It happened on a Thursday, the stupid fucking bad ass of the week having banged them both up pretty good, especially Sam who was bleeding from a myriad of tiny cuts all over his face and chest. They had both dragged themselves up from the floor where the final explosion had sent them and Sam was trying to brush the dust off of his clothes without much success. Once again he wondered why on earth he put up with this kind of shit, why he wasn't planted firmly at a desk somewhere where the hardest thing he would have to do would be finding more than three sources to verify his claims, whatever they were.

He glanced over at Dean who was resting his hands on his thighs, still panting slightly from the exertion and knew. The dust had settled in his hair, making it look grey, and streaks of blood and grime was marring his perfect face. Dean turned his head when he felt Sam's eyes on him and before Sam had time to react Dean had him pressed up against the wall, one thigh between his and one hand fisted in his hair.

Sam didn't even have time to think before Dean's lips were on his and Dean's tongue slid into his mouth, and maybe it was better that way. He slid his arms around Dean's broad back, pulling him closer, his suddenly rock hard dick pressing against Dean's hip. The kiss tasted of blood and dust but underneath it he could sense a tang of Dean and fuck if it wasn't the best taste ever. Dean was sucking on his tongue, thrusting lazily against one of Sam's thighs and Sam was so damned close to coming in his pants that it wasn't even funny.

With an almost inhuman effort he managed to push Dean away for long enough to take a few ragged breaths before Dean was attacking his mouth again. The kiss was rough without any finesse or gentleness but it was more than enough for Sam's overloaded senses. Almost whining with need he struggled with Dean's belt buckle until he managed to get it undone. Dean's cock fit perfectly in his hand; long, thick and weeping with need. Dean groaned into his mouth as Sam started jacking him roughly, pressing his thumb against the bundle of nerves on the underside.

Sam moaned when Dean unceremoniously shoved a hand down his jeans and grabbed his cock, fingers sliding over it as he thrust into Sam's fist and sucked on his tongue. It was over almost as soon as it had started, Dean coming in long pulsing spurts over his hand while Sam creamed his pants with Dean's fingers idly stroking his dick.

Dean took half a step back panting harshly, looking at his hand, which was covered in a mixture of blood, dirt and Sam's come. He pulled his pants back up, buckling his belt and wiping his hands on his thighs with an unreadable look on his face. Sam wanted to say something but no words presented themselves so he let his head fall back against the uneven wall, closing his eyes.

They didn't talk as they walked back to the car and they didn't talk once they got back to the motel. Dean let Sam shower first with an almost imperceptible nod of his head and for once Sam brought clean clothes with him into the bathroom. Sam had a hard time wrapping his mind around what had happened between them. Dean had kissed him, they had jerked each other off, yet it didn't seem like Dean was going to talk about it, not that he was surprised. Dean didn't talk about anything these days.

Could it be that he had finally figured out what made Sam tick, what had kept him by Dean's side this far? Sam would do anything for Dean and Dean wanted him to stay, so he stayed, but it was more than that. Sam wanted Dean, wanted Dean with a passion that surpassed reason and now Dean had given him what he wanted. Had Dean just been willing to give that earlier Sam would never have left for college. He would have put up with their dad bossing him around and living the life of a vagabond, killing a new bad thing every week.

Somehow it didn't even matter if they never talked about it, because now it was there. The unspoken sin was a part of the pieces that made them up and Sam knew he would be able to reach for that piece when he needed it. It was how they worked, eleven thousand pieces made up the whole that was Dean and Sam and each and every piece was there to be looked at, touched and interacted with. This would be piece eleven thousand and one, Sam's piece and a little piece of heaven.