Dean's nose wrinkles as he steps up on the sidewalk in front of his room and he's grateful that there is no one staying in the rooms on either side of theirs, because there would be some serious complaints. Ugh, the smell is horrible, like bile, blood, some unknown taste that just lingers at the back of the throat, makes the eyes water, and gives the gag reflex a real work out. He's tempted to walk back to his car and drive as far away from the smell as he can get, but Sam's in the room, and if the smell is anything to judge by, Sam is probably unconscious and in desperate need of rescuing.

He hesitates at the door, his right hand reaching for the gun tucked in the back of his pants. He pulls the gun out, takes the safety off, and never one for the subtle approach, he kicks the door in and scopes the room with his gun, only to find a startled Sam leaning over a smoking pot on the lone hot plate in the room and fanning the fumes away from his nose.

"Christ man! The hell's going on? I thought something was dead or dying in here!" Dean snaps.

Sam makes a face and spares a glance at the door. The jamb is cracked, one of the hinges is looser than before, and they are definitely not getting the security deposit back, and this time they'd paid cash.

"Well, Dean, that would be the gall of a wild boar. I was doing some research and I found this spell that's supposed to repel dead things and since we're hunting ghouls and they tend to go for a jugular I thought this might help," he snaps.

"Sammy, that shit is toxic. Dude, what all's in that?" Dean asks as he nears Sam and the smoking pot and glances into it, the sludgy brownish stuff inside bubbling, popping thickly and sizzling, and suddenly Dean's hit with a whiff of honey.

"It's a mixture of gall of a wild boar, attic honey, boneset, angelica root, and dragon's blood resin, and I would have added wormwood, but that actually attracts the dead," Sam replies, "But I know I'm forgetting something."

"Since when have you become Harry Potter? We hunt the supernatural, Sam, we don't play with magic. That shit always screws you over in the end. It's all a bunch of mumbo jumbo anyway. Give me a corpse, some lighter fluid, and salt, and we'll call it a night."

"Salt! Rock salt! That's the final ingredient!" Sam says and then he's taking a handful of salt and looking at it before he gets a pinch between his fingers and drops in pot, which makes an odd belching sound that makes Dean want to hurl.

"And now he's Rachel Ray. God, Sam, you're gonna get us kicked out of here. Not that this is a classy place, but the next motel is twenty-three miles away!" Dean snaps.

"You know you'll thank me when a ghoul thinks twice about snacking on your ass," Sam grumbles and then he's pouring the concoction into a couple of empty beer bottles.

Dean shakes his head and wonders what the hell Sam is thinking, and it better not involve that shit getting anywhere near him or his car, and he knows without a doubt that this hunt, and more importantly, Sam, is going to try his nerves. First having to hunt freaking ghouls! Gross. And now Sam with the hoodoo and really shitty cooking. And gall of a wild boar? Where in the hell did someone find shit like that? Just walk into a super market or one of those big ass Wal-Marts and ask for it? Christ!

By the time they reach the graveyard Dean wonders if the smell will ever die, and then he wonders if there is some way he can kill it. He hopes that if the shit gets heavy his baby won't stall on them if they have to haul ass. As it is, he's petting the steering wheel and telling her it's all Sam's fault. Sam is giving him strange looks in between rolling his eyes and Dean wonders if he even notices the smell or if inhaling the fumes did something to Sam's freak ass brain.

It's on their second walk through of the cemetery that the hair on the back of Dean's neck rises and a twig snaps to his left. He turns to look and all of a sudden something thick and slimy splashes on him and then Sam's yelling at him to get down. Dean drops to the ground as Sam fires a crossbow and he hears the ghoul shrieking behind him.

Sam steps over him, pulls a knife from the sheath at his side and cuts the nasty thing's head off, and then Dean gets this strange feeling. The slimy shit from Sam's potion is seeping through his clothes and it makes his skin tingle and burn and then the stuff seeps through his jeans and he's hard within seconds and swallowing convulsively, because he's never been hard and fully coherent before. Man, this is all fucked up and wrong. He should not be able to think with his dick this hard.

What the hell had Sammy put in that freaking potion?

Dean isn't given much time to think on that as he's attacked from behind. He shifts and tumbles with his attacker until his chest is heaving with all of the activity, and he's staring down into the lust blown eyes of his little brother.

His eyes widen and Sam shifts below him, their crotches colliding and Dean squeezes his eyes shut against the sensations because while this is hot on a seriously high level, this is Sam, and they are brothers.

Sam leans up, struggling to get close and then his lips are rough and demanding against Dean's. Dean wrestles Sam back to the ground and can barely think for all the struggling and thrusting Sam's doing against him.

"Mine, Dean. Come on. You want this. Know you do. Fucking want you. Have to make you mine, want to lick you, bite you, mark you so you'll never forget. Bury my cock so deep inside…" Sam isn't able to finish as Dean rears back his fist and knocks Sam the hell out.

Dean lets out a breath, and groans. He groans for two reasons, the first being that he smells like that nasty shit Sam made, and the second because Sam is going to be a pissy little bitch when he comes to. Oh well the first he can maybe fix with a shower or twenty, and the second, well he can always gag Sam if it gets really bad, or maybe this time he'll get lucky and Sam will fix him with the silent treatment.

He gives the graveyard a cursory glance around, and sensing no immediate danger he gets up, slips his arms beneath Sam's shoulders and drags his brother back to the car, and seriously, Sam really needs to lay off of the doughnuts, cause his bitch ass is heavy.

Once he gets Sam settled and they are on the road he heads to the motel twenty-three miles away. After checking in he hauls Sam's heavy ass into the new room, ties him securely to the bedposts of the bed closest to the bathroom, and then goes to take a shower.

When the water turns cold he figures he smells as descent as he's going to for a while. Oh and Sam is never cooking, like EVER again.

He gets dressed in the t-shirt and jeans he keeps in the back of the Impala for emergencies just like this. He puts his gun in the back of his pants, straps a knife to his leg, and then he gets in the Impala to head back to the motel with their stuff still in it.

It's nearly an hour before he returns to the new motel room with their things, and most importantly Sam's laptop, his second favorite gun, and the rest of their clothes.

He notices that Sam is still out and still tied up. He absently wonders if maybe he should gag Sam before he starts to come to, but figures he'll wait and see if it's the silent treatment or the bitching out he'll be facing. So he boots up Sam's laptop, removes the knife from his leg, puts the gun out on the table to clean it later, hooks up the wireless, and goes through Sam's web browser history.

He isn't all that surprised by the porn. Sam isn't gettin' any, so he's got to get his kicks some where, and then he notices that most of the porn is gay porn and…gang banging? Christ!

He clicks on one of the links and a video loads. He tilts his head to the right and his mouth falls open as he watches this guy deep throat one of the hugest cocks he's ever seen, and the way the guy is holding his head and neck can't be comfortable. Oh hell! He shakes his head to clear it, closes that browser link and continues to scroll down Sam's history, while making a mental note to never let Sammy live this down.

Once he finally bypasses all of the porn he comes across the link to a website that claims to be a book of shadows. His eyes widen as he clicks on the link, "graveyard disciples". Weird name, probably a bunch of emo goth freaks trying to get their kicks by hanging in cemeteries and messing with things that don't have a clue about.

Dean is surprised when the site actually turns out to be on the up and up. He clicks through their introductions and then does a search on their engine to find out all of the uses for the gall of a wild boar, and while the idea of it being a cure for cancer is nice, he bypasses that and then comes across the spell Sammy used to make that nasty ass potion. His eyes widen as he reads over the spell, and then traces it back to it's ancient Greek origins where it was a spell used to eternally bind a lover even in death. Repel dead people his ass! He's going to kill Sam for not reading the fine print. He means it this time.

He takes in a shaky breath, scoots back in the chair and looks down at his crotch. He presses his lips together and then he lets out a long rush of air as he sadly says to his dick, "Well dude, looks like we're stuck with the next thing we fuck. Don't look at me next time we're horny, man. Blame Sam. And no we are not going to kill him in his sleep, we are going to wait until he's awake and then we are going to make it slow and very painful."

There is a groan coming from the direction of the bed and then, "Please tell me that you are not talking to your dick."

"Hey, don't listen to him Little Dean. He's the one that's fucked us over," Dean says with a quick glance back at his crotch.

"Okay man, seriously, what the hell? Why am I tied up? And why… No. I really don't want to know why you're talking to your dick," Sam says with a shake of his head as the muscles in his arms bulge as he pulls against the ropes and Dean's amazing knot work.

Dean gets up and crosses the room to stand by the bed that Sam is tied to. He looks down at his little brother, and suddenly there is a change in Sam and he's struggling harder against the ropes and making strange noises as he wiggles and writhes on the bed and strains closer toward Dean's direction.

"Smell so good. Christ, Dean, untie me. Untie me right the fuck now!" Sam growls out and he arches forward and the bedposts gives a whining creak at the force being exerted against them.

"The fuck I will! How about you tell me why in the hell you doused me with the equivalent of a magical pheromone? You're staying tied up until I know you won't try some shit on me! Besides I'm stuck with the next thing I fuck!" Dean snarls back, "And that shit totally got on my dick too!"

"Want me to lick it clean for you?" Sam asks, suggestion coloring his voice as his tongue swipes across his lips.

Dean actually considers the offer for a moment as his eyes follow the path of Sam's tongue, and he feels Little Dean give a good jolt in his jeans, and then he shudders, coming back to himself.

"Sam, this is not gonna happen. First off, this is a side effect of this stupid damn potion. I mean I know I'm hot and all, but this shit just amplifies my hotness and makes even you want to fuck me, and you're like a living monk or something. So you're gonna stay tied up until I can figure out what the hell I'm gonna do about this shit."

"If you even think of fucking that car, I'll kill you, Dean," Sam growls.

Dean goes stock-still and then narrows his eyes on Sam. "You knew what that shit would do, didn't you? What the fuck, Sam?"

Sam snorts and then a chuckle escapes his parted mouth as he relaxes back onto the bed, and Dean watches as the ropes slowly untie themselves. His mouth falls open as Sam sits up, rubbing the circulation back into his wrists, and before Dean can protest he's being thrown across the room be some unseen force and held spread-eagled against the wall. He swallows, his throat bobbing with the effort as he stares in shock at his baby brother.

"Practice makes perfect, and I've been practicing. A lot. And I know you, Dean. I know things about you that you don't want me to know, and I remember things," Sam says ominously, and then he clears his throat, and Dean knows this is getting bad.

"You call out my name when you come. I hear you when you jack off in the shower, and I remember that time I walked in and you were blowing my lab partner when I was sixteen. He looked a lot like me," Sam manages around a groan as he presses himself against Dean, aligning their cocks, and the back of Dean's head hits the wall as the sensations roll through his body. Sam's voice, his big ass hands on either side of his head, Sam's hard dick pressed against his. It's too much and it's breaking Dean down, and if there's one thing that pisses Dean off, it's breaking him down.

He shifts so that he's glaring at Sam, and Sam is smirking smugly at him. Dean's chest heaves with his growing anger, because Sam knows he's hard and knows what this is doing to him, but he's not going to make this easy. Oh hell no.

"So what. I get horny and I'm around you all the time. There was no one else to think about when you were always underfoot. So I'm a sick fuck! You're only interested because you fucked up some magic spell and threw that nasty shit on me and my dick!" Dean snaps.

Sam pulls back a little and shakes his head with a laugh.

"I knew exactly what I was doing. No more fucking around. No more one night stands. I'm sick of you ignoring me and going home with cheap tramps. I'm right here, Dean, I have been for a while now. I'm your home, and you belong to me, and now you're gonna stop running," Sam says and then he darts forward and he's kissing Dean and the force holding Dean against the wall evaporates.

As Sam's tongue slips into his mouth Dean shoves against Sam's chest and then he grabs Sam's arm and flips him down on his stomach, wrenching Sam's arm back. He leans down, his breath hot against Sam's ear as he growls, "This isn't a game. You made sure it was for fucking keeps. The next person I fuck is it. I'm theirs forever. What makes you think I want it to be you?"

Sam stiffens beneath him, and then bucks him off, and that same force that knocked him against the wall, drags him squirming and struggling to the bed and holds him down against the mattress. He writhes and fights against the unseen force and glares at Sam.

"I'm the only one you trust with eternity, and you know it. And like I said, I'd kill you if you even thought of fucking that car to break the spell. You're mine," Sam hisses, as he crawls up on the bed and covers Dean's body with his.

Dean sucks in a breath and goes still, his sharp green eyes locking with Sam's. "Don't I at least get a say in this?"

"You've had your say, and I'm horny, you're horny. Talk's over. I'm gonna fuck you now," Sam replies, and then leans down, his teeth scraping Dean's jaw a moment, and then he's sharply biting his way along Dean's throat. When his mouth encounters Dean's shirt he grunts and then Dean hears the sound of ripping cloth and Sam's warm mouth is against his bare shoulder, licking and biting, and Dean's head falls back at the sensations, his neck straining as he groans.

"Been waiting a long time for you to get your head out of your stubborn ass. Wanted to take what's mine. Taste ever inch of you, mark you. Anything so you'd know who you belong to. Thought about my dick between those cock-sucking lips of yours for years. So fucking pretty, and so fucking mine. You know that now, don't you Dean? Tell me you know it," Sam hisses in between licks and punishing bites.

"Sammy," Dean manages in a weak whine, and he's almost ashamed that he's been reduced to this.

"Got better uses for that mouth in mind, Dean. You gonna play nice or am I going to have to show you what you want?" Sam asks, pulling away, but there's the phantom sensation of fingers curling around Dean's hips, slipping beneath his jeans, but Sam's hands are accounted for because they are on either side of the bed next to Dean's head.

Dean's hips jolt forward at the feel of something slipping between the crack of his ass and teasing his entrance. Sam leans down, nips Dean's ear with his teeth and then breathes, "You will take me first. That's how the spell works, and then you're mine. No one else, just fucking me for the rest of our lives, hell, for the rest of eternity. I've been inside your head Dean. I know for a fact that you want this. I'm asking you to give in. Take something for yourself for once. I'm here. I'm ready. I fucking want you, man."

Sam grinds down against Dean and Dean gasps and groans, because all of this friction and these fucking hands that are there but not there are driving him crazy. He is a man, flesh and blood, and while he hates admitting it, he knows he's weak, but all things considered, this is a pretty damn good time to be weak. Just this once of course. Little Dean seems to agree.

Dean struggles against the force holding him beneath Sam, and growls out, "Dammit Sam! Let me go right the fuck now!"

Sam leans down, his lips brushing Dean's as he speaks, "Promise to play nice, big brother?"

"Fuck you!"

Sam pulls back with a smirk, and he wonders absently when Sam started smirking. "Oh, that's the idea."

The invisible hands pull back and then it's just Sam's hands on him. Finally free, Dean shoves Sam back and rolls them over so that he's back on top of Sam. Dean leans over Sam with a cocky smirk and says, "Never thought you'd be a talker, Sammy."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Dean. Dare you to find out," Sam says, a challenge peppering his voice.

Dean pulls what's left of his shirt off, and tosses it to the side, and then his mouth is on Sam's, because if he's going to hell anyway he might as well enjoy the ride.

He jerks Sam's shirt up and mouths his way down Sam's chest, lapping playfully at Sam's nipples, and then planting his teeth firmly over the part of Sam's left hip that just can't seem to hold his jeans up right, not that it will matter much since Dean is focused on getting his little brother out of those jeans. His fingers make quick work of the button and zipper on Sam's jeans and then he's working the jeans and boxers down Sam's long legs, Sam's cock springing free to curve wantonly toward his stomach.

Dean crawls up Sam's body like a big cat, the muscles in his shoulders and back rippling with his graceful, predatory movements, his hand curls firmly around Sam's cock and his eyes lock with Sam's gaze as his tongue flickers across the head of his younger brother's dick. Salty mingled with a little bitter and a little sweet, and something that's that familiar Sam scent in taste form.

He opens his mouth wide, his tongue curling around Sam's dick as he takes it as far into his mouth as his gag reflex will allow and as he pulls back his tongue traces along the throbbing vein on the underside of Sam's cock. Sam trembles, his tongue flickering across his lips and Dean grins around a mouthful of Sam.

There's an invisible nudge against his shoulder and he narrows his eyes in annoyance at Sam until he realizes that a floating bottle of lubricant is what's doing the nudging. A flood of images of his fingers up Sam's ass pop up in his mind and he groans at the intrusion and then gives Sam a wide eyed look before he caves and says, "Fine, I get it. You're the bitch. You didn't really have to remind me of it though."

Dean pulls back and shifts a little, coats his fingers with the oily substance and without a bit of preamble shoves a finger up Sam's hole. Sam jerks violent and glares at Dean. "There's a reason it's called preparation Asshole!"

"Hey, I only know the mechanics. Feel free to pass along a few tips if you don't like how I'm handling it," Dean snaps.

He wonders if Sam is actually going to sulk now of all times, because that's putting Little Dean off of his game.

He gets a few mental images and takes it slower, adding more lube and a second finger once he feels Sam start to loosen up, which is a nice change of pace. Sam loosening up. It's kind of funny, and then Dean finds this spot inside of his little brother that makes Sam give an ungodly yell and nearly come up off the bed. He hits that spot a second time and then adds a third finger.

Sam's hands are clawing the sheets and his toes are curling, his head thrown back and then he growls, "For Christ's sakes, fuck me already!"

Dean pours out some more of the oil and begins to slicken up when something small smacks him in the forehead and drops onto Sam's stomach. He sighs, unwraps the condom, and then puts the lube over the latex before he looks down at Sam as if to ask if this position will work. Sam sends him another mental image and Dean is satisfied with that line of questioning as he pulls Sam's body up his thighs, puts the blunt end of his cock at Sam's entrance and slowly works his way inside.

Sam stiffens a little, his spine rigid and Dean pauses. Dean is surprised when Sam takes the initiative and lowers himself the rest of the way onto his older brother. Dean groans because Sam is hot and tight, and God he wants more and there's something flooding over his senses, and as he manages to open his eyes to look at Sam he realizes that they're glowing, a faint golden color, like honey.

He can't take much more, so he pulls out and thrusts in again, hitting that spot inside of Sam, and it isn't long before they find a rhythm that's oddly rough and gentle, and promising and possessive and Dean can't imagine anything being better than this. Slick and hard, wrapped tight in his brother's ass, and then he leans down, his mouth meeting Sam's in a clashing of tongue and teeth as his hand wraps around Sam's cock, tight and firm as he works Sam over in time with his thrusting.

Dean feels the tightening in his stomach and groin, feels everything building inside him as the glowing around his body and Sam's grows brighter, almost blinding. He pulls back, his hips rocking hard up into Sam's ass as his hand quickens its pace. He pulls away and arches up, a roar parting his lips as he comes buried deep inside of his brother. His cock twitches again and again with his release and he wonders if maybe the force of his orgasm is enough to break the damn condom. It really wouldn't surprise him.

As he begins to regain his senses he feels Sam's cock twitch in his hand and Sam is arching up against the bed, come shooting across his stomach and Dean's hand, and its one of the hottest thing's Dean's ever seen, and he's seen a lot of shit in his lifetime.

He carefully pulls out of Sam and collapses next to his baby brother, panting as his lungs try to work their way back to breathing normally. Sam slips an arm around Dean, and usually Dean's not into post-coital cuddling unless it's a special occasion, but this is about as special as it gets so he'll relent…this once.

Dean sighs. "At least you didn't douse me with something all girly smelling," he says, then sniffs and pulls a face as a whiff of honey invades his nostrils. "Well fuck me, you did make me smell all girly!"

Sam snickers and replies, "Already did, bitch."

Dean rolls his eyes and snorts. "You were the bitch, bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean smirks, knowing he's won this round as he shifts closer to the warmth of Sam's body and drifts off to sleep, peaceful for the first time in a long time. Sam's still got a long way to go in making this up to him, but Dean's got ideas on how Sam can work it out.

End.