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What Sammy Wants, Sammy Gets.

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Summary: So Sam loses memory? Check. Sam notices the pretty boy that touches him alot? Check. Pretty boy has no idea what he's in for? Check. (Wincest)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories(Past Donor)ebonypsycheFR181821271,61726 Jul 0726 Jul 07Yes
Written for the rounds of kink challenge.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story do not belong to me. *blink* Wow that was short and sweet.

Branches are clouding his vision and scratching up his skin as he races through the woods. Sam swears that once he gets through all of this is going to kill Dean. His brother had sworn that he reloaded the shotgun before they left. But then Sam should have checked himself and

“Sam! Sammy where the fuck are you?!”

Dean came in to view, his own gun in hand. “ Duck”

Except, Sam weaved instead of ducked and even as he heard the demon fall all he could think was how he was going to kill Dean and…

--------

Pretty lips.

He sat there looking at the pretty guy with the freaking amazing lips who was touching him all over and-

“What?”

Lips cupped his head and brought him closer. “I asked if you’re okay.”

He nodded. “Oh yeah. Fine.” And then he closed the space between, crushing their lips. Lips parted his… lips and allowed him to slip his tongue in. He wasn’t sure who the moan belonged to, only that it was a reason to pull this guy down with him.

At least it was until Lips pulled away. “Sam what the fuck?”

He smiled sheepishly. “You have really pretty lips.”

Lips stood up and paced. “Yeah dude I know but that’s no reason to- what?” He answered to the raised hand.

“Uh who’s Sam?”
----

Dean was a fucking saint. No if, ands, or buts about it. And he’s been one ever since they left the fucking hospital when they declared Sam was fine and should recover his memory in a few days.

Because idly entertaining an idea when you’re drunk is one thing, but having the idea rub up against you and wanting to respond so fucking badly is another thing completely.

Well, not really. He’s still a red blooded male after all. Who hadn’t had sex in…two weeks. Fuck at this point, the Snuggles bear would make him horny.

And that thought really helped him get control of the situation. “Sam c’mon already. I told you why we can’t.”

Sam moved closer. Dean had to catch his breath because at this point, he didn’t know it was fucking possible.

“But we don’t look alike. At all. So I don’t think it counts.”

Well when you put it that way… “We really can’t.”

Sam licked the outer shell of his ear but settled back into his seat and Dean let out a breath.

Sam with amnesia was a fucking horn dog. Just fucking great.
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Now he wasn’t sure if before he lost his memory he was narcissistic, but the first thing Sam noticed is that he is built. Sex on legs, if he does says so himself.

He thinks he gets it; Li-Dean was uncomfortable with the gay thing, or uncomfortable with them in public, with them admitting to being a couple. It makes sense since he’s really butch.

But they’re in a hotel room now. And Sam remembers how his “brother” reacted to him when their bodies were pressed together.

Maybe Dean just needs a reminder.
---

Jesus fucking Christ.

Sam comes out in sweats hanging low on his hips, glistening from the shower and Dean has to wonder if Sammy really had all those muscles before.

Well he certainly has them now as Dean feels when Sam crawls into bed with him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“S-S-Sam” Dean gets out. “Your bed is the other one.”

“Right.” Sam says. Or at least that’s what Dean feels, what with Sam’s hovering right above him with his breath ghosting over his skin.

It’s his only reason for why his hand shoots out and stops Sam from getting out of bed, despite the cocky grin Sammy has on his face right before he kisses him, settling in between his legs. “Sleeping in the nude big brother?” Sam purrs. “I’m shocked.”

“Shut-ahhh-up.” Dean grinds out as he arches in to Sammy’s touch. Sam touches Dean like he knows him. Like he wanted this as much as Dean wanted him and this is more fucked up than he wants to think about right now.

So he doesn’t. He just spreads his legs a little wider.
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It was around the third day of sex that Dean realizes that Sam has his memory back. It’s nothing overt, no big clues, just… a realization. Like certain recognition and guilt in Sam’s eyes that lets him know that Sam’s aware of what they’re doing. But he rolls his hips, grips the headboard harder, and hisses for Dean to fuck him harder anyway.


So Dean will put it off as long as Sam wants to. Then he’ll find a way to convince Sam that it’s not his fault and yes he wants to keep doing this because there is no fucking way he’s letting go of the best sex he’s ever had.

The End

You have reached the end of "What Sammy Wants, Sammy Gets.". This story is complete.

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