Work Text:
Title: Paradise by the Dashboard Light
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sam has a headache, so Dean decides to stop for a bit.
Disclaimer: They're not mine, but if they were, that Impala would be a lot dirtier.
Dean knew Sam had a headache. He figured it out about 5 miles before, when Sam had started rubbing his eyes, and mumbled something about an aspirin. Dean didn’t know why though. He assumed it had something to do with lack of sleep, or maybe Sam had bumped his head.
Dean was wrong.
Turns out Sam could only take so much “mullet rock” before he cracked. Sam opened one eye, rolled it in disgust at Dean humming along to…what was it this time? Run to the Hills by Iron Maiden. Sam sighed, then as unobvious as he could, reached down to the radio and pressed stop.
“Dude!” Dean yelled the second the music stopped. He slapped Sam’s hands away, then pressed play again.
“Hand slapping, Dean?” Sam raised an eyebrow as he rubbed the sore fingers. “Hand slapping? What are you, three?”
“You don’t mess with a man’s radio Sammy. Do it again, and I’ll break your fingers.” Dean sighed, then begin drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
Then something happened that caused Sam to cringe. Dean was singing. And not very well.
“We fought him hard, we fought him well! Out on the plains, we gave him hell!” Dean actually wasn’t singing, he was shouting. At the top of his lungs, disregarding the fact that Sam could barely think his head was pounding so hard.
“Dean, please,” he muttered softly. Sam was obviously in pain; he had brought his knees up to his chest, his head resting on his knees. He was unconsciously rocking back and forth, trying anything to make his head stop pounding. “Dean.”
Dean finally glanced over at his brother, and stopped shouting. “Sammy, you okay?”
Sam shook his head a little. “It hurts. Just, just stop with the metal for awhile, ‘kay?”
Dean nodded, then reached over and pressed stop. “You wanna pull over for a little bit, just till you feel a little better?”
“Sure,” he replied, almost inaudibly.
“Okay, cool little bro. Lemme just find someplace to pull over.”
Seeing as how it was night, and Dean had never been in this particular part Arizona before, he really had no idea where he was going, so it took him a couple more minutes to find a safe place to pull the car over. The only sounds in the music-free car were Sam groaning in pain every once in awhile.
“Here, Sam, we’ll stay here till morning, okay?” Dean had pulled onto a tiny dirt road and while hoping it didn’t lead to some redneck’s hideout, found a small clearing, barely bigger than the car, to park in.
Sam lifted his head up slowly, and looked around. “Yeah, okay.”
“Maybe you just need sleep Sammy,” Dean suggested. “Come here. Undo your seatbelt, then lay back onto me.”
Sam pushed his feet back onto the floor, then undid his seat belt, then pushed his entire body up onto the seat. Then slowly, he leaned back onto Dean’s waiting form, laying in-between the spread legs. Sam hadn’t noticed Dean lay back against the door like that, but he glad he did. Sam’s legs were too long, so he curled up onto his side, his head just under Dean’s chin.
“Comfy?” Dean asked softly as he breathed in the scent of Sam’s brown locks.
Sam just murmured in response as he snuggled even closer.
Dean gulped, then absentmindedly began running his fingers up and down Sam’s jacketed arm. Dean knew Sam wasn’t asleep, hell, he probably wasn’t even tired, but everybody needs to rest their eyes once in awhile. Dean began drifting off until he realized Sam had a little- ‘well, big’ Dean thought- something poking him in the side.
“Shit,” he muttered softly. ‘Don’t move, just don’t move’, he thought. ‘As if we’re not screwed up enough as it is’.
“Jesus, Dean,” Sam said, a lot louder than he had been saying anything the past little while. He sat up, then turned to look at his brother. “That’s nice, Dean. Tell me you were picturing somebody else, anybody else, on your lap.”
Dean couldn’t see the blush, but he could feel it, covering his face. “It’s uh, well, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “So you’re not getting off on me laying on you?”
“Okay, so it is what you thought.” Dean tried to smile, but it seemed to just make the whole situation weirder. “I don’t know Sammy, it just, I can’t really control it, and you being in such a close vicinity to me…Sorry?”
“Don’t be sorry, Dean,” Sam replied softly. “It uh, it happens to me sometimes too. An increasing amount of sometimes, actually.”
Dean automatically dropped his eyes down to Sam’s groin, where he noticed the jeans were getting a little tight too, then shyly brought them back up to meet Sam’s. “So, uh, what do we do? I mean, if we do anything.”
“Do we do something?” Sam asked, innocence shining through as he bit his lip.
“We should, we should. To see what happens, if we like it, if-”
Dean’s rant was cut short by Sam suddenly straddling his hips, and Sam’s mouth covering his. He moaned, and brought his hands up behind Sam, entangling them into his hair, pulling him closer. Sam’s insistent hands on his jacket caused him to sit up and peel his jacket off, tossing it into the back seat. He broke the kiss apart only to pull his t-shirt over his head.
Before he could get Sam’s off, Sam was already bent down, undoing Dean’s belt and pulling the zipper down. Dean lifted his hips obediently as Sam pulled on the jeans and the blue boxers. Dean was suddenly aware of his complete nudity, and decided he wanted Sam to join him. He pushed the much-nicer-than-his jacket off his brother’s shoulders.
Sam grasped the hem of the flimsy shirt and lifted it over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He rolled off Dean completely then undid his own belt and jeans. It was awkward getting the jeans and boxers off, seeing as he could only get up so high before he smacked his head, but he did manage. He kicked them off onto the floor, then immediately went back to smothering Dean with kisses.
He ground their groins together, causing Dean to moan loudly. “Shit, Sammy,” he panted.
Sam placed two fingers at Dean’s mouth, and as he sucked on them hungrily, Sam leaned down to Dean’s ear. “It’s Sam.” He abruptly pulled the fingers out of Dean’s mouth, which caused Dean to moan with loss.
Sam took a deep breath before he carefully slid one finger into Dean. He could feel Dean hold his gasp in, so he leaned down to distract him with a kiss as he slowly worked his finger in and out. Sam soon added a second finger, scissoring them to get Dean ready. He scraped a finger across Dean’s prostate, and Dean bucked his hips upward. Sam broke the kiss when he pulled his fingers out, then spit in his hand. He moaned as he lubed himself up, squeezing his eyes shut. He lined his cock up with Dean’s loosened entrance, then slowly slid home.
Dean gasped in pain as he writhed beneath Sam. “Shit,” pant, “Sammy,” moan, “move.” He wrapped his long legs around Sam’s hips, bringing him in closer.
Sam smiled down at his brother as he slid almost all the way out, then slammed back in.
“Jesus!” Dean screamed. Tears of pain and pleasure were running down his face as Sam slammed back in again. And again. And again. Then when Sam reached down between them and grasped Dean’s leaking cock, he clamped his hands onto Sam’s biceps, sure to bruise. Sam timed his strokes on the offbeat of his thrusts; stroke, in, stroke, out, stroke, in, stroke, out. Soon, a lot sooner than Dean would’ve liked, the pleasure was too overwhelming and he groaned his release.
Sam could feel the muscles clamping even harder around his cock, and after two more thrusts, he came deep inside Dean. He collapsed breathlessly onto Dean’s chest, unable or unwilling to hold himself up.
Dean felt around on the floor for one of the t-shirts that had been discarded. He wiped the drying cum off his and Sam’s stomachs, then dropped the shirt back to the floor. He wrapped his arms around Sam, then snuggled more comfortably into the seats. “How’s your head feel?”
“My headache’s gone,” Sam replied happily.
“Good, then you can drive tomorrow.” Dean looked down at Sam’s wondering eyes. “My ass is killing me.”