Sam wiggled his toes over the edge of the too short mattress.
Dean had told him numerous times to go buy himself a longer version now that they had a stable place to call home, but Sam had never taken his brother's advice on that.
Though Dean might consider the bunker home, Sam never had nor probably ever would, even if they ended up living here till they were octogenarians.
When he was a kid he'd have jumped at having such a cool place to live in, full of books and weird stuff to explore, but Sam was no longer that child and even though the bunker was an interesting work-place, to Sam home meant something different.
A frown wrinkled his forehead as he concentrated on the rare book he was studying.
The ancient Aramaic wasn't a language he had much of a hold on, but as all things supernatural seemed to have taken a vacation these past two weeks, Sam had been putting his time to good use, deciding he was going to kick this Aramaic in the butt.
He was so engrossed in his contemplation of the 'alien' language that he didn't notice his brother leaning against the door-frame watching him.
“Dude, only you could find a dead language so fascinating. For how long are you gonna lock yourself away with that book. It does nothing for my ego that you prefer it to me.”
Sam squinted up at his brother. Dean wasn't completely mistaken. He could feel his eyes strained by the constant perusal of the spidery writing. Maybe it was time for a break.
Dean hummed his approval when Sam closed the religious text and placed it carefully on the little side table.
He made to swing his legs over the side of the bed but Dean stopped him.
“Uh-uh. You just stay right where you are, little brother. I'm gonna take care of you. Scoot over.”
“Shh,” his brother replied, slipping onto the bed and stretching out alongside the younger man. “Don't you move. Close your eyes. Just relax and let me do all the work.”
Sam swallowed down the anticipation that gripped him, his body beginning to tingle in preparation for Dean's touch.
When the familiar calloused hand began to unbutton his shirt, behind his closed lids Sam abandoned himself to the darkness and allowed his other four senses to take over.
Before long his brother's hand had dispensed with the flannel and was warm against his flesh, the petting fingers caressing his chest, making him tense up pleasurably as they rubbed over his nipples.
When he felt the zip of his jeans being pulled down, Sam held his breath, waiting for what was to come and when Dean cupped his hardening cock, he let his breath out in a soft sigh.
“You like that, huh?” Dean teased, voice husky. “Keep your eyes closed, princess.”
At the pressure of Dean's lips on his own, his big brother's tongue coaxing his lips apart, Sam emptied his mind of everything except the sensations caused by those beloved lips and hands on his body.
His brother's mouth became gradually more demanding, hungry to taste all of Sam, but the younger Winchester mused, with what rationality still remained after Dean's seductive onslaught, that his big brother already possessed him body and soul.
When Dean's kisses and his talented hand on Sam's cock had brought the younger man to the brink of orgasm, everything stilled.
Though Sam's eyes were still closed and his body wound up like a spring about to unravel, he didn't stir.
He could feel Dean's eyes raking over his body.
It was one of Dean's quirks. When Sam had asked him about it, his brother had answered that there was nothing more erotic than contemplating his baby brother trembling on the edge of orgasm.
And Sam was, shivering in arousal for Dean's hand to give release to the building pleasure.
When he peaked, Sam bucked wantonly in his big brother's embrace, warm and safe in Dean's arms. The only place he ever wanted to be. The only place that was truly home.