**i wrote this a while ago when i was rewatching season 8. i love a jealous top dean and think normally he does top butttttt i also think sometimes sam can be the jealous bastard too. SO: top sam, sort of dubcon but not really, enjoy~ **
Sam has him on all fours, faced up right against the bed frame and wall. Dean’s one hand is just trying to hold himself up, but the other one is laid across the bed frame, fisted tight. His head is thrown back, resting now against Sam’s shoulder, and his face is contorted, more pain in it than he really feels.
Sam’s already pushed inside him, deep and slow and now presses down along him, chest to back. Sam’s own hand is gripped tight on Dean’s hip, the other one playing along his chest, moving up slowly to sit over his throat.
Sam’s tongue is on his neck, and Dean’s trying not to show his little brother how it affects him, trying not to make any noises that betray him. Sam knows how he makes him feel and Dean refuses to show it, not now when Sam’s just trying to prove a point, when he’s just trying to force Dean to show his vulnerabilities. And Sam’s just mad at him anyway, so he’ll take whatever anger Sam gives him but he’s not giving anything back.
Sam’s hand tightens on his throat, mouth moving up to whisper right in his ear, “you’re mine, Dean.”
The smallest sigh escapes Dean’s lips, still trying to keep his emotions to himself, and his ass clenches, involuntary reaction to Sam’s silken voice. But apparently it’s all Sam needs as encouragement, laughing lightly in his ear, hand stroking so gently down his neck.
“You like it slow, don’t you?” He pulls out slowly, snapping his hips back in a single, quick motion. “You like making love, Dean? Taking your time?”
Dean can’t stop himself now, air punched out of him, head falling forward, “shit.”
“I know you like it.” Another deep push of Sam’s hips, “I know you do, sweetheart.”
Dean is loosing his control and he moans out, hips pushing back and up into Sam, unconsciously opening up to him. His legs spread, too, and Sam slips just a little deeper, making Dean shake.
Sam’s next thrust is hard and fast, forgetting his earlier talk, straightening up to kneel fully behind Dean, both hands now holding onto his brother's hips. Sam gives his own hips a little roll, leveraging himself to start a quicker pace.
“Sammy.” Dean falls forward, face pushing into the pillow, all pretense dropping away.
It’s what Sam wants, what he’s been waiting for, and he doesn’t waste any more time. He sets an unrelenting pace, quick, shallow thrusts forcing the gasps and moans out of his brother. Sam wants Dean to remember who he belongs to. He wants to etch his name all along Dean's insides so he never forgets it.
Sam's name is a chant on Dean's lips, broken only by curses and whines, his big brother no longer thinking right. But Sam wants more, wants every inch of Dean's skin to remember his touch long after tonight, and he lets his hands wander over Dean's back and chest. They find Dean's nipples and Sam pinches, hard, making him cry out.
It doesn't take long after that, a few more deep thrusts finding Dean's prostrate and the older man falls apart underneath him, coming untouched, screaming his name. Sam can feel it around him, lets his hands fall to the bed to steady himself before trying to bury deeper into him, letting go a few moments later, spilling into Dean.
Sam lets it wash over him, can feel Dean shudder as he comes down, but waits until his breathing eases enough before pressing a kiss to Dean's shoulder and slipping out. Dean groans, shaking again as Sam pulls free, immediately sliding down to get comfortable, face down, on the bed.
Sam lays out next to him, hand playing over his back, "you're mine, too."
He's frowning, though the anger has died down in him, but he only did this tonight because Dean needs to understand it.
Sam's been on the receiving end of Dean's jealousy so many times and it's about time his brother learned it goes both ways. Dean has a bad way of thinking his love is entirely one-sided, when Sam's been screaming at him for years that it isn't, and Benny pushed him all the wrong ways. Benny broke Sam in a way he didn't think was possible and, now, here they are.
"I know." Dean mumbles into the pillow, unmoving.
Sam sighs, frustrated still, and Dean finally turns his face toward him at the sound. He doesn't say anything, a tired look coloring his pretty features, but lifts his arm and shifts enough to make space for Sam. Sam doesn't hesitate, takes the invitation easily and buries his face against Dean, breathing him in, settling in for the night. It's far from a perfect end, but Sam will take it for now.