Chapter Text
"Alright," is when Sam starts to die inside. Agreeing to lock Dean in a box and throw him into the ocean is the beginning of the end.
He means to help, but he walks back to the house and sits down with his head in his hands. Mom sits next to him, rubbing his back a little, even though she doesn't know yet how bad it is.
"Please tell me you have whiskey around here," he says eventually.
*
Late that night, Mom is asleep, and Dean comes in from the shed.
In the dim lighting, Sam sits up on the couch, gets his feet on the floor. He can't tell if he's still half-asleep or if he drank more than he meant to.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Maudlin, Sam hangs his head and tries not to break down. He doesn't know how to accept that these are their final days together.
"Dean..." he whispers.
He feels the weight of his brother sitting next to him on the couch. Dean rests his chin on Sam's shoulder for a few seconds.
"Sam, there's something you should know."
"What?"
"Something about me, something... bad, but I don't wanna hide it anymore."
Sam finally makes himself look at his brother.
"What is it, Dean?"
Dean takes a deep breath and cups his younger brother's cheek, then smooths back his hair.
"I-" He licks his lips. The shadows in the room make it hard to be sure, but Sam thinks Dean is looking at his mouth. Like he's thinking about kissing it.
What is he trying to say, that he has feelings for Sam? That seems to be where this is headed, but it's so absurd to think that Dean of all people would have that kind of a secret.
He senses trepidation in his brother, so he reassures him:
"It's okay, Dean. Whatever you're trying to say, I'm listening."
"It's not okay. What I feel when I look at you... that's not okay."
"Whatever it is, however long you've hidden it, it's fine." He takes Dean's face in his hands. "You're good, Dean. Everything you are is good."
"What I want isn't."
"Tell me."
"...My own brother."
Sam touches their foreheads together.
"That's not necessarily wrong." He feels oddly peaceful in this moment. He has never wanted to kiss or touch his brother but if it's what Dean wants, he feels entirely comfortable with the idea.
He's about to lose him forever, anyway.
"Then..." Dean is trembling like Sam's never seen or felt before, but then he presses his parted lips to Sam's mouth.
Why would Sam fight this? Why wouldn't he give this to Dean? It's just a kiss. He reciprocates eagerly.
It's somehow a surprise when Dean's tongue passes over Sam's lip. It hadn't really occurred to him that Dean might want more, that his brother was hoping against hope itself that he could have Sam tonight in every way.
Well, Sam thinks, he can handle a make-out session. If he can make tonight a good night for Dean, then he will.
Maybe, somehow, if he does this, he won't lose his brother.
He kisses back with passion. It's easier than he ever would have imagined, even against unfamiliar rough stubble, a body without any of the curves he might lust for—his brother.
"Sam," Dean whispers. "Oh, God..."
It gives Sam a thrill to feel wanted, no matter how taboo the circumstances.
And if he's wanted, then... maybe this is an escape for a few minutes. Maybe he can forget.
He runs his hand over Dean's chest, then down to his hip. He splays his fingers over his brother's thigh, waiting for a signal to keep going.
Dean kisses his neck as he moves Sam's hand up, presses it against the hot bulge in his jeans.
"What do you want me to do, Dean?"
Without a word, Dean pulls away. He gets on his knees in front of Sam, between his legs.
Oh.
Dean unbuckles Sam's belt and starts to open his fly before realizing that his brother isn't even hard. He pauses, a record-scratch moment.
"You don't seem too interested in this."
Sam would question it too, if the person he was about to go down on seemed completely unaroused. However, his brother is going to have to make an exception. He looks Dean in the eye:
"You told me how you feel for a reason. You told me because if there was a snowball's chance of having this, you wanted it. The answer's yes. You have that chance, so take it."
"Sammy..."
"Dean, I've been locked up with an archangel. I can't tell you how bad it's gonna be, because there aren't words for how helpless, and scared, and alone I was." He's struck again with the absolute despair of their situation and has to take a deep breath before continuing. "I'd do anything to take your place now, so that you never have to know what it's like, but I can't. I can't do anything except give you this. If there's something you want, have it. Have me."
Dean is still hesitating, so Sam takes his cock out and strokes it right in front of him until it hardens. His brother is stunned.
"Is that interested enough for you?"
"...It's not real."
"None of this is real," Sam replies, which doesn't make a lot of sense but Dean understands him.
"I wanted it to be real with you."
"What we each want is real. Tonight, there's nothing you could want that I don't want to give."
Dean's eyes are shining with tears. He blinks them away as he nods. Sam nods back, then his brother lowers his head and presses a kiss to the head of Sam's cock.
Sam starts to feel the flush of true arousal creeping over his skin. For perhaps the first time in his life, he is excited about not quite knowing what's about to happen to his body, because he can trust Dean. Whatever happens, it will be the right thing.
He keeps his hands at his sides as Dean's tongue runs over every inch of his cock. His heart is pounding; his world has been overturned. His brother is leaving but his brother wants him. His brother is afraid to be selfish but his brother was hoping for this.
Dean takes the head into his mouth and wraps his hand around the shaft of Sam's cock, tongue working him over, hand giving expert strokes. Sam lets out a soft groan before biting his lip. He can't be loud; they can't be heard. He encourages Dean by caressing his face, his hair.
Then Dean does something with his teeth and Sam almost comes right then and there.
"Oh, shit," he whispers without meaning to. He starts to rock his hips slightly, unable to help himself when he's so close. He warns in a low whisper, "I'm gonna come, Dean."
His brother pulls off.
"I'm not done with you yet."
Sam's cock, left untouched, is oozing pre-come. Dean catches it on his finger and then licks it off.
Sam completely forgets about everything except giving himself to Dean. He's ready, eager to submit himself to his brother.
His brother very gently uses his tongue again, letting Sam back away from the edge of climax. He'll do that thing again, Sam thinks. The anticipation of it has him too excited to calm down much. He's breathing hard but he has to keep his mouth covered or he'll probably start making too much noise and wake up-
Whatever Dean does with his mouth sends piercing waves of pleasure through his body. Sam's groan is muffled but his free hand tightens on his brother's shoulder.
Again, Dean pauses, but rather than say anything, he runs his hands up and down Sam's denim-clad thighs as spit and precome run down the shaft of his cock.
"Should I do it again?" he asks with a grin when Sam is in more control of his faculties.
"Only if you like tasting come."
Dean makes a soft noise and unzips his own jeans.
Sam wonders what Dean will want him to do. He's never given a blowjob in his life but he'll try it for his brother.
The vague thoughts vanish when Dean takes Sam into his mouth again, sucking and licking.
Sam's so keyed up already, he'll never survive another whatever the hell Dean did, if he even lasts that long.
"Dean," he dares to whisper in warning before covering his mouth again. Dean's tongue starts flicking over a particularly sensitive spot on his dick. Sam makes a muffled sound. He can't hold back.
For a few fantastic seconds, everything is pleasure, release, euphoria. A sense of security, a feeling that nothing could ever be wrong in the world because he's with the person he trusts above all others.
He looks down at his big brother, who pulls off of Sam's softening cock and swallows without hesitation.
Closing his eyes, Sam tries to steady his heart. He has to be strong while Dean's still here, give his brother the best night he can.
He's confused when Dean gets up and turns away. He catches him by the belt.
"Dean? Don't you want me to... return the favor?"
Without turning around, his brother answers:
"Letting me do something to you is one thing. I can't ask you to..."
"I want to, Dean."
"No, you don't, not really."
Sam considers lying, but before he can, they hear a noise above them. Mom.
He scrambles to tuck himself away and zip up his jeans again. Dean uses the distraction as a chance to head outside.
It was probably a mistake, Sam thinks, letting his brother do that when he doesn't feel the same way. He's just so desperate to make things right with Dean, give him everything he can.
He tugs on his jacket and follows Dean out into the backyard.
The stars are out. It's been a long time since they watched the stars together, he thinks.
"Thank you," Dean says as Sam sits next to him at the picnic table.
"I feel like I should be the one saying that."
"I'm a messed up guy, Sam. You let me be selfish."
"Selfish is running off to get thrown into the ocean forever without telling me. That was..." Sam isn't sure if it's a good idea to say "one of the best blowjobs of my life" but it's the truth. He opts for something that's neither true nor false: "That wasn't difficult for me."
"Well, still. Thank you."
"Are you sure you don't-"
"Yes."
"Alright." Sam holds up his hands.
It's pleasantly, comfortably quiet as they look up at the sky. Although he succeeds in not thinking about what they just did, Sam's mind is dragged to the thing in the shed. The goddamn coffin.
"You're the only one who could've talked me out of it."
He won't try to talk Dean out of it, but he has to speak his mind, or regret it forever.
"Dean..."
"What?" His brother looks at him.
"I'll let the world burn if it means we'll be together at the end. I don't care what it costs, I don't care who we lose, I don't care if it's tomorrow. Earth, Heaven, Hell, God, the stars... everything will end someday. I just wanted to be with you when it did."
Dean is crying by the time Sam finishes speaking. He breathes deeply and wipes his cheeks before responding:
"I can't believe you expect me to know what the hell to say to that."
"Tell me there's another way."
"I wish I could. If I don't do this, Sam, Michael will wear my face forever. There's no third option where he possesses someone else while we go down swinging. If there was, then I'd do it for you, but there isn't. Dead or alive, there's no way this ends with us together."
"But..." There are no words—Sam couldn't get them past the lump in his throat anyway.
How can that be true? All their choices, acts of love, mistakes, wins, losses, and somehow they've come to this, a crossroads where all paths deny them the only reward they ever would have asked for the multiple times they've saved the seven billion people on the planet. How can the one thing they've always fought for, the one thing they needed for it all to be worth it, now be the one thing they can't have?