rivers_bend

Title: Five times Dean didn't suck Sam and one time he did (Part 2/6)
Words: ~4,000
Rating: Adult (explicit sex)
Genre: Slash (and implied pre-slash of the wincest variety if you lean that way)
Characters: Sam (15), Dean (19) / OMC, John
Spoilers? None
Disclaimer and A/N as above. Plus, this is for lima_sierra who wanted Sam in hospital and when Dean finds out he's ok, he sneaks off to a supply closet with the hot male nurse.
Summary: 'I'll just be out at the nurses' station if you need me.' Jason nodded a goodbye to John and once he had his back to him, winked at Dean again. It was harder this time to write it off as anything other than: I think you're hot, we could spend some time together if you'd like.

previously: Part 1


Two

'Sam, you coming or what?' Dean had told him three times that they were doing training this afternoon and Sam said, 'Sure,' every time, but he didn’t seem to be getting a move on.

'I just need to study.'

'Yeah, you do. Hand to hand combat. Get out here.'

'For this history test. It's tomorrow.'

'Well this test is this afternoon. I haven't got all day. I said I'd go to work tonight. They've got a '66 Mustang coming in.'

'But-'

'No buts. You keep telling Dad you want to come with us, but you won't do any training. What are we supposed to do here?'

'Fine. Whatever.' Sam threw his text book onto the floor and stormed out to the porch. Dean was a little taken aback to notice they stood eye to eye now. He found himself getting out of Sam's way.

Dad had a friend with a farm near the Iowa/South Dakota border. They'd spent most of the school year there while Don was down in South America. Plenty to hunt in a day or two's drive, three bedrooms so Dean didn't have to share with the bundle of hormones, and rent-free, so long as they kept squatters out of the barn. It was six miles to town, but they couldn't have everything.

Sam stalked to the middle of the grassy yard and stood with his hands on his hips waiting for Dean.

'Defend, or attack?' Dean asked. 'Your choice.'

'I don't care.' Christ, but Sam was a sulky bastard today.

'Fine.' Crouching low, Dean ran at Sam from the side, knocking him onto the ground. Sam twisted as they fell, landing next to Dean instead of under him, and then rolled so he had Dean pinned. He was getting better. Dean looked at Sam's face. Or maybe he was just really pissed off.

Dean used his weight to break the pin. Sam might be as tall as him now, but Dean still had more muscle. Sam tried to punch him, telegraphing the move with his whole torso. After Dean blocked the punch, he rolled Sam onto his back and pinned his arms. 'You can't wind up like that.' Sam was wiggling, trying to throw him off, and Dean tightened his grip on Sam's wrists to get his attention. 'Sure, you need the power from your shoulder, but you have to think the power. Not use your whole body to show your opponent what you're gonna do.'

Dean thought he was being helpful, but Sam clearly disagreed. 'Fuck off,' he growled, twisting his wrists in Dean's grasp.

Confused, Dean let go. He knew Sam was in a bad mood, but they usually managed to get through training without it turning into some big drama. He only realized that he was still pinning Sam down with his hips when Sam started pushing at his chest. 'Get off me!' Sam looked almost panicked.

'Sammy, what the fuck?' Dean shifted, his thigh brushing against Sam's very hard cock. 'I – shit. Sorry.' Dean hastily stood up. Which confused him even more. Because generally he would just tease Sam, laugh it off. For god's sake, they were brothers. They'd spent most of their lives sharing a room and half their lives sharing a bed. But the look on Sam's face… Dean felt himself getting hot.

Standing with his back to Sam was a mistake. Dean was staring at a tree on the edge of the lawn when Sam crashed into him from behind. Without thinking, Dean tucked and rolled, using Sam's momentum to send him flying. Head first into the tree. Where he lay in a crumpled heap.

'Sam!' Dean was at his side with no awareness of having moved. 'Sammy, fuck, talk to me!' He wasn't moving at all, no fluttering eyelashes, only the barest hint of breath shifting his chest. 'Jesus Christ. Sam, don’t do this to me. Please.'

Nothing.

Gently as he could, Dean checked for fractures on Sam's skull and neck, just like Dad had taught him. Which made him realize, he had no idea what he was doing. A lot like breaking down a gun, theory and practice were not all that related. There was no reaction to his poking or prodding. Sam's breathing was so shallow that Dean had to get right down next to his nose to even know he was breathing at all.

Fuck not getting other people involved. Fuck no health insurance. He was calling 911.

The ambulance seemed to take forever to get there, though Dean had looked at the clock on his phone about a million times and it was only eleven minutes. Just as well the hospital was on the west side of town. There was no change in Sam the whole time Dean was waiting.

The paramedics were only a couple years older than Dean, a guy and a girl. They were both nice enough to look away while he wiped the tears off his face. If Sammy didn't wake up…

They had Sam in a neck brace and onto a back board by the time Dean got his shit together. He held Sam's hand all the way to the hospital.

The desk Nazis were on him like a rash as soon as the medics started wheeling Sam past their station. Dean was prepared though. Dad made sure they had a good card and matching ID in the back of their wallets just in case this ever happened. Nearly flying apart with impatience, Dean filled out the forms they shoved at him. Finally he was released to go and see what the hell was happening with his stupid fucking clumsy-ass brother.

Sam was already back from x-ray by the time Dean got to the room where they were working on him. One advantage of a small town hospital. Not so much in the way of clientele. A woman in a white coat was looking at pictures of Sam's skull and spine on a light box. She looked about forty, tall, curvy and with her hennaed hair cut in a sharp bob. She had a big city doctor look about her that somehow made Dean feel better.

'What's – is he going to be okay?' Dean took a deep breath, hoping that would still the wobble in his voice.

The smile she gave him was tight and practiced. 'I don’t see any breaks anywhere, and there's no obvious sign of bleeding. His vitals are all stable, but he's not regained consciousness yet. Can you tell me what happened?'

Dean had really been hoping to avoid this part. 'He hit his head on a tree.'

'On a tree? How did he come to do that?'

Of course. She wanted particulars. Nosy bitch. 'We were wrestling. He took me by surprise and – I kind of…' Dean didn't really remember exactly what happened. 'I rolled him off me and he hit the tree.' His dad was going to fucking kill him.

'Dean?'

The word was barely a whisper, but it captured his attention immediately. 'Sam!' Dean was across the room and at Sam's side before the doctor had time to take the two steps from the light box. Dean held Sam's hand while the doctor shone a light in his eyes and asked him questions about the president and the day of the week. She seemed satisfied with what she found.

'Dean, my head hurts,' Sam said, once she'd stopped poking him.

'I know, Sammy. You hit it on a tree.'

'What'd you hit me with a tree for?'

'I didn't hit you with a tree. I hit a tree with your head.' Dean felt like vomiting when he remembered the horrible crunch it had made. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Don't… Don' do it again.' Sam's eyes started to drift shut.

'Doctor?' Dean panicked as Sammy seemed to be slipping away. She stopped writing on the chart and turned back to them.

'Sam?' Her voice was sharp. Sam opened his eyes.

'Sleepy,' he said.

'I know,' the doctor answered. 'But stay awake a little longer for us, okay?' She looked at Dean. 'We're getting him a room upstairs for the night. He was unconscious for quite a while. We need to keep him in for observation.'

Dad was definitely going to kill him.

'But he's going to be alright? I mean, he's awake now and everything.'

'I expect he'll be fine. But we need to make sure.' She looked at Sam, who was watching them wearily. 'I'll go and get a nurse to arrange a room. I'll send someone in when we know where he's going.' She took the chart with her when she left the room.

Dean was about to berate Sam for scaring him when his phone started ringing. 'Iz'zat Dad?' Sam sounded a little better.

'Dad?' It was best to get this over with, though Dean wanted more than anything to press the disconnect button and send the call to voicemail.

'Where the hell are you boys? I'm standing here looking at your car, and you're nowhere to be found.'

'He's ok,' get that out first. 'But Sam hit his head. We're at the hospital.'

'How badly did he hit his head?' He sounded more worried than mad. For now.

'He was unconscious for a while. But he's awake now. He's asking for you.' Sam frowned at him. He and dad hadn't exactly been getting along lately.

'Well, I'll be right there. Where are you?'

'We're still in the ER, but they need to admit him overnight, so we're going to the ward soon.'

'Did you use the Bowen IDs?'

'Yes, sir, 'course I did.'

'Alright then. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes.'

Dean was glad that Dad didn't shout at him over the phone, but he wasn't looking forward to the interview in person in which he'd have to admit how Sam came to hit his head in the first place. It was his responsibility to keep Sam safe, there was no excuse for what happened. He should have been paying more attention. There was plenty of room in the clearing, they needn't have been so close to the trees anyway. Hunting was dangerous enough without Sam getting hurt by his own brother.

Cold fingers on the back of his neck broke Dean out of his reverie and made him realize that he had his forehead resting on the blankets next to Sam's hip.

'Not your fault.' Sam sounded so tired. Dean looked at him, concerned, but his eyes were open and focused.

'Course it's my fault.' When Dean sat up Sam's hand slid down Dean's arm to rest on his wrist. Laying his other hand over Sam's, Dean rubbed gently, trying to warm him up.

'I-' Sam was interrupted by the door opening and two nurses pushing a bed into the room. They were an unlikely pair. A girl who looked about twelve, five feet tall at the most - and that was in her crepe-soled shoes and with a white-blonde ponytail high on her head - came first, steering the foot-end. The guy pushing the head end was six five at least. He was laughing, pushing his brown hair out of his eyes with one huge hand.

'We've done this backwards again,' he said to the other nurse. 'That's the trouble with you being so short.'

'I'm perfectly normal, you're the freak.' Her voice and her laugh were full, not the tinkling whisper Dean was expecting from the size of her.

'Hello, I'm Jason, this is Helen. We'll be your flight crew for today.'

'Um. Dean,' Dean said. 'This is Sammy.'

'Sam.' Sam's glare quickly turned into a grimace, and he put a hand to his head.

'Hey, Sam, nice to meet you.' Jason abandoned the bed and came around to Sam's other side. 'How's the head feeling?'

'Not so good.'

'I tell you what. It's a lot quieter up on my ward than down in this crazy place, and it'll be supper time soon. I think there's French fries on the menu tonight. D'ya like French fries?'

'Yeah, I guess.' Sam didn’t sound very enthusiastic, but his smile was genuine.

'Good. Now, our job is to get you off that bed and onto this one. You don’t have to do any work, me and Helen here are going to slide you right across. Okay?'

'I can do it myself,' Sam said.

'No offence, but we'd rather not have to clean up any puke today. Sometimes when you've hit your head, if you start sitting up and jiggling around you spew. Bet you go to the high school, yeah?'

'Yeah.' Sam sounded like he wondered what that had to do with puking.

'I remember the food in the cafeteria there. It looked enough like vomit before you ate it. If it's all the same to you, I don't want to see what it looks like afterwards.'

While Jason had been talking, Helen had turned the bed around so it faced the right way. 'I'm sorry,' she said to Dean. 'Can I move you, and the chair, so we can do this?'

'Sure. Sorry.' Dean felt flustered for some reason. A feeling not in the least diminished by Jason winking at him.

The move upstairs was accomplished smoothly, Jason explaining in the elevator that they were going to the pediatric ward, not because they thought Sam was a little kid, but because there were more nurses on duty there today and because he was under seventeen they had the choice. 'You have a roommate, but he's sixteen, so you won't have to share with any little kids.'

The chair by Sam's bed was much more comfortable than the one in the emergency room, though Dean didn't get a chance to try it out for long. Jason had only just made sure Sam could reach his water and the call bell when John walked into the room.

'Boys,' he said. He was still dressed in his hunting clothes, jeans muddy and a tear in the sleeve of his jacket.

Sam answered first. 'Dad, I'm ok.'

'I'm sorry,' Dean said.

'Mr Bowen?' Jason was the only one who didn't sound uncomfortable. 'I'm Jason, the nurse assigned to look after Sam until this evening. If you have any questions I'm happy to answer them or get the doctor to see you.'

'Thank you,' John said, shaking the proffered hand, his eyes already turning to his son's hospital bed.

'I'll just be out at the nurses' station if you need me.' Jason nodded a goodbye to John and once he had his back to him, winked at Dean again. It was harder this time to write it off as anything other than I think you're hot, we could spend some time together if you'd like. Not a look Dean had gotten from a guy since they left Chicago. Rural Iowa was not exactly a hot-bed of back alley blow jobs. Not anywhere Dean had looked anyway. Not that he'd exactly been looking. Because interested girls? Easier to come by. And in. And on one memorable occasion, on. Not that he needed to be thinking about that sitting next to his brother's hospital bed with his dad standing like four feet away.

Dean wished his dad would pull up the other chair, stop looming over him, but that wasn't John Winchester's style. 'How'd this happen, Dean?'

Before Dean could answer, Sam started talking. 'Dean was trying to do some training, like you asked, but I wasn't paying attention. I ended up going headfirst into a tree.'

'Dean?'

'He came at me, I rolled him. We shouldn't have been so close to the tree.'

'It was my fault we were over there. It just – it wasn't Dean's fault, sir.'

John frowned at Sam. 'Do I look like I'm angry with your brother, Sammy?'

'I don't – no, I guess not.'

'I'm worried about you. And you boys both need to be more careful. But sometimes you get hurt.' He finally sat. 'Dean did the right thing. A head injury you don't wake up from is nothing to mess around with.'

Dean nearly slid off his chair with relief. He was pretty sure Dad was going to blame him for Sam getting hurt, but he'd been one hundred percent positive that Dad was going to ream him out over bringing Sam to the hospital. No hospitals was pretty high up on the list of Winchester family rules.

Suddenly he remembered that he was supposed to go into work tonight. He wasn't leaving Sam, not til they kicked him out, but he had to call in and let them know he wasn't coming. 'Dad, Sam, I gotta call work. I was supposed to go in tonight.'

'You can go,' John said. 'I'll stay with Sammy.'

'No way. We're both staying. They don't need me; Bob'll be glad to get a chance to work on a '66 'stang.' Sam looked relieved. 'I'm just gonna call from outside. I don't think you're supposed to use phones in here.' When he got to the door, he saw the dinner cart coming. 'Maybe get some food too. D'ya want anything, Dad?'

'Maybe some coffee, a sandwich if there's anything.'

When Dean got out into the hall, he couldn’t remember which direction to turn to get to the elevators. The nurses' station was visible to the left however, and he saw Jason standing there on the phone. He nodded at Dean and held up a finger. Another word or two and he hung up.

'Dean. Hey, how's Sam?'

'He's fine. I just -' Dean held up his phone. 'I needed to make a phone call, and I was going to get some food.'

'I was just about to go on my dinner break. Want me to come with you? Show you the cafeteria?' Dean wondered for a minute what about him made Jason figure it was safe to ask the question with such blatant invitation in his eyes. Maybe the guy was just brave. Or being half a head taller and half again as broad as the next guy made him feel invincible. Whatever it was, it did nothing to diminish his appeal.

Smiling an answer got Dean an even bigger smile in return. He wondered if being a nurse made you think things like the rush he was feeling down deep in his guts was a loss of circulating blood volume, and then he wondered if that was even true, and then his brain just shut down, because Jason brushed his fingers on the small of his back to turn him towards the elevators and the rush was a tidal wave. So, yeah. Sammy had Dad to keep him company, and neither of them would miss him for a while.

The elevator seemed huge without a bed in it, but Jason was standing practically right on top of him anyway. 'So,' he said. 'Do you want to take a detour?'

God, he was tall. And big. And really fucking hot. Especially when he did that half smile thing with the dimples, and licked his lips, and had his hip cocked just that way… 'Detour?' Dean felt the need for a drink. Water, whiskey, anything.

'This is completely unprofessional, and I definitely shouldn't be doing this, but if you want… ' He looked at Dean, who found himself nodding. 'I have the keys to the equipment library.'

Dean would have been quite happy to pull the emergency stop button on the elevator and sink to his knees right there. The equipment library sounded great.

There was a drinking fountain just outside the elevator doors. Dean watched gratefully as Jason stopped to drink, and not just because it gave him a great view of the guy's ass. Figuring if Jason stopped he could too, Dean slaked his thirst. 'This way,' Jason said, tugging at the hem of Dean's shirt.

The library was more of a closet, with shelves on either side of the door holding all sorts of medical equipment that might have looked interesting had Jason not grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and kissed him as soon as the door was shut.

Dean was used to feeling big and strong, but as Jason pushed him up against the door, used the cant of his hips and the span of his hands to hold him there, leant down to kiss him, Dean felt small. Almost tiny. He found he kinda liked it. Not that he was gonna go broadcast the info or anything.

The vibration against his thigh just before his phone rang scared Dean nearly out of his skin. Jason backed away and let him fumble for his phone. 'Hello?'

'Dean?' It was Bob. 'Where the hell are you?'

'Bob, shit. Sorry. Sammy's in the hospital. I'm here. I was gonna call, but things got kinda crazy.'

'Sammy? Is he okay?'

'Yeah. Bump on the head. I think it's just a concussion or something. I'm not gonna make it tonight though. Sorry I didn’t call.'

'Hey, Dean. That's okay. Just take care'a Sam. We'll see you soon.'

Dean was nothing if not quick, and by the time Jason realized that he'd hung up his phone, it was back in his pocket and he was spinning Jason 'round so it was his back to the door. It had been nearly a year since he'd had a cock in his mouth and he saw no reason to wait any longer.

'Oh! I – um…' Jason was obviously taken aback by Dean getting down on his knees and tugging at the knot of his scrubs.

'This okay?' Dean asked as he pulled the loose pants low on Jason's thighs.

'It's great. I was going to – you, I mean, I thought, but no, that's fine.'

'Good.' Dean tugged at Jason's boxers, freeing him to Dean's tongue.

Jason had a musky smell mixed with hospital, a strangely compelling combination of sweaty and aggressively clean. Dean buried his nose in the fur on Jason's belly, sniffing, darting his tongue out to taste. Jason rested a hand on the back of his neck, not guiding, just present, and the other hand on Dean's shoulder. His dick was a heavy weight against Dean's cheek.

Pulling back enough to watch Jason's face, Dean slid a hand up his length and back down, held it still so he could lick it. Jason shut his eyes, tipped his head back against the door. His appreciative hum as Dean used his lips and tongue to map the head of his cock made Dean smile. That, right there, was what he loved. Pulling those almost unconscious noises out of someone with the heat of his mouth.

Jason was not a disappointment on that front, shoving his forearm between his teeth to muffle the noises he made as Dean bobbed and sucked, licked, kissed, and took him as deep into his throat as he could. The squeak of rubber soled shoes and rattling dinner carts passing made Dean hotter still, with the idea that someone might wonder who was so good that Jason couldn't help the moaning noises he was making. Dean reached into his jeans with the hand not wrapped around the base of Jason's cock.

'No,' Jason said roughly. 'I want – fuck – my… I want to…' He tried to gesture with his hand, but it was more a feeble wave. Dean caught his meaning though. Jason liked cock too, and didn’t want Dean doing his job for him.

The thought of that almost made Dean lose it, but he held on. Instead, he used his free hand to cup Jason's balls, pressed his fingers into the crack of his ass.

'Fuck, I'm – ' That was all the warning Dean got.

Jason hardly gave him time to swallow before pulling Dean up and kissing him, ravishing his mouth. 'God, I want to taste you,' the words mumbled against Dean's lips. Agile for someone who'd just come, Jason pushed off the door and put Dean in his place up against it, his fingers undoing the buttons of Dean's fly as he did so.

'My turn,' he said, grinning up at Dean as he knelt between his feet.

Part 3