By Weirdnessmagnet
Paring: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Dean knows Sam doesn't really want to know about Hell.
Disclaimers: The boys belong to Kripke and CW. If they were mine, I guarantee they'd be having more sex, at least with each other.
Spoilers: None.

**

The problem with having nightmares about Hell -- one of the problems, anyway – is that when Dean wakes up, Sam asks if he wants to talk about it.

The answer is no, because nobody really wants to know about Hell. Not real Hell. People describe it as the worst possible place imaginable, full of horror and grotesqueness and blood and torment and while the human imagination is a pretty twisted cruller, it's nothing compared to the real deal.

Dean fit in pretty damn well there. So.

“No,” Dean says again when Sam offers a listening ear.

Which leads to Sam pulling bitchface #14, the one where his eyes get sad and his mouth thins but his nose doesn't scrunch up, too much annoyance to be one of Sam's hurt-puppy-pouts and not mad enough to make Dean call him a girl and tell him to go back to his own bed. It's a look that makes Dean exhale and scoot over, instead.

After Dean has one of his nightmares, Sam always crawls into Dean's bed. He isn't sure if Sam's trying to reassure Dean or himself that Dean is here and safe and everything is as okay as either of them can make them in this moment. It doesn't matter which of them needs convincing once Sam is snuggled up against Dean's back, one hand pressed against Dean's chest and the other on his hip tugging him closer.

Dean mumbles softly as Sam plants kisses along Dean's shoulder blades. Sam stops. “What?”

“Sleepy,” Dean says louder this time.

“You don't want to?”

“Mmph.” Dean scratches his nose against the pillow.

“It'll help,” Sam says, and Dean feels Sam's hand slide from his hip to tease the tip of his cock.

“Mmph.”

Sam cups Dean's balls more firmly, sliding fingers around Dean's sac as his shaft hardens. He lifts Dean's leg up and back over his own, spreading Dean's thighs and taking the weight.

Dean feels his dick twitch at Sam's light ministrations. The hand on his chest holds him firmly against Sam's body. He can't help but wriggle against his brother. “Sam.”

“Let me.” Sam's breath is hot against Dean's ear before Sam tongues and bites at his earlobe.

Dean groans and gives up arguing when Sam starts to jack him steadily. Firm, sure strokes with his big warm hand, and pretty soon Dean's bucking into it and back against the erection pressing against his ass. He can hear Sam's little breathy whimpers, feel the arms around him tighten and twitch.

Sam nips little bites on Dean's shoulders that won't leave marks come morning. “Harder,” Dean mutters, and Sam moans and bites down on Dean's skin and yanks his cock viciously. It's too rough and it hurts and it's perfect, and Dean comes all over Sam's fist.

Dean breathes rough but regular and Sam props up on one elbow, licking Dean's come off his fingers. Dean tries to roll over but Sam stops him, pushing him back on his side. Sam presses right back up against Dean's back.

“What about you?” Dean asks.

“Save it for morning,” Sam says around a yawn.

Dean wraps his fingers into Sam's and listens to his brother breathing become regular with sleep. Dean looks at the night sky through the small part in the motel room curtains. Finds Venus, spots three stars in Orion’s belt.

It's better like this, Dean decides. Sam doesn't really want to know about Hell, anyway.

~end