I just want to see what people think of it before I post it on fanfic. (is it okay that there's a sex scene in here?) sweatdrop
Rated: NC -17 / M
Pairing: Sam X Dean
Themes: Romance, Humor, Some minor angst (for now)

Sweet Surrender
‘Dammit. Why does he have to be so goddamn cute?’ Dean once again found himself staring at his little brother’s irresistibly attractive features. His perfect face and hazel eyes. The perfect shape of his jaw. The perfect way his collar bone dipped down underneath his shirt. That’s what Sam Winchester was. He was perfect. ‘And still totally your little brother you sick pervert.’ Dean tried to shake his mind of the thought’s he managed to repress for years.
“Uh, Dean, would you stop staring at me and eat your burger?” Dean was snapped out of his trance and rearranged his expression from the loving gaze he didn’t know he had been looking at Sam with.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Sammy.” He quickly looked away and took a huge bite, quietly berating for letting his emotions show. Lately he had begun to let his guard down around his brother and he was afraid his real feelings would be found out. He knew what would happen then. His brother would hate him, be disgusted with him, and never want to be near him again.
Sam was upset when Dean had looked away from him. He wished that Dean would always look at him like that and never turn away. He had seemed so different from his usual cool demeanor
“So where’s our next job, Sammy?” Dean asked, leaning back and lounging in his chair.
“Um, let’s see,” Sam set down the newspaper in his hands down on the table between them “A series of murders. All people killing their own family members,“ he pointed to an article on the front page and blushed slightly as Dean leaned in to look at it. “The latest is a woman who kills her own son with a kitchen knife. Every one of the killers claims to have not committed the murder or even coming home.”
“Well wouldn’t most people claim to be innocent if they were accused of murder?”
“Why would five people from normal, happy families suddenly slash up the people they love? I think it’s worth checking out.”
“sure, where are we going?”
“It’s just a few states over in…” He paused with a puzzled look on his face. “Sandwich Landing, Nevada? What the hell?”
“Dude, is that even a real town?” Dean was chuckling with the grin that Sam loved.
“Apparently. Either that or it was a really bad typo.”
“Well,” Dean pushed himself up from his seat. “let’s get goin’ Sammy.”
. . .
The car was silent other than the low breathing of a sleeping Sam. Dean glanced over at him as often as was wise for someone who was driving. Sam’s sleeping face was even more gorgeous than when he was awake. It showed a peacefulness that rarely showed during the long hours of the day and Dean had to resist the urge to brush away the soft hair that had fallen into Sam’s face partially covering it.
‘Keep it cool Dean. Just keep it under control.’ Dean glanced again at his brother and whispered wistfully “Why does it have to be like this?” ‘Why can’t we be like normal brothers?’ But they had never been normal so even a normal brotherly relationship was impossible for them.
Sam held his breathe as he heard Dean whisper. He hadn’t meant to seem asleep but he couldn’t help but try to control his breathing and keep his eyes sealed shut as he felt his brother’s gaze on him. Sam mentally urged Dean to finish his whispered thoughts aloud so he could know what Dean was thinking. Dean stayed silent and eventually Sam drifted off to actual sleep and dreams in which he could hold kiss and touch his brother as much as he wanted.
“Hey Sam. Get up already.” Sam opened his eyes blearily to see Dean’s face near his, leaning over his seat in the car. Sam drew back quickly, hitting his head against the window of the Impala.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed rubbing the back of his head.
“What’d I do? You don’t need to freak out. We’re at the motel now so get up and you can sleep in the room.” Dean stared at Sam’s adorable drowsy face and thought that he looked a little like a puppy.
Sam looked at the dingy motel and sighed. It would be nice to be able to sleep in a bed that didn’t have stains of unknown and unmentionable substances on it. When he had checked in and gotten to their room Sam collapsed onto the off-white sheets of his bed.
“You should get some sleep too Dean. You’re probably tired after driving all day.” Sam noted sleepily when Dean sat down on the edge of his own bed and switched on the TV to a mindless hospital sitcom.
“Yeah in a minute. You sleep.” Dean replied in a far off, distracted tone that suggested he had deeper tings on his mind.
Dean sat staring at the screen but not really seeing what was happening with the fuzzy figures on the tiny television screen. He was listening to Sam’s deep breathing in the bed next to him. He wondered if he was asleep yet and if so what he was dreaming about.
Dean was breathing heavily trying to hold back a moan as he writhed with pleasure under Sam. “S – Sammy. Don’t stop. Please.” Sam pushed deep into dean and brushed kisses on his lips, his neck, and his chest. There was a haze of lust and ecstasy filling them both, the pleasure of giving into their repressed, taboo desires, almost as great as the pleasure from the sex itself. Sam and Dean both cried each other’s names out loud as they climaxed together in a haze of pure, sexual pleasure.
Sam woke up with a jolt and a substantial wet spot I his boxers. He froze but relaxed when he heard the hum of the shower running. He would be safe with simply changing his boxers and getting straight into research for their current job. He got on his laptop but found it difficult to concentrate on anything long enough to get anything done. His mind kept wandering back to his dream the night before.
Dean was trying to clear his head as he stared at the tiled wall of the shower. He had to stop his mind from thinking about the sounds Sam had been making his sleep. Sam had been moaning and Dean hadn’t been able to stop himself from being turned on and had to go out for a midnight walk because he had nearly sexually assaulted his brother in his sleep before coming to his senses. Always resisting was anguish and it never got easier no matter how long he tried. Sam seemed to get more attractive everyday and Dean didn’t think he could resist his growing obsession for much longer. Dean thinking about Sam so sexually made him come right then and there in the shower and his ever growing guilt consumed him. He slid down the wet wall and tried to stop himself from physically injuring himself as punishment for how ******** up his mind had become. After a few moments of depression and self loathing Dean pushed his thoughts aside for another time, turned off the now cold shower, and grabbed a towel.
Sam had completely given up on getting any work done and was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall when Dean got out of the bathroom. His skin glistened with water and his wet hair stuck to his face. Sam tried and failed to cover up his obvious ogling by speaking.
“You’re up earlier than usual Dean. What’s the occasion?” It was true that Sam usually woke up first but it wasn’t such a big deal that it should be a topic raised in idle conversation. He hoped it would still sound normal and not seem unusual or suspicious.
Dean noticed when Sam stared at him. It had seemed almost sexual. Dean’s mind had to come back from outer space when Sam spoke and he gave a hasty and oh-so-intelligent response. “Whatever b***h.” ‘Smooth Dean. That sounded so natural.’ He turned away and dug around in his bag for clothes. Dean changed without glancing back to see if Sam was still watching him.
It was hard for Sam to turn away when Dean was getting dressed. ‘Just turn your head. It’s not that hard. Don’t be such a damn freak, staring at your own brother like a pervert.” Sam managed to turn away and look at the wall but could still see Dean’s irresistible form from the corner of his eye breathing a sigh of relief when Dean was finally fully clothed and he was released from the trance Dean’s body put him in.
. . .
“So what do you think we’re dealing with here Sam?” Dean and Sam were sneaking in the back door (AN: he he, back door.) of Margret Marlow’s house. She was the woman in the paper most recently accused of murder.
“Dunno. Vengeful spirit? Or maybe a shapeshifter.”
“Ugh, shapeshifters. I hate those things.” Dean complained with a pout similar to a little kid’s. Sam thought it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.
“Yeah. WE both almost got killed last time we faced one.” Just thinking about the whole incident was exhausting for the both of them and they searched the house in silence for a while. Sam searched outside around the house and was successful until he stepped in something odd. “Well it’s definitely a shapeshifter,” he muttered while looking down in disgust at the pile of mush on his shoes.
. . .
TBC - haven't even finished the first chapter yet.