Chapter Text
“Where’d you learn that?” Dean asks as they walk down the driveway to the street, where the Impala is parked.
“Online. I did some reading while you were asleep last night. I found the spell and memorised it, just in case. Luckily, it wasn’t complicated, just repetitive.”
“Well, whatever, dude; three witch spirits down.”
When they reach the car, Dean leans his arms on the roof. “Hey, Sammy, I think we deserve a drink, whaddaya say? I’m buying. I’ll get them to put an umbrella in yours and everything.”
Sam gives Dean a barely-contained look of irritation across the roof of the car. Almost conversationally, he says, “You can buy me that drink, but if it comes with an umbrella, I’m gonna stick it up your ass. Okay?”
Dean laughs out loud. “So hostile, little brother. Okay, no umbrella. And stop thinking about my ass for two seconds, will ya.” Before Sam can respond, Dean ducks into the car.
Walking into the closest bar to the motel, Dean makes a beeline straight for a booth and gets comfortable, Sam following. Sam glances around the room and notices that someone already has their eyes on Dean, and that person seems interested. He’s not surprised; bars are Dean’s natural habitat, and he exudes sexual confidence as soon as he steps foot into the room. Sam also knows that Dean’s aware of it, and isn’t above using it when necessary. At times it comes in handy, like when they need to get information. At other times – like tonight, apparently – it’s a potential pain in the ass.
The interested party walks over to their table and looks directly at Dean. “Hi. Can I buy you a drink?”
Dean looks up, seemingly not surprised by the offer, and gives the man a little smile. “Thanks, but I’m with him,” he says, motioning his head to Sam.
The man looks at Sam and then back to Dean. “I could buy you both a drink,” he replies, raising his eyebrows slightly.
Sam just wants him to go away. “Thanks, but I don’t like to share,” he says, giving the man a fake smile.
“Fair enough,” he says, conceding defeat. He smiles and nods, before walking back to his barstool near the pool table.
Dean turns an amused look on Sam. “You goin’ all caveman on me, Sammy?”
“Hey, if you want, I could go bring him back for you.”
“Nah, he’s not my type.”
“No? He wasn’t bad looking.”
Dean shrugs. “I have particular tastes when it comes to my men.”
“Do tell,” Sam says with the hint of a smile.
“Well, they have to be freakishly tall, for a start, and be a combination of Joe College and Deadly Hunter. And the hair…”
“Okay, okay,” Sam says, smiling.
Before they’ve wiped the smiles off their faces, a waitress approaches the table. “Hey guys, what can I get for you?”
Dean looks up at her. “Two beers, and a bowl of nachos.”
“Bottle or glass?”
“Bottle’s fine.”
“Comin’ up. Oh, and don’t worry about Greg, he’s harmless.”
“You mean the guy who came over?” Dean asks.
“Yeah. Gay as Elton John’s fanny pack. I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten a blood nose for his trouble yet.”
Dean smiles. “No harm, no foul.”
“What did you tell him, anyway?”
“That I was with him,” he says, again motioning to Sam.
“Are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Yeah, we’re together.”
Sam likes how that sounds so natural coming from Dean’s mouth. He also likes the Mona Lisa smile on Dean’s lips at that simple statement. He keeps that to himself, though.
The waitress tucks her hair behind her ear as she looks from Dean to Sam and back again. “Well, I tell ya, I’m gonna have nice dreams tonight picturing the two of you together.” Then, with a wink and a smile, she turns towards the bar.
Dean chuckles. “I like her.”
Sam smiles.
Dean turns in the booth so he’s facing Sam. Leaning over the table, with his arms on the edge, he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”
Before he can stop himself, Sam chips in with “Not always a good sign.”
“I’m laughing on the inside. Anyway, seeing as we’re self-employed, I think we should take a couple of days R&R. We so deserve it.”
Sam considers that for a moment. “Do you have anything in mind?”
Dean gives him a slow smile. “Yeah, lots of things. And some of them might even include stepping outside the motel room.”
Sam chuckles softly. “You wanna stay here?”
“Yeah. No point going anywhere else ‘til we know where the next job is.”
“Okay.”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “I thought I was going to have to fight you a little more for that.”
“Nah. Don’t use up your energy, you’ll need it.”
Dean grins. “Them’s fightin’ words, Sammy,” he says with a drawl.
Sam matches Dean’s grin, as well as his accent. “They sure are, Tex, but only until you get me into the motel room; then, I’m putty in your hands.”
“Then we’d better hope the nachos don’t take long.”
Just then, their waitress brings the beers over. Hearing Dean’s last comment, she sets the bottles down. “I’ll go check on your food. You boys in a hurry?”
“Kind of,” Sam answers.
“Okay,” she says, and disappears towards the kitchen.
“So, putty ‘eh?” Dean says, leaning back and moving his legs so they rest either side of Sam’s. The toe of his right boot rubs the back of Sam’s left calf.
Sam smiles. “Hard putty.”
Dean pretends to think about that as he takes a drink. “Hard putty? Nah, I don’t think there’s any such thing.”
Leaning forward casually, Sam lowers his voice slightly. “If you take off your boot, you can find out for yourself.” He then leans back again, with a small smile, and they look into each other’s eyes like they’re holding a wordless conversation. Then, when Sam motions with his head, and then eyes, they both move further into the booth, which makes them not quite so public in a public place. Sam knows there’s no way Dean won’t take him up on the challenge, so he waits patiently. Sure enough, the little movements Dean starts making tell Sam that he’s toeing off his boot. Sam makes his own subtle move by opening his legs a little wider. A few seconds later, he feels Dean’s foot climb the inside of his left leg, moving slowly. Sam feigns patience, reaches for the beer, and lets his head fall back as he tips the bottle and drinks. Dean chooses that moment to reach his destination, and Sam carefully lowers the bottle to the table.
Watching his brother, Dean rests his sock-covered foot against the seat in between Sam’s thighs and pushes forward so the ball of his foot rubs against the denim of Sam’s crotch; up and down, adding and relieving pressure.
Several times, Sam wants to close his eyes but that would be a little suspicious to anyone who looked over at them at that moment, so he concentrates on his breathing instead. When Dean stops his movements, Sam covertly thrusts his hips, which earns him a wicked smile from Dean. Apparently, that’s what Dean wanted, and he resumes his sweet torture.
A minute later, their food arrives, and Sam subtly drops one arm under the table to stop Dean’s tease. Dean stops but doesn’t remove his foot.
“Thanks,” Sam says to their waitress, moving his bottle to allow for the bowl of nachos.
“You’re welcome, hon.”
Dean is about to reach for his wallet when a thought comes to him. He pretends to be looking for his wallet, patting his pockets, and then looks up to Sam. “Uh, Sam, I think I left my wallet at home. Would you mind?”
It only takes a second for Sam to understand Dean’s game but he plays along. “Sure,” he replies with a slight smile, and lifts his hips to get at the wallet in his back pocket. In doing so, his crotch pushes against Dean’s foot, and Sam has to concentrate on not moaning out loud as he sits back down, handing the bills over. Dean’s little stunt has the desired effect, if the desired effect was to make him very hard.
Dean starts to eat, looking smug. Sam decides to seek revenge his own way. Digging in to the nachos, Sam occasionally licks a smear of sour cream or salsa dip from his fingers, or from around his mouth, using his tongue to maximum effect; even hollowing his cheeks one time as he slowly pulls his index finger from his mouth. To the casual observer, Sam is just a messy eater, but Dean’s watching him with the intensity of a big cat stalking his prey, and he knows Sam’s getting him back for his stunt.
“It’s not gonna work, little brother; I know what you’re trying to do and I’m not falling for it.”
Sam looks at Dean, and then does something Dean wasn’t expecting. He reaches down to Dean’s ankle and removes his foot from in between Sam’s legs, and then moves his own foot up to rest in between Dean’s thighs, positioning himself exactly as Dean did. He pushes his foot against Dean’s crotch and feels how hard he is.
“Oh, I think it worked very well,” Sam says confidently.
Dean sucks in a breath. “When did you take off your boot?”
“When you were watching me lick my fingers,” he answers, smiling.
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” he says, the menace in those words diffused by the effect of Sam’s foot pushing against his hard-on.
“Bring it on,” Sam taunts.
“Motel. Now.”
Sam’s grin practically lights up the room, and he removes his foot. When they have both managed to put their boots back on, they slide out of the booth and walk straight for the front door. As they get to their feet, Dean is profoundly glad that he chose this jacket, as it covers the front of his jeans.
Before they get to the door, their waitress walks across their path with a tray of drinks and stops them. “You two enjoy yourselves tonight,” she says with a smile.
Dean smirks. “Thanks. And sweet dreams.”
She laughs and makes her way over to deliver the drinks to the next table.
Remarkably, they both manage to keep their hands to themselves until they get out of the car in front of the motel. That didn’t mean that they weren’t teasing each other for the mile-and-a-half drive.
Sam extracts the room key from his pocket and attempts to unlock the door. There is no light above their door, however, which means that it’s taking a few seconds longer to get the door open. Seconds longer is too long for Dean.
“Damnit, Sam, just open the door.”
Sam chuckles at Dean’s impatience, and stops, knowing that will frustrate him more. Looking over his shoulder at his brother, he says with a smile, “What’s the matter, Dean, can’t wait a few seconds longer to get your hands on me?”
Dean exhales loudly through his nose and tries to snatch the key from Sam.
“You know, you don’t have to wait,” Sam teases, turning around and moving the key away from impatient fingers.
“Sam, you’d better open that fucking door right now, or you’re gonna be bare-assed in front of this charge-by-the-hour sleazy motel.”
“Then what are you gonna do to me, big brother?”
“Saaamm…,” he warns, trying again to get the key.
“Uh-uh, tell me what you’d do next, and I’ll give you the key.”
Dean reigns in his frustration, and leans in to whisper roughly, and precisely, in Sam’s ear. “Then I’m gonna get down on my knees and swallow your cock and make you scream as you come in my mouth. Now, would you rather do it here in the cold parking lot, or in a warm motel room? Myself, I’d prefer carpet burn to gravel rash, but you decide.”
Sam looks at Dean hungrily, before pushing away from the door and capturing Dean’s lips in a slow, deep kiss.
Dean retaliates, slamming Sam back against the door and responds to the kiss forcefully, not bothering to try to control the hunger. He forces himself to stop a minute later, and pulls back a little. “Now, Sam.”
Sam’s hard cock twitches at Dean’s command – God, I love Dean’s don’t-fuck-with-me voice - and he reluctantly turns to unlock the door.
Sam walks in but doesn’t get more than two steps into the room before Dean slams the door and pushes Sam back against it. “Impatient much?” Sam asks with a smirk.
“You wanna play, Sammy?” Dean taunts, removing his jacket quickly, then reaching up and pushing Sam’s jacket and over-shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. Dean’s hands find the hem of Sam’s t-shirt and they work their way under and up, bunching the material as he goes, and Sam assists by reaching the back of the t-shirt and pulling it off. While Sam wrestles with the material, Dean holds on to Sam’s hips and fastens his lips over one of Sam’s nipples, sucking hard.
“God,” Sam rasps as he discards his top. He captures Dean’s mouth in an erotic dancing of tongues and bruising of lips. At the same time, Sam can feel his belt being unbuckled and his buttons undone by anxious hands.
“Were you this aggressive with the women you had sex with?” Sam asks, already knowing the answer.
“No,” Dean answers in a whisper, grazing Sam’s ear lobe with his teeth.
“Why not? Some of them may have liked it.”
“Because,” he says, sliding his hand down inside Sam’s open jeans and boxers to firmly grasp his prize, “I only want to be aggressive with someone who can be just as hard and powerful, and,” he breathes, giving Sam’s cock one quick stroke, “you’re both. But you knew that; you just wanted me to say it.”
Sam takes a gasping breath. “Mmmm…and I liked it ‘cause that’s how I feel, too.” Sam moves his hands to frame Dean’s face, and kisses him slowly. Dean groans and increases the pace, and their kiss degenerates into wet and hot and needy.
Dean’s hands, meanwhile, busy themselves with getting Sam out of his jeans and boxers. When he succeeds in getting them down over his ass, he stops and wraps his hand around Sam’s fully engorged cock again, now free from restraint.
Sam moans into Dean’s mouth and pushes him to the edge of the bed. Sam breaks the kiss and leans his head back, breathing heavily. “Dean,” he says, drawing his name out on a moan.
Dean clamps his lips on Sam’s exposed neck and sucks hard, quickly leaving a mark. “Hmmm…?” Dean queries, his lips still attached to Sam’s hard muscles and soft skin.
Sam can feel the vibration from Dean’s response, and some kind of freaky current sends that vibration straight down to his downstairs brain. “Dean, didn’t you say something about swallowing my cock earlier?” Somehow, Sam can feel Dean’s lips turn up into a smile, before he pulls away.
“Gonna hold me to it, Sammy?”
“You bet your sweet ass.”
Dean gives Sam a low, sexy chuckle, and proceeds to put his delicious mouth to good use.
Sam feels the wet trail that Dean leaves as he works his way down Sam’s torso.
As he starts his descent, he rubs the head of Sam’s cock with his thumb, spreading precome around the head, and then removes his hand entirely.
Sam whimpers softly at the loss, until that same thumb rubs along Sam’s lips and momentarily moves away. Sam licks his tongue along his lips, tasting himself, and then Dean is pushing his thumb inside Sam’s mouth.
“Suck.”
Sam doesn’t need to be told twice - he actually didn’t even need to be told once – and draws Dean’s thumb into his mouth, sucking and licking and bobbing his head, working his thumb just like he wants to work Dean’s cock.
Dean continues his slow journey down Sam’s torso, now stopping to mouth and lick Sam’s nipples, giving each one equal attention. Suddenly, Dean stops, and it takes a second for Sam’s lust-consumed brain to register the fact. Dean reverses their positions and gently pushes Sam down to sit on the end of Dean’s bed. “Legs,” he says, and Sam falls back on the bed and lifts his legs straight out. Dean kneels in front of Sam, at the foot of the bed, and pulls off Sam’s shoes. He then moves on to his jeans and boxers that were still pooled around his ankles, and throws them aside.
“Always taking care of me,” Sam says with a smile.
Dean leans over Sam, trailing one hand up his stomach and chest. “Nah, I just needed to get you completely naked so I could kneel between your legs, big boy.”
Sam lifts up to lean on his elbows and smiles wickedly at Dean, whose hands now work their way down each thigh and spread Sam’s legs wider still. While he still has two functioning brain cells to rub together, Sam sits up and makes an astute observation. “You’re wearing far too many clothes, Dean.”
Dean smiles. “I agree. You wanna help me with that?”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
Dean chuckles.
Sam leans in and kisses Dean softly as he reaches down to find the hem of his top, before dragging it slowly up Dean’s torso, Sam’s hands running along the smooth, hard skin over his ribs.
Dean breaks the kiss and lifts his arms as Sam brings the top over his head. He throws the top on the floor with Sam’s jeans, keeping eye contact.
Sam’s hands immediately move to the next barrier and he makes quick work of belt, button, and zip to have his new lover as naked as he is. Sam pushes down the offending jeans and boxers and brings his hands back up behind Dean to firmly squeeze Dean’s ass, before travelling further up to caress the arch of his lower back.
Dean gets to his feet – somehow – and removes his clothes completely. He sees Sam’s eyes travel down to his erection as he stands in front of him, and smiles as he sinks back down to his knees in front of him. “Uh-uh, my mouth, your cock, remember?”
“Like I could ever forget.”
“Now, what did I say I was going to do to your cock? Tell me, Sam.”
“Swallow it. Oh, and you said you were gonna make me scream, too. Give it your best shot,” he says, clearly a challenge.
Dean smiles; he does love winning a challenge. His fingers circle Sam’s thick shaft and he slides his hand to the ridge of the head, applying just the right pressure. At the same time, he licks and kisses along Sam’s jaw line, and is immediately rewarded with a strangled moan. Whispering in his ear, Dean promises, “Oh, I intend to, baby brother. I want that hard putty you were telling me about.” With the last sentence, Dean pumps Sam’s cock hard, down to the base and up again.
“Ohhhhh,” Sam groans, leaning his head back with his eyes closed.
Dean lays his left hand on Sam’s stomach and pushes him back gently. “Lean back, but watch me, Sammy. I want you to watch me suck you.”
Sam does as instructed, leaning back on his elbows, and watches as Dean licks along the underside of Sam’s cock, before sliding his lips over and down his length, encircling his index finger and thumb around the base and keeping it there; he doesn’t want Sam coming too soon. Dean takes Sam into his mouth a little at a time, his lips stretching to accommodate Sam’s girth. He pulls back, and sinks down again, each time a little deeper. He removes his left hand from Sam’s stomach and massages his balls, trying to distract Sam while he gets used to his size. The first – and only – time Dean did this, he really didn’t like it quite as much as he let on, but this is different; this is Sam; his little brother; the only person he could ever trust his feelings to, and the only person he’s ever loved like this. Dean hears Sam’s moans and looks up his body to see Sam’s unguarded expression: one of absolute pleasure and surrender. Dean’s cock hardens further and he hums a moan as he relaxes his throat muscles and swallows Sam nearly down to the base.
“Oh God!” Sam exclaims, dropping his head back between his prominent shoulder blades. He unintentionally lifts his hips to feel that again, and Dean’s hand comes back to rest on Sam’s stomach.
Dean pulls his mouth from Sam and looks up at him.
“Sorry,” Sam, says as he looks down at Dean.
“’Sokay,” he answers, slowly stroking along Sam’s length. “A little warning wouldn’t go astray, though. I’m not exactly an expert at this, ya know.”
“Mmmm…as far as I’m concerned, you are. Your mouth feels so good around me. Please, Dean. Please don’t stop.”
Dean give Sam a lazy smile. “I kinda like it when you beg, Sammy. Makes me want to give you more.” Having said that, Dean lowers his head again and licks the leaking precome from Sam’s head, swirling his tongue along head, ridge, and down, flattening his tongue to follow the vein on the underside of Sam’s steel-hard cock.
Dean hears the encouragement in Sam’s moans and sighs, and doubles his efforts. Sliding his lips around Sam’s head again, he sets up a rhythm with hand and mouth, stroking up as Dean pulls his mouth back to the tip, and stroking down as Dean engulfs him again, remembering to relax his throat in the process. Dean, being a fast learner, quickly proceeds to hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard as he pulls back, which has Sam flat on his back and moaning loudly.
“Fuuuck, Dean! Just like that,” Sam says with a growl.
Dean wants to get him off quick, now, so he removes his left hand from Sam’s flat stomach and reaches down to fondle his balls again. Squeezing and massaging them has the desired effect, judging by Sam’s throaty moan.
“Dean, I’m so close,” he says desperately. “Hard…suck me hard…ohhhh.”
Dean pumps Sam’s cock hard and fast, and sucks him while he tongues the head. When Dean hums around his length, Sam cracks like an easter egg, and yells Dean’s name as he erupts into Dean’s waiting mouth, shaking through the intensity.
Dean has the presence of mind to pull back a bit as he hears and feels Sam’s release, and greedily swallows on every spurt. He keeps pumping Sam’s cock, slower and slower, until he feels Sam’s body totally relax, and then he pulls his mouth free. Placing his hands on Sam’s thighs, he lifts his head to look at his boneless brother. “Is anyone home?” he asks with a small smile.
Sam’s chest rises and falls quickly and shallowly, and he takes a couple of seconds to answer. “No, Sam has left the building.”
Dean chuckles and climbs onto the bed to lie on his left side. He runs his hand up along Sam’s torso, from abs to chest, and stills his hand over his heart.
Sam turns his head to look at Dean. “So,” he says with a smile, “it’s good to see you keep your promises.”
Matching Sam’s smile, Dean leans down and nuzzles Sam’s ear with his nose. “You know I do.”