucking up into Dean and falling back, hard thrust and rabid pleasure, the slip-slap of flesh on flesh filling up the air around them.

Needing to breath, Sam breaks the kiss and greedily latches onto Dean's neck, sucking and biting as Dean throws back his head to allow better access. Can't hold off much longer, Sam thinks, half-crazed with the flames shooting through his belly, spreading wide and filling his mind, his balls with hot lava, and he's going higher and faster with each stroke into his brother's sweet, hot ass. Climbing now, almost to the top, he hovers there, burying his dick deep inside Dean as spasms rock through Sam's body, tremors shake as he's slipping, tumbling over the edge, exploding into the warm channel, filling Dean up with his seed, rocking half-hearted thrusts in until he's finished spurting and now he's just trembling with the aftershocks. He can't catch his breath, dizzy and swooning as he takes in big whoops of air, dimly hearing his brother's voice but the roar of blood in his ears drowns it out and he lets himself rest for a moment, sliding out of Dean and holding onto the wall for dear life.

Dean's voice suddenly penetrates, his husky whisper pleading, begging, "Sammy, I didn't-fuck, please, Sam, can you-?" and with a groan, Dean tries to buck against the wall and Sam realizes Dean didn't come, is still rock hard and hurting for release.

Sam nuzzles in under Dean's ear and breathes, "I got you, Dean."

He reaches up, untying the knot that holds Dean to the shower head and turning him around so he's facing Sam, bound wrists dropping over Sam's head, curling around his neck, Dean staring up at his brother dazedly. Sam leans forward, laying a blistering kiss on Dean's soft lips, his tongue swirling in, sucking down the honeyed taste, opening wider and they meet in the middle, eager, hungry mouths taking and giving until they have to break for breath, panting into the stale air between them.

Sam's eyes lock on Dean's as he drops down onto his knees, opening his mouth wide to take in Dean's hot, pulsing length, swiping his tongue along the base as Dean's hips start bucking almost immediately. The sweet taste of Dean's flesh fills Sam's brain and the smell of him, sweet Jesus, it's enough to drive a man crazy and suddenly, Sam can't get enough, can't get close enough or get Dean in deep enough. He's diving down, sucking wildly on the throbbing dick in his mouth, grabbing Dean's ass with both hands and yanking him forward, meeting the thrust eagerly, taking him deep and Dean is falling back against the wet cedar wall, cock jerking and throbbing in Sam's hot mouth, muttering in sweet gasps, "God, Sammy, those fucking lips…that mouth…Christ, Sam, so good…love watching you…that's it, right there…"

Muffled moans of pleasure work out of him as he feasts, mouth full of Dean so he can't speak but he sucks and licks, and Dean's eyes are half-lidded, glittering down at him in hungry lust, watching his dick slide in and out of Sam's mouth. He can hear Dean's breath, loud and rasping and hands grip his hair, Dean whimpering with each swirl of Sam's tongue, body trembling all over-

Sam reaches around, slipping a finger back up inside of Dean's ass and circling gently, unprepared for the sudden reaction from Dean, musta hit the right place, his brother jumping like he just got struck by lightening and Dean's babbling out words, barely making sense, "Fuck, Sam, fuck, gonna…Jesus Christ…gonna come, gonna...holy sh-"

And Dean throbs in his mouth, giving a deep thrust and Sam feels the hot liquid hit his palette, striking the back of his throat and his tongue. He moans on the taste, the salty musk consuming him and he's sucking it down, swallowing fast, not wanting to lose a drop, drinking Dean dry until his brother falls back into the wall, body quaking with tremors, after sparks zinging through him, making him twitch.

Sam pulls off, licking Dean clean and stands up, looping his brother's tied hands around his neck and they stare into each other's eyes, searching for truth. Sam's afraid again, scared he went too far but he's not running anymore and if he overstepped, Dean needs to say that and they need to get this straight.

"Was that what you want-?" he begins and Dean's mouth is on his, swirling in with his tongue until Sam can't think, can't breathe but the answer to his question is right there, kissing the life out of him-

#

They walk slowly back to their campsite, Dean limping slightly but beaming up at him, eyes glowing with satisfaction, with love for Sam and he bumps against Sam's shoulder to get his attention.

"You owe me a t-shirt, dude."

Sam looks down at Dean, shaking his head in response, his own eyes dark with emotion, the fear he's been living with for days gone, disappeared like it never was and he feels a grin tug at his own lips, the love for his stupid damn brother shining out of him, swelling his heart so big it aches in his chest.

There aren't words to say thank you in enough ways, to tell Dean just how broken he was and how whole he is and so all Sam can do is bump back, knowing Dean will get it and understand all Sam's feeling right now.

"So." Sam clears his throat, "Camp 22?"

Dean shrugs and his grin gets even wider, eyes crinkling up at Sam in mischief, "I thought later, we might go visit an old friend" and he gestures towards the trees, "Haven't been humped up against a tree in quite a while."

And Sam laughs out loud. Shit, it's good to be alive.

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~The End ~