Graveyard Digger, Coffin Case Sinner

The Farther I Fall (I'm Beside You)

Sometimes Sam thinks they're both unhinged.

It's a thought that flits through his mind as his brother is shoving him back against a wall and putting a knife against his chest, just to the left of the letters - 'DEAN' - carved over his heart. It's a thought that's present as his brother slides the blade, oh so carefully, down his pec, one careful, precise cut.

It's there as Dean leans in to lick up the blood that begins to trickle from the wound, before pressing his mouth against it and sucking at it.

It's still lingering, somewhere in the back of his mind, when he gets off on the pain and the bloodplay and the feel of his brother's mouth and hands on him.

It teases him later, when he's lying in bed with Dean, the other man practically wrapped around him, lying on his side with a leg over his and his arm around Sam's waist. You're 23 years old, and your only real relationship has been with your own brother, it whispers to him, Your brother the serial killer.

He can't deny the thought, because it's the truth. It doesn't mean it bothers him, because it doesn't. He counters one thought with another, 'I've been in a 10 year long relationship with this man who would kill for me, and I love him more than life itself so fuck you', and the first thought, the one that tells him they're both mad as hatters, flickers away. If they're both unhinged, stark mad, fucked up beyond all recognition, so be it. He can deal with that, as long as he's with Dean.

Sam's gaze shifts to Dean as the other man murmurs, "What are you thinking about?" His brother's green eyes are on him, watching him as always, and he smiles and tightens his own hold on the other.

"You," he answers honestly, "and me," Dean smiles at that, and Sam's heart is overwhelmed with how much he loves this man, "and how we're pretty much perfect together."

"You are perfect," Dean shifts to lay his head on Sam's chest, and Sam knows he's listening to his heartbeat, "Most beautiful, perfect thing in the whole world, my Sammy."

"You know how much I love you, Dean?" he cards his fingers through Dean's short hair as he asks. He loves the feel of Dean. In his arms, inside him, even just in his proximity.

"I know how much," the older man raises up to look at him, shifts forward to brush their mouths together, "I know you'd burn the world down around us if I asked it."

Sometimes, he thinks they're both a bit mad. When those thoughts begin to surface, Sam just holds tighter to his brother.