"cause we're not trapped out here with you. you're trapped out here with us."
the gun cocks and the line goes silent.
the cabin is dark, and sam and dean have had an invisible tie-line directly to the other's brain since 1983. they don't have to talk, they don't need to. the second the door shuts and all the traps are set, dean is shoving sam against the wall.
it's soft, at first. sam's breathes softly, steadily. dean knows he's alive, can see him, can feel him underneath his fingertips for the first time in six fucking weeks. he's been right next to dean this whole time but he couldn't touch him, couldn't trace the miles of skin with calloused hands and rough up angel skin. sam knows what's coming.
he's already hard.
it's a dream, this whole thing a dream, in a few short hours one of them will be dead and all they can do is this. these fingernails scraping against flesh, these teeth against those teeth. dean growls and sam hisses and nothing is right but them. they fit together, like always. they don't have to say words, they never do. just the understanding that they crash into each other like black holes or crash test cars is enough, their bodies being pushed and pressed together like every outside force is acting on it. they'll never be the same and they haven't been the same since.
these uniforms have to go, but they can't go because they've nothing else to wear. dean settles for letting them pool at their feet. sam tries to turn himself around but dean pushes him up against the table instead, gotta see you when you come, lover. he strokes sam's cock once, spits into his hand and slides the fluids across sam's hole. sam breathes out fast, stomach constricting so dean can see all the hard work he puts into his body, those deep crevasses that dean wants to lick the sweat from, but not now. one finger becomes two, two becomes three and dean hits that magic spot somewhere deep inside sam and sam cries out, leans forwards, bites on dean's shoulder, digs his fingernails into the fat part of dean's ass.
"fuck me."
dean spits again and presses inside. he has to kiss sam, otherwise he'd scream. sam is so tight so hot so wet so sweet so smooth and he almost loses it right there. sam wraps his arms around dean's neck and hooks his legs onto dean's thighs.
"i'm dyin' soon, fuck me."
"you're not the one dyin'."
"fuck you."
"love you."
dean brings his hand up to sam's throat and forces his little brother to look him dead in the eye. he pulls out, and shoves himself back in. he watches his dick disappear inside of his brother and he almost comes right there. neither make it more than a few thrusts, touch starved, brother starved, love starved, sam all over them and dean inside sam, their sounds echoing in the small cabin. if anyone hears them, who cares.
"we're gonna die, dean." sam’s chest is heaving.
"ya. together forever."
he kisses his brother. together forever.
