Archive of Our Own

Sam.

Warmth. Brown hair. Hazel eyes. Tanned skin. Bookish. Smart. Annoying-pain-in-the-ass-bane-of-Dean's-life.

These were just some of the things Dean loved about him.

It was no surprise to anybody the day that Dean presented as an Alpha. Dean might not be as head-strong as his father or brother, but that was because he was a better listener, and better listeners tended to make better leaders. Dean was 14 and an Alpha, his own father had presented at 13, though John had been under more pressure to present what with his deadbeat father leaving their family when John was only 10. Still, in his never-ending quest to live up to his father, the most badass man alive, Dean felt a bit off-put that he'd hit puberty so late.

"Dean... can I stay up late tonight? Please? The Superbowl's on." Sam begged. Of course Sammy wanted to watch the Superbowl. If Dean didn't know any better, he'd think Sam had a crush on Troy Aikman. Dean thought the guy was a spoof, and had been ecstatic when they'd lost in the second round the previous year, much to both Sam and John's dismay.

OK, so maybe he was jealous. Sue him. He'd dedicated his entire life to looking after Sam, had given the boy everything he had after their mother's death. If Sam should be hero-worshipping anyone- and yes, Dean meant anyone- it ought to be Dean, not some upstart with big muscles and a stupid face with a stupid smile. He shook his head. Sam'd learn to appreciate him, kids always came around.

Dean had allowed Sam to stay up, generous older brother that he was, had even got him a Coke to watch the game with (which was no fun now that they'd removed cocaine from it. Dean sometimes fantasized about breaking free of their father for a night or two, when him and Sam were older, so that he could try out some drugs with his little brother. It'd be just like the movies he liked to watch so). Heck, Dean'd gone a step further even- he watched it with Sam, sacrificing a night of guaranteed tail (Hello, Tracie Tang) to spend time with a ten year old. Now that was love, that was dedication, and Dean was willing to bet the likes of Troy Aikman would never do such a thing for Sam- or for anyone, for that matter. 

Naturally, despite Dean's magnanimity, Sam fell asleep. Of course he did. It started off innocently enough. Sam had began to slouch and lean a bit, further and more into Dean's space. When Dean had asked Sam if he wanted to go to bed, the stubborn pre-teen had shaken his head. Brat. Dean wound up with a lapful of pure-brown-mop. Really though, he ought to consider punishing Sam by cutting all of his hair off and using it as a mop. Did Sam know how hard Dean'd worked to smuggle the Coke out of the convenience store five blocks down? Did Sam even care?

Whatever, Dean continued to watch, glaring at the T.V. Fuck Sam, what was the point in making time for him if he wasn't even going to stay awake for it? God, Sam was such a baby! His hand found Sam's hair, fingers running through it... Giant baby... Sammy... chubby baby... Dean's baby... OK, maybe he was being a bit unfair. The kid was 10. Sure, when Dean was 10 he'd run his first hunt with John. Father and son time while Sam was camped up with Uncle Bobby. John had always been paranoid that if something ever happened when he was hunting, his sons should be able to protect themselves. And by sons, what he generally meant was that Dean ought to be able to take care of himself and Sam. John treated Sam like he was made of glass, Dean had no idea why.

Dean knew why he treated Sam like that. Sam was the most precious thing in the world to him. Even before their mother's death, Sam was his. 

Sam would always be his.

When they were in their fifties, sixties... he didn't dare hold out hope for seventy. He didn't know a single hunter that old. But here? Now? This? Him and Sam, forever.

Always.

Just the two of them...

The hairs on the back of Dean's neck raised, his body sweating just a little. Guilt.

Just the two of them...

.

Sam leaving had devastated them.

When Mary had died, Dean had sensed something was wrong, sure. But kids didn't really understand what death was till they were 5, so while he knew she wasn't coming back he hadn't quite understood it. Knowing you did with your mind, understanding came from the heart. Dean'd been able to comfort John, be there for him while he drunk himself to near death, waking up from nightmares screaming 'Don't touch him, don't touch him!' He'd been there for Sam too, Sam's bottle in hand at all times, running whenever his little baby cried for him. In many ways, Dean'd become the house Omega once they'd lost theirs. In reality? There was nothing more Alpha than being the backbone of a family.

He hoped he'd made his mom proud, that she could see him.

Now though? This was a thousand times worse.

"I bet mom'd be real proud of the way you raised us! Have you even thought about what'll happen when you finally get your revenge? Dean'll be destitute, I could be dead! You only care about yourself!"

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean had barked.

"Oh fuck off, Dean! I'm the Omega in this house, you don't need to be dad's bitch all the time!"

"You think you're so high and mighty- you're just a coward! You've never had the stomach for this life, never been able to put anyone else before yourself!" Dean had had no idea how the fight had shifted from Sam vs John to Sam vs Dean, but it did. It did. God Sam was so right about him being their father's lap-dog. God if he'd just shut up, just let Sam yell... "Get out- just get out already!"

Ohhh and that look. Dean took another swig of whiskey.

It was like having your soul sucked out. Having Sam gone was like having his soul sucked out. Sammy... he shut his eyes, doing his best to hold back tears. He was a Winchester. He didn't cry, he drank. God... Sam'd looked like Dean'd just run him over with the Impala.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And that had been that. Dean hadn't seen him in four months. John'd told Sam to stay gone, and Dean'd all but shut the door behind him.

John wasn't much better. Dean wasn't stupid. He might have been John's right hand, his hunting buddy, his faithful companion, fellow Alpha, the one he spent the most time with... but Sam owned John's heart. And you know what? Dean didn't care. Honest. You wanna know why?

Because Sam owned Dean's heart too.

And believe Dean, it was in a much more fucked up way.

.

Cassie had been an old flame. She was bright, and smart, and vivacious. Headstrong, true to her word, a realist, but also kind, gentle, warm, dark hair, beautiful eyes... okay, so he clearly had a type, sue him. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't be with her. He knew it deep down... and he thought, maybe, that she saw it in him too. Saw the way he glanced at Sam a little too long sometimes, like in ways that couldn't be explained away by Dean being happy to have Sam back, joyful older brother that he was... more in ways that would get him labelled a 'brother fucker' in different towns.

Sam had been... different. Ever since their reunion. To be quite honest, Dean had been expecting some changes in his brother's personality. Dean'd slept with plenty of co-eds, he knew their type. To be quite honest, he'd been glad his stick-in-the-mud younger brother hadn't changed all that much. Solid, steady girlfriend to keep him company, and Dean swore he wasn't just happy because he knew female Alphas had smaller dicks and he knew there was no way her knot could have kept Sam satisfied.

So he figured that while taking Sam out to bars to get over Jess probably wasn't the smartest move, it was at least a step in the right direction. After all, who knew when Sam'd have his next heat? They were pretty unpredictable, and Dean didn't even know if Sam took suppressants (probably not, those things were damn expensive- $5 a pill? Jesus, who owned the patent to those- the insulin mafia?). It wasn't like Dean could help him through them- he'd never do that to Sam. Never do it to his little brother.

A cute brunette chick flirted with Dean while he hustled pool. Dean'd largely left Sam out of their hustling operations. Jess's death was still fresh, and Dean remembered how much Sam'd always hated it. 'Honest work', Dean? Or 'Working', honest? Shut up, Sam.

The girl was busty, her shirt hanging low. Mmm, Dean liked a girl who knew what she wanted. He let her press up against him, eagerly anticipating the night he'd be having. He should tell Sam, he figured, give him the keys to the Impala so he could get back safe. Dean'd catch a bus from wherever in the morning.

But when Dean looked up, Sam was already on the move. He was walking over to the bathroom, not too far behind a skeezy looking dude in a leather jacket. Dean frowned. Something didn't feel right about it hypocrite.

He sunk the last ball in, collected the cash, and immediately made a beeline to the bathroom, blowing off his easy-lay in favour of checking out whatever Sam was getting into. After all, Sam'd just lost Jess, his long-time girlfriend, not even a year ago. The poor kid was still heart-broken! Dean had to make sure he wasn't being taken advantage of in there despite that he had an easy six inches on the guy he'd just followed, it was the responsible thing to do as a big brother.

Dean didn't see a man getting deepthroated by Sam. Oh no. Quite the contrary, Dean never actually witnessed it. His eyes were too clouded in red. Pure, unadulterated jealousy coursed through his veins, a mess of black goo clogging up his arteries at the scent of Sam's arousal. Sam's mine! Dean swung at the man before he could stop himself, and after that he couldn't lose face. No, he had to keep going. Nobody would remember them in this miserable pot-bellied town anyways.

“We’re leaving.” Dean said, dragging Sam out of the bar by his shirt's collar as the owner of the establishment shouted that they’d never be allowed back and that they ought to stay gone. Sam was still fully dressed, thank God! 

The fumble for his keys was an awkward affair, he'd all but thrown Sam across the car to get him to the other side, to the passenger door. Sam was terrified, Dean could smell it on him, but in that moment he didn't care. Didn't care how irrational it was that he would be so upset at Sam getting laid when he was his brother, not his lover.

“What the HELL did you think you were doing?” Dean roared, voice barely audible over the sound of the car's engine. He was too angry to focus on the road, and in hindsight that was a recipe for disaster, especially given how hard he'd slammed down on the accelerator. 

“Making some extra cash.” Dean didn't think it was possible for him to get more angry. Of all the stupid shit Sam had pulled over the years- prostitution? And Sam had the cheek to lecture Dean about gambling!?

“Mon- DO YOU HAVE *ANY* IDEA HOW DANGEROUS IT IS TO HAVE YOUR THROAT KNOTTED?” They were going faster. Belatedly, Dean thought about reaching for the brakes, but he was so angry he couldn't even remember what pedal that was.

“No, no. Dean, please stop.” Sam started crying, fear oozing off of him. Dean could sense a lot of things off of Sam... a wave of guilt crashed over him. His mouth tightened. What was he doing? Here, lecturing Sam about safety when he was the one currently endangering him... trying to justify his actions as him being a protective older brother- which he was- and yet Sam was the one he was scared of here? Dean let out a sigh and kept his eyes on the road. He was not their dad. He was not their dad. He was not their dad.

And, hell, he wasn't the guy who'd told Sam to go ahead and get out three-and-a-half years ago either.

When they got to the motel, he apologised to Sam. “I’m sorry, I was just worried about your safety. And besides, you weren’t even using a condom. He could’ve given you something.”

“It was oral sex.” Idiot. Maybe Dean did have a right to worry about Sam's sex life. From a brotherly perspective, that was.

“You can still catch STIs from that. And hey, next time you need money, just come and ask me.” Seriously though, how'd his little brother get a full ride to Stanford with that kind of naïveté? "Get some sleep, Sunshine. And don't be so stupid when you hook up with strangers. The world isn't kind to Omegas." Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Dean.

.

If losing Sam to Stanford was like having his soul sucked out, then having Sam die in his arms was like having a Blood Eagle ritual performed on it in-house. Dean couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't blink. He hadn't shaved in three days.

"Dean!" Sam'd panted out, exhausted from his ordeal at the Yellow Eyed Demon's Freak-Camp.

Why hadn't Dean just shut the hell up? Why hadn't he reminded Sam not to turn his back on an enemy? Why had he been so selfish about seeing Sam that he'd forced acknowledgement rather than awareness from him in that moment?

And why hadn't Jake killed him too?

His fault. This whole thing was his fault. If Dean hadn't come for Sam at Stanford- if he'd been man enough to face Dad's disappearance alone- none of this would have happened. Sam'd be alive, he'd be with Jess, he'd be in his second year of Law School- God. Good God. Dean was so selfish. All Sam had ever wanted was a normal life. Sam'd gone and done the legwork to get one, and Dean'd just come up and dragged him right back into the shit show that was the life. Dean had always known his fate would be made at the hands of a monster... and now he'd gifted that fate right back to Sammy too. When he'd gone to pick his brother up from Stanford, he'd been afraid at first. Scared that Sam would tell him to 'get lost,' or 'get dead,' and honestly? Dean wished he would have.

Sam. Who'd been scared of the 'monster under his bed' till he was twelve, both before and after he knew about real monsters.

Sam. Who ate Lucky Charms for most of his life because they couldn't afford anything else, and always gave Dean the prize.

Sam. Who always double-knotted his shoelaces because he was such a little boyscout.

Sam. Who'd run away from home multiple times because their life was driving him insane.

Sam. Who'd jumped off Bobby's shed with him and broke his arm.

Sam. Who had the answer to every question tucked between those two precious ears of his, safe-guarded by that cushion of brown fur he called hair.

Sammy.

"What am I supposed to do, huh, Sammy?" Dean's voice caught in his throat. If there was ever a proof that there was no God- gaaargh "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!?"

.

Dean'd done what Dean'd always done. He'd put himself first.

It had hurt like hell knowing his dad was in the pit 'cuz of him. And now he'd gone and gifted that emotion to Sam.

Oh but it was worth it. It was oh so worth it. Sammy- his Sammy, regardless of what the demons said. They were demons, their only desire was to confuse and torture people.

And now they were working a case in Florida. Minor case, sure, mostly just so they could tick off the Turducken sandwich from Dean's bucket list. Dean was scared of Hell, who wouldn't be? But he had every intention of enjoying his time with Sam. Sammy. His Sammy.

He was going to Hell anyways... it couldn't hurt- except that yes it could hurt. It could hurt Sam. It would confuse the poor kid, and worse it could send him to Hell too. Dean'd taken too much already from his brother, he wasn't going to be taking away his sinless record.

Dean's day on the beach was a good one. Hot babes playing volleyball, some of them topless. A girl winked at him, but he had to decline unfortunately: he'd forgotten his sunscreen and the heat was starting to get to him.

Dean walked back into the hotel room, surprised to see Sam back from his 'urgent business' so soon. Oh well, good, Dean was beat. Dean flopped down on his bed.

“Sammy! Can you get me the after-sun cream? It’s in my duffel!” 

Sam nodded and walked over to Dean's duffel over on the floor. He bent down, shirt riding up and pants riding down. Dean allowed himself a little peak at Sam's, knowing it was wrong- fuck, were those panties? Dean shifted his legs slightly to hide his erection, grateful not for the first time that it was Alphas who could smell arousal, not Omegas. He set aside the jealous part of his brain wondering whom Sam'd been wearing them for ('urgent business' Dean's ass) in favour of watching the hypnotising black fabric spread itself across Sam's skin. Oh well, ogling his brother would only count on Dean's record not, surely. Sam was taking a while to locate the bottle, not that Dean minded, watching the way the thin fabric stood against Sam's surprising pale behind. God the things Dean wanted to do to those flimsy strings, pull them apart with his teeth while Sam mewled, head by Dean's cock, mouthing at it, slicking it up for the main event-

"“Which pocket?” Sam's voice called out. Dean rolled his eyes because he'd kept it in the same pocket ever since Sam got sunburnt in Hawaii when he was four.

“First one.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top.”

“Want me to rub it on you?” Like over the burnt parts or over the burning part?

“Nah, nah, I’ll be fine.” Again, he didn't want to see Sam in Hell, he wasn't some sadist.

“Alright, well, I’m just gonna grab us some dinner. Anything you want?” How about a taste of that slick I can smell cooling against your thighs?

“More Turducken!” Dean said, extra cheer thrown in just to throw Sam off.

Maybe he'd been destined for Hell anyways.

.

After dinner, Dean went to take a shower, skin still sensitive from the sun. It had taken Sam two hours to bring back the Turducken. The shop was a two minute walk from their room. He was trying not to think about it... but he was also Dean Winchester.

Dean walked out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, showing off his beyond desirable body like a peacock, and spotted the panties Sam was about to return to his duffel. OK. Dean could play it cool. He was Sam's older brother, not Sam's lover. It wasn't his business what kind of likely-pedophile-pervs Sam was hooking up with that wanted him to wear lingerie under his clothes and fucked him inside of Sandwich shops. “Nice panties, Samantha." Sam blushed as his brother whistled. Dean added, "Don’t wear 'em too often though, they can cut circulation to your balls.”

“They’re for male omegas, they should be fine.” Oh, so a prepared likely-pedo-perv hooked Sammy up with these? What, couldn't bag a fellow eighty-year-old to fuck?

“That’s what they all say. Now turn the TV on, it’s Dr. Sexy time.”

.

The night he died, Sam kissed him.

He thinks his soul died long before his body hit the ground.

.

His time in Hell hadn't been kind to say the least. He'd felt his soul shifting, felt himself turning into- turning into one of them, and the idea that God not only existed but felt like Dean deserved to be saved, that he was a leader, that he deserved protecting.

It was all so much.

Dean'd always felt like an outcast. Ever since his mother died he'd been fending for himself, and for Sam, and for John, to a lesser extent. He'd been the task manager, the home maker, won a heck of a lot of bread, kept Sam fed, followed his father's orders, done so many things that should've gotten him thrown in jail for years to come.

But God loved him?

Dean'd never felt loved. Sure, his dad cared about him, but not in the same way he cared about Sam. And sure Sam admired him, but it wasn't love, was it? It couldn't be love.

The only person who'd ever really loved him, after his mother's death, had been Bobby- and Bobby didn't hold nearly as much mojo as God did.

Dean felt powerful. It was- it was such an important feeling, a good one. After all that shit in the pit. Turned out he hadn't been destined for Hell his entire life, no.

God wanted him to lead. 

And Sam- Sam'd always been jealous of Dean. Jealous that Dean got all the tail, that he was a better hunter than him, that he spent more time with Dad even though Sam clearly had no idea what that entailed, that Dean had more friends, etc. So naturally, Sam wasn't listening, wasn't falling in line just because the angels were trying to knock some sense into him that using his powers wasn't a good idea. And no, Dean wasn't mad just because Ruby was fucking his brother. In fact, if Dean were to be quite honest with himself, the imagery was... kinda hot.

And then Dean saw Sam drinking blood and it all made sense to him.

Their fight afterwards was a bit of a mess... Dean wasn't their father, that he could admit. Perhaps Bobby had been right in calling Dean, in warning him not to push Sam away... had that really been what this was? A dick measuring competition between the two brothers? Dean loved Sam more than anything in the world, they were brothers, more in Dean's lewdest of dreams.

Dean took a special pleasure in killing Ruby... but with Lucifer sprung free, after the mess that was late 2008 to early 2009... Dean couldn't trust Sam anymore.

Parting ways was the biggest relief to Dean since he'd made it up for air from his coffin.

.

This new apocalyptic world was insane. Croatoan? He'd thought he'd seen the last of that shit three years ago in Oregon, when Sam hadn't gotten infected and Dean'd called it a day on the matter.

You weren't with him. You weren't with him. You weren't with him. The thought kept bouncing around in Dean's head as not-Sammy spoke.

"You better kill me now. Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you. And I won't stop." Even if that meant killing Sam? His Sam? More-precious-to-him-than-the-sun-and-moon-combined Sam?

"See you in five years Dean." 

.

Dean wasn't even going to talk about Heaven. Fuck the Samulet. If Sam didn't want him around, that was fine. By. Him.

.

"What are you really afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?" Good question, Bobby. Dean took a sip from his ninth beer of the morning

"You weren't there." I'm so sorry Sammy.

"Yeah, okay. You're coming because I want you to see something. I want you to see our brother." Dean shuddered. He'd-he'd... sounded so... cold haha. Socold...so...

"Why would he do that?"

"Wish I knew." Bastard. "But now we don't have a choice. It's in him, and it's not getting out. And we've got to kill him, Dean."

"From what I understand, Sam didn't make it."

"You weren't there with him?"

"No. No, me and Sam, we haven't talked in—hell, five years." Bastard.

"We never tried to find him?"

"We had other people to worry about." Bastard. Bastard. Bastard. Bastard! Dean flung his bottle of beer across the room.

Losing Sam to Stanford was like having his soul sucked out. Sam dying- in his arms- was like having Blood Eagle performed on his soul. This? This was like having it waterboarded, but the water just never stopped coming and he felt like he was drowning and he couldn't breathe or anything, and he was completely immobilized, unable to stop it. Michael already had his vessel in Adam. All Dean could do was sit and wait for his brother to die. And you know what, Dean fucking deserved it.

He'd been the one to push Sam away. Before the demon blood, right after he'd sold his soul. He'd been so terrified, too terrified to see what it was doing to Sam. Sam who'd always needed a comfort-giver, Sam who was just sunshine and rainbows and purity. The brother he'd sold his soul to protect, to spend just one more year with. And then he'd come back- and God the thing with Ruby hadn't helped. The thought of her, helping Sam through his heats and holding him and being the one he listened to- how come a demon'd gotten to have that, to have Sam, and all he got were the bitchy bits. He'd been jealous! There, he said it! He hadn't been able to control himself after he'd found out they were sleeping together.

Everything he looked at reminded him of Hell when he'd gotten back, especially Sam's powers, and he'd used that as an excuse to hurt him but that was just because he'd wanted him so badly!

No wonder Sam's Heaven had no Dean in it. Dean didn't deserve Sam's love. Not after all of that.

"You can't do this to me. You think you're the only one white-knuckling it here?"

Their father had doggedly guarded Sam after he'd left for Stanford. Dean hadn't factored in the possibility that he'd been more worried about Hell's plans for Sam than he was about a werewolf, but he'd always remembered watching John and thinking: what's the matter with you? Just pick up a phone.

He wasn't John. He wasn't 2014 Dean either. He wasn't either of those sick bastards.

He was Dean.

And he was going to go and get his Sam.

.

The time with Lisa was quaint, but God was Dean happy to have Sam back.

He'd promised himself to do things differently this time. He'd almost lost Sam completely over his jealousy with Ruby. Now he'd be keeping a distance. He didn't want to poison Sam, pollute his brother over Dean's own perversions.

Naturally, because the universe hated him, Sam had no soul.

And was in pre-heat.

Great.

Dean was at a bar avoiding him. It was so creepy, seeing someone who was like Sam but also not 100% Sam at the same time... it reminded him of Lucifer, and honestly? He didn't act too different. Dean was flirting with the bartender. A brunet Omega with a Texan drawl who seemed pretty interested if the semi he was sporting was any indicator. Dean got a call on his cellphone. He'd instructed Sam to stay locked in the motel room. Soulless Sam didn't disobey Dean often (the one upside), so he'd agreed to it.

"Sam?"

“Dean. I’m in heat. Can you send over an Alpha?” Sam whined into the phone.

“What?” Dean spat out the beer he’d been drinking. 

“Heat, I’m in heat. Send over an Alpha.” Dean sighed. One night, just ONE night he needed. He shot an apologetic look over to the bartender. Not tonight, sorry.

“Stay where you are, I’m on my way.”

Dean arrived at the motel in minutes, his nose covered so he wouldn’t get swept away by the scent of fertile 28-year-old. It still didn’t erase the sight of his younger brother fingering himself... on Dean’s bed? Dean averted his gaze. What was Soulless Sam getting at here?

“Alright. I’m gonna lock all the doors for you, and I’ll send food in through the bathroom window- which I’m leaving open. I’m pretty sure souled-up-Sam kept a dildo in his duffel or something.”

“No dildo. Always had Alphas.” Sam panted, his hands moving inside of him. Fuck, that was not something that Dean was in the mood to be thinking about right now. As if he wasn't already pissed enough.

“What?” 

“Amy, Jess, Madison, Ruby.” Dean’s Alpha growled at two of the names on that list, it would have been three but he didn’t know who Amy was yet. “My prom date when I was younger- did you know she was a demon?”

“No, Sam. I did not.” Though to be fair, it did seem to line up with Sam’s choice in bedmates. “Alright. I’ll find you a dildo or something somewhere.”

“Why can’t you just do it?”

“Do what?”

“Fuck me?”

Dean did a double take. What the hell? “Dude, are you out of your mind?” Dean's anger was mounting. Who was this soulless-monster inhabiting Sam's body using his younger brother against him? Just to get him to- what? Be a service top? Taint his body so Sam's soul wouldn't want to come back?

“No. Arguably I’m more in control of it now because I don’t have any pesky emotions interfering with my thought process.”

“I meant are you crazy ?”

“No. I just want a knot.” Sam said it as though it was the simplest thing in the world and not every single one of Dean’s worst nightmares come to life. Let's send Sam to Hell while his soul's still there- classic, huh?

“We’re brothers, Sam.”

“So?”

“So we can’t fuck. It’d ruin everything!” Good God was Sam not hearing himself? Even soulless his words should register wrong! Sam still had his prefrontal cortex!

“Why? You could just pin it down to me being soulless and I could just blame it on my heat.”

“AND you’re in heat! That’s not consensual!”

“I’ve wanted it before, when I wasn’t in heat.”

Dean stopped cold. “What?”

“I’ve wanted it before, when I wasn’t in heat.” Sam said it slower this time as though that were the problem.

“Wh-” And look. It wasn't like Dean hadn't had a hunch that Sam might... feel the same way about him, about this... but there was a whole chasm of wrong between feel-a-certain-way and act-on-it. It was why Dean'd lied to Sam when he was younger about Alphas not being able to scent Omega slick, after all. It was better this way for the both of them.

“Remember when I kissed you? Before you went to Hell.” God damn did he.

“You were just scared you were going to lose me.” Dean tried for an excuse. Plush lips, soft, cool against his.

“Yeah, Dean, you don’t usually make out with your brother just because he’s going to Hell anyways.” Sam drawled. Dean wanted to look Sam in the face and read his expression, but he kept his head bowed so he wouldn’t see what laid before him. Wasn't sure he'd be strong enough given the permission. “He’s wanted you since he was a kid, you know. Hungered after you. His first orgasm was thinking of you knotting him somewhere far from dad. He blew that dude in Mississippi because he wanted you to get mad, wanted you to claim him on the spot once you found out your brother was selling himself.” No...this-this wasn't Sam. This soulless bastard was the same guy who'd let Dean get turned into a vampire for Christ's sake! Sam couldn't really have thought about them being together. That was taking it a step too far. Nice try, you dick, none of Sam's fantasies contained Dean. He'd witnessed as much in Heaven!

“Shut up.” Dean growled, low. “You’ve no right to talk about my brother.”

“And then there was that time he bought those panties because he thought you’d be into them. He was sad when you told him not to wear them too often, so he threw them away. He thought of you, when he was with Madison and Ruby he was thinking of you.” Shut up, shut up, shut up!

“No.” Dean didn’t care about decency right now. Now he was mad. He looked up, not paying too much attention the sight of spread out, slick Omega in front of him. “No he wasn’t. My brother is NORMAL, not a brother-fucker. You’re just being manipulative piece of shit because you want to get laid, it isn’t happening.”

“‘Brother-fucker.’ Yeah, he was worried you’d see it that way. He ran off to Stanford to try stay clean from you, you know. AFTER he cut off Mindy Steifneld’s hair when you two hooked up for the sum- well okay, bye then Dean.” Sam called after the closed door.

Dean really needed to find Sam's soul.

It was high time.

But first he was going back to the bar and banging that cute Omega.

(Then he was buying Sam a dildo, because soulless or not, nobody was knotting Sam during his heat).

.

Purgatory was a place of purity. Dhean pitied himself for only realising this after he'd sprung free.

Himself.

No help from that useless brother of his.

If ever he'd needed confirmation that Sam didn't really love him, or want this damned life, then there it was. Sam wasn't a hunter, he was just too weak to say 'no.' Well fine then, Dean'd give that to him the minute they closed the Gates of Hell.

It was fine though, really. Benny was an Omega, not that it mattered. He was a warrior, like Dean, and fuck was he good in bed. Why have what would have undoubtedly been a pillow-princess moment with Sam when he could have exciting, breathtaking, white-out sex with Benny? He'd never had a dick in him before, and he'd never known how bad he'd needed one! To be pinned down, or to do the pinning, grabbing at Benny's throat so the vamp couldn't breathe. All the while ignoring that that was probably, in fact, how Sam was currently doing it with Amelia... thanks to that fake text he'd sent him.

Amelia, what kind of a shit name was that? What kind of bitch cheated on her husband? And what kind of filthy Omega was Sam for playing Mister to a married woman?

“You save a vampire by making me believe that the woman I love might be dead?” Yeah, well fuck you too, Sam.

And then they'd met Henry and now they lived in a bunker. Dean'd contemplated sneaking Benny in. They'd parted ways thanks to Sam, but honestly? He felt like he could swing it in. 

Dean walked back into the bunker, 3 cases of beer in his arms. Strong Alpha totally not trying to show off to Sam. 

Now here's the thing: Alphas got to smell Omega Slick. They also got to smell Omega Heat. They got to sense Omega emotions. They did not get to smell Omega Pre-Heat though, only to experience changes in their mood till it arrived. In hindsight, this would explain why Dean'd been doing so much handy-work the past few weeks. Dean sucked in a deep gulp of air, dick hardening, as he covered his nose with his t-shirt. The Trials had begun and Sam had begun his heat, Dean was just going to check up on Sam and see if he needed water or something.

“Dean...” Sam's voice called out for him, soft. Good God. Dean shut his eyes, forcing out images of Sam panting, legs wrapped around Dean's waist as he drove into him. Knot catching. Pups forming... When he felt like he could be trusted, he opened the door, slow so as not to startle Sam, but also to give Sam time to get decent.

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice came out a bit more hoarse than he would have wanted. Sam was positioned on the bed, eyes closed, legs shaking. He must have already orgasmed. Sam opened his eyes and looked at his brother.

“Dean.” His voice croaked. His sheets were slick, and Dean's shirt wasn't doing much to help that scent. God it smelled so much better when Sam was in heat. Dean wanted to rip the bedsheets off and suck on them slowly for a good week or two... preferably while knotted in Sam. Or just, you know, drink it right from the source. God. Focus!

“Sammy, you okay in there?”

“No. I need a knot.” Don't tempt me. He pulled the puppy-eyes. “Dean, please. I need your knot.” Fuck, I said don't tempt me!

And here was the thing though- they were both consenting adults, right? Soulless Sam'd told him everything, and even after he'd gotten his memories back, Sam'd never attempted to set the record straight. He'd heard angels tell Sam not to drink demon blood or use his powers, but had never had an angel tell him that fucking Sam would endanger them all. And surely Crowley would be kind in Hell if he knew Dean was there for doing what Crowley so often joked he was already doing. Dean moved closer, his mind at war.

People used to breed with their siblings all the time, right? They were ideal angel vessels, their DNA was likely perfect, why couldn't Dean just have this?

Protect Sammy at all costs.

He couldn't do this. Not to his dad. Not to his mom. Not to Bobby. 

And least of all to Sam. Sam who was simply a slave of his biology, a slave of his biology, nearly prayed upon by his groomer protector. Dean sank into the bed.

It was time to end this once and for all.

Sam spread his legs, too far gone to sense Dean's distressed mood. Dean wrapped his arms around his naked brother. Sam whimpered into his touch and it broke his heart. Make it firm, make it good. I'm sorry, Dean. This is for the best and you know it. Dean pulled Sam close, into his chest, treasuring his scent, his warmth. Everything that was his delectable baby brother. Whom he'd conditioned into being just as perverted as Dean. Freak.

“Sammy... I love you. But not like that.” Dean could feel Sam still. He smelled... sad. Good, good. Dean held on strong, ignoring how his own heart cracked with every word. “Sammy I’m sorry. We can’t be like this. It’s not right.”

Sam didn't react. Just sat there silent.

And there was one more thing for Dean to do. To prove he stood by his words. Dean sent an Alpha over for him. Some nameless clown Sam tossed out the second his heat was over.

They didn’t speak about it again. Didn't have the time to. Sam nearly died under the Trials, and Dean'd never forgive himself for letting it get that far.

Would forgive himself even less for convincing Sam to say 'yes' to housing an angel he was unaware of, for letting it kill their friend, after knowing what Lucifer had done to Sam in the cage. After knowing why Sam couldn't trust any more angels around him.

Oh well, karma was a bitch, right? Dean thought about that frequently, whenever he showered and was faced with the damned mark on his arm.

And then poof.

He was dead.

.

Being a demon was liberating in a way that Dean had never felt liberated before. Seriously, if this was how Sam'd felt while soulless, then Dean really ought to find a way to help his baby brother lose that pesky thing again. Then they could both head to Vegas and bone till the end of times.

Lean mean Dean. Mean being the key word.

He killed Amelia- after he fucked Don in front of her. Yeah, bitch. How'd you like them apples? Hacked her to death with the first blade, which was better than she'd deserved anyways.

That man back in that bar, the one Sam'd blown a decade ago? Dead now too. Dean had taken his time with him. Sam'd been 22, not a prostitute, the bastard should've known better.

The last on his list was that little whore from Sam's last heat. Dean'd raped him first.

The minute Sam headed out, Dean made his escape. Silly Sammy, curing Dean was gonna make the Devil's trap useless, now wasn't it? The bonds were no problem. Even as a human he could've slipped out of those easy. By the time Sam got back, Dean was out and waiting, axe in hand, hiding behind the door at the top of the stairs.

Sam hit the panic alarm, but it was useless and they both knew that.

“It’s time you and I had a little chat.” Dean purred, blocking Sam's escape.

.

“No.” Sam brandished the knife in his pocket but Dean was faster. In the time it took him to take it out, trained as he was, Dean had him pinned to the stairs.

Dean’s crotch rubbed against his ass. Fuck! Dean'd always wanted to that. He did it again, really feeling the soft curve hiding away the layers of firm muscle just under it. Sammy must not have been working out that much. Good. Dean intended to keep it that way.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam half-whispered. Dean's Alpha could scent Sam's delicious fear. Oh, this was so hot.

“What I’ve wanted to do for years.”

“Dean, you’re not making any sense.”

“You, Sam. I’ve wanted YOU!” Dean snarled into his ear, hands tightening around his waist.

“Dean, you don’t want this.”

“Oh yes I do, baby boy. Yes I do.” He ground his hips again, erection searching for a hole. “Always have, always will. Wanted a taste of your sweet ass since the day I presented as an Alpha.”

“Dean!” Sam gasped as Dean ripped open his pants, stretches of denim tearing into mere threads till Sam stood vulnerable in just his boxers, tiny little cock lost somewhere under the fabric. Oh Dean was going to have so much fun with that cock. “Dean, please. YOU don’t want this, I’m not talking to the demon.”

“Sam, Sam, Sam. When are you gonna learn? I AM the demon. Me. Dean 2.0, and I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

“Dean, stop it.”

“I can smell you, can smell how wet you are.”

“What?” Oh right, Sam was a gullible idiot. How could Dean have forgotten that little tidbit?

“I’ve always been able to smell how wet you were, Sammy. Can’t believe you ever fell for my little lie.” Dean licked up Sam’s neck as the taller man shivered. “Did you really think an Alpha couldn’t scent a wet bitch? That’s very counter-procreation, and that isn’t how nature works, now is it?”

“You’re lying." Sam insisted. Dean didn't mind so long as desperation turned into perspiration. God, all of Sam was delicious! "My Dean made it damn clear he didn’t want me.” 

“Old me had a conscience," Dean stated the obvious, "he felt bad that you liked him like that. Blamed it on your upbringing, felt bad for not protecting you from it... but you wanna know what hurt him worst of all, huh Sammy? He felt like he’d groomed you in some way. Groomed you to want what he wanted. Me? I don’t really care. I see flesh and I want it.” Dean leaned down and tore Sam’s boxers off of him, the flimsy fabric coming off much easier than the jeans had. “You wanna know why he killed Amy? Why he REALLY killed Amy? Sure, she was a monster, but he was jealous. He remembered her name from your list of Alphas who’d kept you company... saw you not killing her as you still having feelings for her.”

“No.” Sam denied. “No. My Dean isn’t like that.” Poor naive little Sammy. No wonder old!Dean had fallen for him.

“You sure about that?”

“Damn straight I am. I know him better than anyone, including himself.” Sam said, confidently.

“So you know that while he was in Purgatory, he fucked with Benny.”

“Obviously. You’re an Alpha and he’s an Omega, I’m not stupid.”

“And you know the only reason he broke it off with Benny was because he could smell that Amelia bitch all over you.”

“He sent me to Amelia because he didn’t want me around.”

“No, he sent you to Amelia because you’d mentioned her Omega was back and he didn’t think you’d go all ‘Other Woman.’ He thought she was a safe choice. He wanted to tear her limb from limb, almost went out and did it actually. Or the bar, when he pretended he was scared about you choking to death on that man’s knot, but he was just mad you weren’t choking on his.”

“What bar?” Dean snarled.

“The bar. Ten years ago, remember?”

“Dean- that was ages ago.” And?

“You know, sometimes he gets off thinking about you on that bathroom floor. You were one hell of a twink, now you’re more of a MILF.”

“I’m not a mom.”

“I can change that.” And fuck, wasn't that a thought? Sammy all barefoot and pregnant for him. Protruding belly, tits full of milk. Dean bet with all those veggies Sam at that the milk Sam made'd taste like honey. Dean could breed a demon army in Sam, use it to take over Hell. Boyking and the Knight, co-rulers, together forever.

“Dean- no, stop! Stop this! I won’t let you use his body for this!”

“How many damned times do I have to tell you, Sam. I AM him, this IS me!”

“No, you’re not. This is like when I was soulless-”

“And he’d wanted to bang you then too.” Dean huffed a laugh. “Man, Sammy, if I could go back and fuck that little bitch into shape you bet I would. But now? I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

Dean buried his face in Sam’s bare ass, tasting the slick he'd sometimes sucked off of Sam's underwear when he was on laundry duty. God, so much better from the source.

Sam let out a moan, stirring him on. As a demon he was a selfish lover, but what could be more selfish than pleasing Sam? “Dean, please! Please stop this!”

“‘M afraid I can’t. You’re in preheat.”

“Dean- please stop! We can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Dean grabbed one of Sam’s balls. “Oh, and I lied about the Omega panties too. Didn’t want you getting the wrong kinds of attention from other Alphas. Especially with your track record of running into the first Alpha’s arms you can find. Cumslut.”

“‘Snot true.”

“Oh really? Amy? Your prom date? Brady, even if you never spent a heat together. Jess? Madison? Ruby? LUCIFER-” Lucifer, who'd gotten to have sex with Sam over and over for over a hundred years, the bastard. Dean'd have trouble making up for lost time, but as long as he had the mark... “And don’t give me any of that ‘I didn’t want it,’ bull crap, you still let another Alpha fuck you... still let another Alpha put his seed where mine belonged, and I’m here to end that.” Dean shoved into Sam in one go.

Sam cried out. “Dean, stop. Cas’ll be here any second!”

Dean growled, bunching up Sam’s hair and shoving his head into one of the steps. “Don’t you EVER mention another Alpha’s name when you’re with me again, you understand?” He began rocking his hips. Sam let out little soft whimpers, music to Dean's ears. “Your body’s in pre-heat, nice and receptive for me. I wonder what we can do to push it into actual heat.” He used his free hand to stroke Sam’s smaller, Omega-sized cock as his knot began to fill. “God. You have no clue how badly I wanted to do this last time. I saw that puffy pink hole of yours you’d used the dildo I’d bought you on. I found the guy I’d paid to fuck you, by the way, once my eyes turned black. He’s dead now. So’s Amelia- I made her watch me fuck Don. I also killed that guy you blew at the bar. Now there’s only one person left on this planet that’s fucked you. Submit, Omega. Be mine. Let me lead my life, come with me. We can be together, just like you’ve always wanted.” Dean whispered these promises sweetly into Sam’s ear. It was hard to resist.

“I’ll-You’ll never stop me. I’ll get my brother back.”

“So be it.” Dean bit down on the juncture of Sam’s neck. Sam gasped as Dean’s knot filled him completely, spurting seed in an erratically timed fashion.

“Even if it means him rejecting this?” Dean whispered, his words seemingly concerned though his tone was anything but. He licked over the newly forged mating wound. “Even if it means him rejecting any life I might have just put into you? He’d want you to get rid of it you know?” And the sad part was that he was well-acquainted enough with his pussy-self to know that that was reality. If Dean were to reemerge then he'd most certainly force Sam to have an abortion, wanting to shed off the label of 'brother fucker.' Keep himself safe from the scrutiny of Cas, Jody, Charlie and the others.

Sam hung his head.

Check. Mate.