
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/988006.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Pre-Series, Stanford_Era, Masturbation, Light_Bondage, Leather_Kink,
      Dirty_Talk
  Series:
      Part 2 of The_Bones_of_You
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-10-02 Words: 1439
****** And It's You, and It's May ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     As Sam starts to unpack at Stanford, he finds Dean's old leather
     belt.
It has been twelve days since the final blow up between Sam and his father.
Three days since he has moved into his dorm. Six hours since Dean has last
called.

"I don't know where we are heading next, but I'll let you know when I do. I
know you're gonna be busy with school so I'll try not to bother you for a
couple days. Take care Sammy."

The past three days had been hectic to say the least. Between moving in, trying
to find a job, going through all the freshman orientations, and starting
classes, Sam has been too busy to really unpack,
This isn't going to last. It can't last. Nothing this normal ever stays. but
today Sam is stuck in his room with nothing to do. He hasn't made any friends
yet
Don't bother, you'll be gone in a week anyway.

and his roommate has traveled back home because his nephew is due be born
tomorrow. So, now Sam is an empty room with his full duffel bag just taunting
him

Look at me. I am your life, just a string of motel rooms because freaks like
you don't deserve homes.

So, he decides, it's time to actually settle in. He sets about putting away his
things. Jeans and tshirts go in the top drawer, holy water and silver go under
his pillow, socks and underwear in the bottom drawer.

It's when he is almost at the bottom that he finds it. Dean's leather belt, and
doesn't that bring up some memories. The swoosh the belt being practically
ripped from Dean's belt loops, the smell of sweat, Dean all stretched out on
the bed, the weight of his brother's cock on his tongue as Sam sucked him down.

And shit, this is why you are a freak. No amount of demons or bad parenting can
make you this fucked up.

Sam remembers the first night he had sex. Dean was scared because God knows he
would never want to hurt his brother

"But Dean, I want it. I want you."

They had kissed and jacked each other off before, and there was no telling how
many times Sam had gotten off by rubbing one off on Dean's stomach.

"But this is different Sammy."
"I know. I still want it."
"I'm not going to hurt you Sammy."
"I know you won't."

Sam slowly stands up, belt in hand, and walks over to his bed. He thumbs the
belt, the texture so familiar. It felt like the days in the backseat, trying to
read while Dad and Dean blasted their music. Sam didn't miss that, but God did
he miss his brother calling him a nerd. Miss him always trying to eat some
greaseball on a bun because "You need to eat some real food sometimes." Sam
mind wanders back to the memory, back to that motel in Maine.

Sam pushed Dean's bare chest and his brother complied, laying back onto the bed
"Lift your hands."
"Why?"
"To prove you're not making me do anything I don't want." Dean did as he was
told. Always so obedient, needing instruction, wanting to be led. Sam hopped
off the bed and started searching for where they had left their clothes in the
dark. He came back with Dean's belt. Sam straddled Dean's waist, wrapped it
around his brother's wrists, and tied them to the headboard.
"Is this okay?"
"Yeah Sammy. Yeah, th-this is fine." Sam will never forget the way Dean's voice
had shook, or how he could feel his brother's cock harden instantly against his
thigh.

Sam groans at the memory. He slowly unzips his pant's. Justin won't be back for
another two days, he can allow himself to indulge in a memory or two. Sam lays
back, takes off his shirt, and starts to palm himself through his boxers.

"Sammy, be careful, you can really hurt yourself if you don't use enough lu-"
"I got it." Sam pulled out a tube labeled "Love Slick Glide"
"Well, you've got to, um, stre-" A sudden kiss
"Dean, stop, I know what I'm supposed to do. I did lots of research," Sam
winked. He could practically see the images swirling in front of Dean's eye.
Dean gulped. A soft click sounded as Sam opened the tube, pouring the liquid
onto his fingers.
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh, I thought of you the whole time." Sam turned to where Dean could get a
good view of his hole and then started slowly circling it with a slick finger.
"Thought about this, thought about lots of things, Dean. I even practiced so I
would be ready when I finally got you to say yes." He pushed a finger in,
knuckle by knuckle. Sammy sighed and moved it in slowly in and out. "Thought
about your soft lips and huge cock while I fingered myself. Thought about you
biting my thigh while you finger-fucked me, got me ready to take your cock." He
slipped in another finger. "Thought about they way you'd call me Baby Boy, how
damn good it'd feel to get you inside of me..." Sam gasped as he scissored his
fingers
Dean groaned, "Fuck Sammy" and bucked his hips. "You filthy boy." Sam added a
third finger. "Make sure you use extra lube. It ain't as easy as the pornos
make it look."
"Like this?" Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean as he pulled his fingers out
slowly, until just the tips remained. He pulled his fingers apart, opened the
lube and squirted it straight into his gaping hole.

In his dorm, Sam slowly tugs at his cock. He swipes his thumb over his slit
just like Dean taught him. He still has the belt in his hand, and he is rubbing
it just like he did three years ago.

"Oh God yes Sammy."
Sam turned around. He straddled Deans hips, leaned forward for a kiss. It was a
slow, indulgent kiss. Tongues tangled lazily. Sam reached a hand up to cup
Dean's face and let the other wander to his leather bindings, thumbing idly at
them.
"I love you Dean."
"I love you too Sammy."
Sam grabbed Dean's cock, steadied himself, and slowly lowered himself. He
closed his eyes
Dear Lord this is a lot harder than porn.
and had to pause a couple of times to catch his breath. When he was fully
seated, Sam gave a breathless laugh as he looked up to his brother. Dean looked
like he had seen God, and Sam knew he had seen divinity in that moment. It was
the love in his brother's eyes, so pure and limitless.
This is why this can't be wrong. This is love.
He leaned down and kissed Dean again. "You okay Sammy?"
"Yeah, I'm good" and they had started to rock their hips. The rhythm was off,
but it was nice.
I guess being the top is better, but that's okay. It's still ni-
"Holyfuck!"
"There it is," and Dean had shot a smug look at Sam, not that his brother had
noticed. He was too busy thrusting his hips, trying to get as much of that
feeling as possible.
"Oh God Dean, oh fuck."
"That's it. That's a boy. Wish you could see yourself, look so good bouncing on
my dick. You feel so good, Baby Boy."
"Oh God! I love you Dean. I love you I love you," Sam moaned. Never had Dean's
name sounded more like a prayer.
"Love you too Baby Boy. Want to see you cum. Want you to jack yourself off,
jizz on my chest. I want to see your face. I want to feel you cum, Sammy."
He had rushed to obey. Hand flying over his cock.

"Dean, oh God Dean, I'm, I'm gonna cum." Sam painted his brother's chest with
his seed as he felt Dean cumming inside of him.

Now Sam is panting, vaguely remembering the words spoken after they had caught
their breath.
"You okay?"
"I'm more than okay. What about you? How are your wrists?"
He remebers the soft touches and gentle kisses. Love confessed in whispers and
reverent tones.
"You were amazing Baby Boy. Love you Sammy."

Moments pass as Sam catches his breath. He looks at his hand, covered in spunk.
He thinks that if Dean were here, he would flick it in his face. It always
guaranteed a round two. Instead, he waits until his legs will not wobble, and
walks to the sink to clean up. The extra seven minutes he spends rinsing the
soap is not so he can compose himself, and there is certainly no tears he wipes
away afterwards.
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