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It had been only a few months, Sam thought to himself, as they drove down the road to their latest hunt. Only a few months since he came back to this wretched life, and yet he felt an underlying warmth at being beside his brother again.
He glanced towards the drivers seat where Dean was sprawled out leisurely, one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the window, occasionally tapping along to Led Zeppelin. He was the only thing he had truly missed about his old life, yet looking at him now he still couldn't help but compare the way they had turned out.
Dean Winchester's life had always revolved around family. That was something anyone who knew him could tell. His Dad and brother were his everything, and the memory of his mother was his everything too.
Sam could not say the same for himself, his outlook was always much more bleak. He had no warm memories of a loving mother holding him and rocking him to sleep, no recollection of family dinners or playing catch. Even his father, whom he still had, was no dad. Unlike Dean, he didn't remember a time where he was kind, when he would come home from work and kiss them both on the head. The only version of John Winchester he knew was the soldier, and worse, the general, who expected him to follow his every lead.
He sighed, trying to turn his focus back on the blurred sights they were passing. It wasn't that he didn't love his father, he knew that he was cared for (even if he bitterly wished John knew how to care without a gun in his hand) and he knew he was loved, but he never felt that belonging and loyalty his brother did. Not to his dad at least.
Dean's life had quickly become one of unthinking obedience and stubborn affection. No matter the training, the pain, the hunts, he always remained loyal to John. He always understood him, in a way his younger brother never could. He remembered the loss, he knew what they were fighting for and what family meant. They always had that bond that Sam could never truly connect to.
Looking at him now he could see that underlying worry in the way he held himself, dad may have deliberately cut them loose, but that didn't stop the eldest from worrying about him. His jaw was shut tight, occasionally twitching from how hard he was tensing as he sat there. The casual way he held the rest of his body would of been enough to fool anyone else.
This situation must be different for him. Dean could still see him, this dad he supposedly once was, and that spurred him on. He could see comfort in his icy exterior as he knew what to look for. Sometimes it felt as though Dean were his only son, and Sam was just the stray soldier they let tag along in hopes that maybe one day he will be useful.
For the youngest, when John was around it didn't really feel like a happy family, it barely felt like home.
To Sam, family had always been more of a competition. At first, to keep up with Dean. He never wanted to be better than his big brother, he looked up to him in every way, he wasn't even sure anyone could be better in his eyes. No, he just wanted to be equal in the eyes of their father.
Never getting to go on hunts, constantly being babied and looked after, it drove him crazy. It's like they didn't trust him! Dean, he knew was practically hard wired to care for him, he couldn't really stay mad at him because he knew it was out of love. His father, however? There was something about the way he treated him that made him feel… different, like he wasn't sure Sam was someone who could be left on his own.
Even now, as he sat reminiscing he felt his old frustrations come back to haunt him. They never truly left, only growing over the years till he couldn't stand to be in the same room as the man, hell he couldn't bare to stay in the same state by the end. He sighed, a headache forming as he though back on his childhood.
John rarely looked at him with love, but with worry- sometimes even when Sam couldn't figure out what he'd possibly done to warrant such a reaction. He knew they fought, he couldn't help it! It was so easy to be mad at him, for the way they were raised, for the sleepless nights worrying his big brother won't come home, for being so lonely, for never being normal.
Another part of him had just wanted approval, to at least not be a burden! He huffed again, sinking down into his seat and ignoring the quirked eyebrow his brother send his way.
Somewhere along the lines, as he matured and stopped thinking like a little kid, his frustrations out weighed his need for approval. His focus had shifted to Dean, the real man who raised him, the big brother who always made sure he was safe and fed even when their father was miles away and refusing to answer the damn phone- some things never change.
And now, Sam couldn't help but wonder if his love would always be tainted with rage, as his frustrations shifted too. Why would Dean never take his side? Always so focused on "keeping the peace" but letting John walk all over them both! Why couldn't Dean just choose him for once?
Those guilty thoughts had consumed him on the night he left for Stanford, too. He had asked Dean to leave with him, to give up everything he ever knew, so Sam could be selfish. It wasn't fair to ask, his brother was a hunter through and through, not just because John told him so, but because that's just who he was, who he wanted to be to avenge the mother Sam couldn't even picture. Asking him to give that up was cruel, shifting the choice to Dean like he wasn't the one leaving him behind.
A small part of him had hoped that maybe now he would choose him, would finally stand up to his dad and stay with him. It had always been a dream, too good to be true, but it didn't make it sting any less.
There as he left, door slammed behind him with the threat that he should stay away, the threat that Dean had stayed silent to, he felt like he'd lost.
Dean was John Winchesters', and that was never going to change. Even now, Sam was only here because John wasn't, he was the backup, the second choice. Unconsciously, a frown had spread across his face, deepening into a scowl as he thought of the years he'd missed.
Dean had been hunting on his own, clearly quite frequently given the casual way his brother had told him, having the cheek to argue he's twenty six now.
It had been four years since they last saw each other face to face, two since they had spoken at all. He had thought he had lost him to their dad that day, but the knowledge that John hadn't even stayed by his side, had just dumped him like he always used to, filled Sam with that oh so familiar rage.
He had tried not to show it, as they left for Jericho, on a hunt the eldest thought his little brother was on to help him find their dad. He was only there because it was Dean asking, Dean on his own, Dean wanting him.
Sam would never have let him leave on his own, even with the knowledge he's risking the life he built in doing so. He had always known, if Dean had needed him, or even wanted him, so badly that he was willing to show up at Stanford, he was always going to leave with him- because he wouldn't abandon what's his.
Since he had joined Dean for good, his anger was only worsening. Sam had been angry about a lot of things since he left California.
He was angry that something killed Jess, that he wasn't even there, that he hadn't warned her somehow.
He was angry that they were still looking for their father who clearly didn't want to be found, that the man had ditched Dean in the first place. The man who did nothing but preach the importance of family, yet he was nowhere to be found and Dean was still looking!
His nightmares were back, images of Jess on the ceiling overlapping with endless images of ways he could of lost his brother whilst he was gone.
"Dude, what is your problem?" his brother finally spoke up as they sailed down the open road, snapping Sam out of his thoughts hard enough to realise he had been glaring right at his brother. "I am used to you acting pissy but the hell did I do to deserve that look!?"
Dean kept glancing at him, eyes dancing between the road and Sam's face as he quickly shook his head, "No, it isn't you Dean. It's just-" he cut himself off, willing himself to look back out at the road instead, "It's nothing,"
He heard his brother sigh, "I call bullshit," he replied, "I haven't seen you this pissed off since your last argument with dad, what? Four years ago!".
That was all it took for the car to fall into a tense silence, Dean having turned the music off before confronting him. This is what they'd been avoiding talking about, tip toeing around the subject of anything before Stanford, anything that reminded them of their time apart and how they left things.
After a moment Sam spoke up again, softly, like admitting a dark secret, "Well maybe that's exactly what I'm so angry about,"
For a moment, it felt like he was a kid again, watching Dean take his dads ' side time and time again no matter what. Being back on the road again, chasing after their dad like that would fix anything, brought back all the rage he had hoped to lose in California.
He heard Dean tense beside him, his voice raising in that defensive manner he always did when Sam dared to question Johns' parenting choices, "What? Dad? He's not even here-"
"EXACTLY!," Sam snapped, "And you're looking for him, following his orders, working his cases! Cause you're such a good little soldier! But he's not here! He-", a shaky breath interrupted him, tears threatening to spill, "He left you. He didn't know you would come and get me, that I'd join you. He left you alone, to hunt."
The car suddenly lurched to the side, Dean furiously turning the wheel before breaking harshly on the side of the road, yelling in return, "Hunting is what we do! I'm older than you for fucks sake, what are you so worried about?," He slammed his hands against the wheel, "You weren't worried when you left!"
"I never wanted to leave!," Sam cried out, "Not you! I would of taken you with me, if I could, but you chose dad. Of course you chose dad! And I accepted that because you love him, and I thought you would at least have him!"
For a moment, Dean's anger seemed to dissipate, he turned his body fully to his baby brother, voice dropping to a whisper, "Sam, what?".
He wasn't done though, all the years of anger and desperation finally spilling out as he continued to yell,
"All this time, I thought you were hunting together. That he had your back, that if something happened to you, he would be there! But he wasn't! You could of died! And I wouldn't of known 'till it was too late. I would never have left you if I knew you'd be alone. And I don't get how dad could! You always defend him and says he loves us but clearly he doesn't love you like I do cause he's not here!"
Dean's jaw was set, his back straight, repeating the words Sam knew all too well, "He had good reason to leave, he wouldn't of done it otherwise.", he responded like it had been rehearsed and Sam felt his temper grow tenfold.
"Oh like all the other times!" He shouted, "Like when he left us for two whole months with only enough money for two weeks!" He never found out how Dean made enough to look after them, and a part of him didn't want to. He continued, "Like when you got ill and I tried to call him cause I didn't know what to do and he didn't even pick up!" The examples piled up in his mind as he finally asked the question he'd been lamenting over for most his life,
" How could you pick him over me? Why can't you love me as much as I love you!"
"Really, Sam? Then tell me how damn much you love me!", his brother yelled out in response.
And that was the question, wasn't it? No answer would ever be good enough, would ever explain the longing and obsession that has built over the years, no answer in words at least. So Sam tried something else, and let his lips crash into Deans.
The kiss wasn't soft or loving, no, he poured everything into it, desperately trying to get his big brother to understand everything. His lips fell open in shock and Sam greedily moved in to taste all he could. He tasted of the coffee he had finished off two stops back, and Sam silently wondered if he tasted the same.
Relief washed over him as he felt the hesitant movement in return and he allowed want to consume him. Deans lips were rough against his, fighting for dominance as their tongues explored each others mouths. Sam let himself push in closer, rearranging his legs to kneel on the seat sideways, body pressed towards his brother.
Dean's strong arms wrapped around him, manoeuvring him till he sat straddling his thighs, large hands holding onto his waist. In this new position, Sam let himself slowly grind up against his brother once, testing the waters as denim his denim and grinning victoriously as he earned a groan in response.
His grip tightened, pulling his baby brothers hips down on him again, and Sam happily let himself be led, already half hard in his pants. They broke apart in short moments, taking in quick breaths before going back for more, as if they were afraid if they stopped for too long the spell will break.
For a time, it felt like everything was endless, as they let themselves get lost completely in the desperation. Eventually, Dean pulled back, chuckling as Sam's mouth tried to follow, "Is this really how much you love me, baby boy?" He whispered, voice strained yet sturdy as he looked deep in his brothers eyes.
A deep flush spread over him at the name and he pushed himself off, pawing at his brothers zipper as he went, "Please, Dean, let me show you," He replied deliberately, looking up at him as he laid his body down against the seat and let his head sit on the older mans' thigh. He caught on at once, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down just enough for the the full sight of his boxers, a small wet patch already forming.
Sam wasted no time, leaning forward to mouth at the bulge visible through the fabric, letting his hot breath spread across his length and gleefully pressing his lips where he knew the tip sat as his brother let out a long groan.
"Jesus, Sammy.."
He let himself feel around for a bit longer, enjoying the occasional twitch round his lips and the strong musk that was beginning to overwhelm his senses- the smell of dean. Then, he felt a gentle tug on his hair as he was forced to look up at Dean's face and the sight was downright lewd. His mouth was open just a bit, and his eyes were blown wide, "Sam," He growled, tightening his grip ever so so slightly before letting go again, instructions clear.
The youngest immediately spurred back into action, tugging at the band of his brothers pants as he lifted his ass enough to allow them to slide down, Dean's full length springing free. Sam's mouth watered, allowing himself to take in the sight before him. His cock was large and girthy, pre-cum already coating the tip.
Slowly, he lent in, taking his time as he pressed light kisses all the way from the base to the tip, giving the slit a small lick before looking up again at his big brother. Who looked absolutely starving, gazing down at him with a hunger he had never seen before. His fingers curled back around his hair, squeezing just hard enough to make Sam wince, before guiding his head back down towards his shaft.
Sam opened up happily, lips already wet with saliva as he hollowed out his mouth as best he could and moved. Dean set the pace, moving his head back and forth, making him take it all, and though he gagged a couple times at first, they soon had a rhythm going.
He tasted salty, and Sam made it his mission to lap up as much as he could, twisting his tongue around the hard length and sucking just the right amount. He was in bliss, so proud of himself for making his brother feel so good, as he groaned and bucked at the sensations he was causing.
His own erection was left neglected, leaking as he found lost himself to lust, humping the seat below him to try and get off, unwilling to move any further and risk letting go of his brother, hands gripping at his thighs to hold him up. Dean's pace quickened and Sam let himself moan and dribble, uncaring for the mess he was making as his brother started to gasp at the vibrations.
Suddenly, the hand pulled him back, an involuntary whine leaving him as he lost the warm sensation in his mouth. A string of saliva followed, connected to his wet, swollen lips that hung open still.
Slowly his brother pushed him back, one hand reaching for his buckle as they went, Sam ending up pinned down as he laid across the front seat, head propped up slightly against the passenger side door. Dean towered over him, knee between his legs and pushing just enough pressure on Sam's erection that a small whine escaped his throat.
What followed was desperate and rough, Dean practically tearing his baby brothers clothes off as he flipped him, holding his thighs tight as he backed up himself, giving him the perfect view of his arched back and ass. Sam was unconsciously lifting his ass up towards him, desperate for his touch already, and so he wasted no time.
He opened his brother up quickly, relishing in the harsh gasps and moans spilling out his mouth as he fingered him desperately, impatient and uncaring that their only lube was spit and the guarantee that Sam would ache in the morning. They needed this. Now.
Sam was certainly not complaining, interrupting his own cries with pleas of Dean's name and desperate want, begging for him to take him already and make him his, and as he dutifully kept adding fingers, the babbles only grew louder, his voice straining and spurring the eldest on.
This was all he ever wanted, to be needed, to be chosen by his big brother. And as Sam finally felt his brothers length push deep inside him, a smug part of him knew that he finally won. He had Dean in a way John never will.