Archive of Our Own ^beta

Title:Can You Take’em All?
Author: merepersiflage
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Category: PWP
Word Count: 3500
Spoilers: None
Summary: Dean gets a reward for getting rid of a ghost and shares it with Sam.
Warnings: Incest, graphic m/m sex, language, sex toys
Disclaimer: These very interesting characters were created by other people, and I make no profit by playing with them.
Notes: So, la_folle_allure had this idea which she forced generously allowed me to write about. She and keepaofthecheez comforted me while I was afraid I’d lost my porn.
And I can’t believe how many July birthdays I missed!
impertinence kimmyray deirdre_c (Um, y’all don’t have to consider it a dedication if you don’t like it. You can just have my best wishes for a happy year and move on.)



“Anything in the store.”

The job definitely had its perks. This wasn’t the first time some store owner had been so happy to get his premises spook free that he offered merchandise in return. But it was the first time in this kind of store. Dean stared at the range of stuff lining the walls. Why didn’t he ever get a chance to get rid of a ghost in an auto parts store?

Pleasure’s Treasures. He hadn’t really thought about what kind of store it was when they’d done the job, just found the lady’s bones and made her go away. Now, his eyes widened as they swept back and forth over the walls. Handcuffs and blindfolds, nah. Had the first and the second was easy enough to make on his own, though he doubted Sam would go for that. Costumes. Naughty nurses, French maids. He shook his head to get rid of that image.

Riding crops, braided whips, paddles. Not that he’d never thought about taking something to his brat brother’s ass more times than he could count, he really didn’t think Sam was gonna hold still for it. The idea was just as appealing now as it had been when Sam was six, though for very different reasons. Or, considering the fight they’d had over this particular job, maybe not so different. Dean shrugged and moved down the aisle. If it came to that, he had his belt.

Vibrators. Jesus. They took up a whole wall. The owner leapt to his side to demonstrate some of the more exotic features. The thing with the pearls and the--fucking hell was that a rabbit? It was a wonder girls ever left their houses. He doubted even he could compete with some of that shit.

And then the dildos. Frilly pink things. Twisty things. Things that looked like animals. Two headed things. An enormous red butt plug that looked as wide as a paint can and made Dean’s ass clench involuntarily.

He was about to grab an industrial-sized jar of lube and head out to the car and his pouting brother, when he saw a red white and blue center table display. Well, it was Independence, Missouri. And it was two days till the Fourth. Who said adult toy shops couldn’t be patriotic?

“Can you take them all?” The display asked.

There were rows of red, white and blue dildos. Rocket shaped, about nine inches long and maybe two and a half at the widest point. They were red and blue striped and covered with white stars. When the owner saw what had Dean’s attention, he lifted up a—uhm—floor model. The stars, Dean saw, and felt, when the guy put it in his hand, were raised.

“Fifty of’em?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean ran his thumb over the stars. The edges weren’t rough, but it didn’t take much imagination to know those irregular bumps would create a whole lot of sensation. And wasn’t Sammy always moaning “Harder”?

The guy tried to press one of those pearl vibrators on him too, claiming they were the best thing in his shop, but Dean just took his rocket and a smaller bottle of the lube he’d seen earlier.

“Thanks again, and a Happy Fourth!” The guy called as Dean tucked the bag under his arm.



Dean grinned every time he thought about that bag. The grin only seemed to piss Sam off more as he stabbed impatiently at the laptop looking for a new gig.

Sam was really in a mood. Probably because he hadn’t come in days. Unless he was being really quiet about it in the shower. They hadn’t touched each other since they’d had that huge fight over how to settle the haunting that turned out to be centered in Pleasure’s Treasures cellar storeroom. Sam had insisted the ghost was only trying to get herself and her baby a decent burial and Dean had said she lost the right not to be salted and burned when she shoved some kid into traffic to get attention and Sam had told him to kiss his ass and Dean had said he wouldn’t until Sam admitted he was right and they’d needed two queens since then.

“Hey, Sam, what was the first state?”

He didn’t look up. “Delaware.”

“What’s the fiftieth?”

“Hawaii.”

“Before that?”

“Alaska.”

“Before that?”

“Uh—New Mexico—no, Arizona.”

“The nineteenth?”

“Indiana.”

“Shit, dude, are you looking that up?”

“No. Is there a fucking point to this?”

“Maybe. So you know’em all?”

“Probably.”

“Wow.”

“Do you know how many state welcome signs we’ve passed in our lives?”

“Never passed Hawaii’s.”

That at least got an almost laugh out of him. “Or Alaska’s. And the point would be?”

“Huh?”

“You said there was a point to asking me this?”

“Oh. Did you know it’s the Fourth of July?”

“Yeah, Dean, I can also count to four.”

Dean tucked his hands behind his head to keep from strangling his brother.

“So. I thought maybe since we’re between jobs, we could grab some beer and go out and see the fireworks.”

Sam looked at him over the top of the screen. The light made his eyes a deep green and they were almost tilted in a smile. “Maybe.”



“We’re kind of far from the city, aren’t we?” Sam looked back over the horizon as Dean put the car in park. Not that there was a parking space. They were on a dirt road on a hill in the middle of fields. And there was a thick smell of cows. Sam figured they’d driven to another county.

“Fireworks go up. You can see’em a long way off.” Dean pulled a blanket out of the trunk. “Grab the cooler.”

“What’s in the bag?”

“Supplies.”

In Deanspeak, that usually meant peanut M&M’s. Dean spread the blanket out and grabbed a beer from the cooler before dropping down to sit. As an apology went, this wasn’t bad. The sunset was cooling things off nicely and there were worse ways to spend some time. Sam sat down next to him. He’d still been right, there’d been no need to burn Theresa’s bones. She would have stopped.

He leaned back on his elbows, stretching out his legs. Dean handed him a beer. It was still warm enough to make him knock off half the bottle before pulling it away from his mouth. “Gonna share those M&M’s?”

“Drink your beer, Sammy.”

See it was exactly that kind of shit he was sick of. That I know what’s best kind of tone. He turned to tell him that and decided to just prove it. He made a sudden grab for the brown paper bag.

Dean was quicker, the bastard, and he jerked it out of his reach.

“Why are you being such a jerk?”

“You want what’s in the bag, Sammy?” Dean taunted him as he leapt to his feet. Like holding the bag over his head was going to stop Sam.

“Now, I’m going to take them all.” And he’d feed them to the goddamned cows.

Dean was fucking laughing. “Just remember. You asked for’em.”

Sam turned away to make a nest for his beer in the soft earth before he stood up and kicked his brother’s ass.

He never got a chance to stand up. Dean’s weight came down hard on him, driving his face into the edge of the blanket and muffling the curse that came out of his mouth. “Fucking cheater,” he said as he got his wind back.

“Just giving you what you asked for, Sammy.” Dean kept one had pressing between his shoulder blades as his other snaked underneath him to rip at the button on his jeans.

Sam froze. “There aren’t any M&M’s in the bag, are there?”

“Nope.” And he could hear the grin in Dean’s voice. “But I’ll bet you’re gonna like this better.”

Dean worked Sam’s pants off his hips. While his brother was distracted by getting his clothes off, Sam managed to get his hands on the bag. The sucker was heavy and as he tugged it toward him, he could feel things roll inside it.

Dean laid back over him and pulled the bag away.

Sam tried to use a reasonable tone, but the teasing was alternatively turning him on and pissing him off. “If I’m going to like it, why can’t I see it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Sam squirmed but Dean was sitting on his hips and his jeans were twisted around his calves. Dean slid his hands up under Sam’s shirt, fingers rough, finding the spots on his shoulders that made pleasure rush down his nerves to his dick.

“You got massage oil?” Sam asked hopefully.

“Not exactly.”

Dean’s teeth and tongue left hot wet marks down the edge of his spine. Sam found himself sighing. Dean’s hand slid around his hips and Sam raised himself up to let Dean’s thick fingers wrap around his cock. He made a few languid strokes before stopping to trace the thick vein and tease under the head. Yeah, Dean never said “I’m sorry” but he was still pretty good at apologies.

Arousal lay on him like the heat of the July day, making him want to stretch out and just let it roll through him until it had him sweating and gasping. He kind of wanted to roll over, to see if he could get Dean to suck him off while he finished his beer. But then, Dean put his mouth on the top of Sam’s ass, and Sam laughed.

“I thought you weren’t going to kiss my ass.”

“I was still right anyway. Kid with a broken leg equals crispy bones. And—”

Dean’s teeth sank in deep, and Sam bucked up into the bite, the heat and the sting flooding his body with need.

“That’s not exactly a kiss, now is it?”

Dean put a matching mark on the other side and Sam’s body flushed harder with pleasure. His cock began to throb with that need to push, to grind. Not desperate yet, just a good hard ache. Dean left his dick alone with the scratchy rub of the blanket underneath him. Sam heard the crackle of the bag and then the familiar snap of a cap and the glop of lube.

“Man, Sammy, you shoulda finished your beer like I told you.”

“Huh?”

Dean peeled himself off of him and pushed his hips up. Sam went up on his knees without much urging. His body was buzzing with pleasure like he had finished that beer, and two or three more besides. Dean always knew what buttons to push, how to get him off fast or slow and that kind of guarantee sounded really good to Sam’s hot and bothered dick.

The cold slick slide he was expecting. And he was ready for Dean’s fingers, maybe even ready for his cock but what he wasn’t ready for was something that felt like teeth tearing him right the hell there.

He jerked away. “What the hell is that?” He tried sitting back on his heels but Dean pressed his back down again.

“Gimme a break, Sam. I’ve never tried this before.”

“Tried what?” Sam was about two seconds away from forgetting about his hard on and wanting to kick Dean’s ass again.

“Your surprise.”

“Yeah, well you can take your surprise and shove it up your own ass.”

“I don’t think that’ll be as much fun. You’re the history buff after all.”

“What the fuck?”

Dean tossed something at him, an empty piece of hard plastic packaging. Sam read the cardboard sandwiched between the plastic. Red, white and blue fireworks formed a backdrop to the ad line “Can you take’em all?” Sam looked at the shape left from where the object had been. His cock jerked and his ass tightened. “You bought a fucking dildo?”

“Nah, the guy gave it to me, you know, for getting Theresa out of the store.”

“Dean, did you forget that we both already have dicks? I mean it’s really not—”

“Look again, Sammy.”

Sam put a hand on the packaging. His fingers rubbed against all those little bumps. “What—”

“Stars. Fifty stars for fifty states. Don’t think of it as a dildo. Think of it as a history lesson.”

“Dean—” But Dean’s thumb squeezed inside him, making Sam drag his name out to about four syllables.

“I know you can take’em all, Sam.”

Sam thought of those bumps dragging over his opening, rubbing inside him and fuck if he didn’t arch and open to Dean.

“What was the first state again?”

“Del—a—ware.”

“Okay. So that’s Delaware.”

Dean shoved a little more inside him. It didn’t feel anything like his brother’s cock. And it wasn’t just those fucking stars that were popping past his rim. It was cool and instead of the pressure easing once the head was in, the shape of the thing just meant it was getting wider and wider.

“I’d say that’s about seven. What’s number seven?”

“Uh.” God, he was supposed to think while the part of his nervous system that was still working was wired to his ass and couldn’t make up its mind whether that slow bumpy stretch felt really fucking good or hurt like hell. It was an M state, “M-M-Maryland.” Like Dean would know the difference.

That slow increasing pressure was almost too much and damned if he couldn’t feel every fucking one of those stars slide into him. He counted the states by in his head. When Dean stopped again he blurted—“Kentucky.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, god, please.”

“Please, what.”

Get it in me. Get it out. It was always like this, like hanging on a fucking knife point waiting for his body to stretch and take it until it was all so good he could almost come just from that. But with Dean’s cock, he knew it got better. From the shape of the plastic it’d been in, this thing only got wider. And the stars got bigger.

“Don’t stop.” Sam stretched his fingers forward, tearing through the grass. “Fuck.”

“Must’ve been Texas,” Dean said with a laugh.

Oh, he was so fucking Dean with this thing if he had to tie him to the goddamned bed to do it.

“I’d say we’re more than halfway. What’s hmmm, number 34?”

“Kansas.”

“Huh. What year?”

“Fucking hell.”

“You knew’em all before.”

“That was when someone wasn’t fucking my ass with a cannon.”

“Rocket. Want me to stop?”

But it was a stupid question and they both knew it. Sam pushed back a little.

“So we in the 1860’s yet?”

“May . . . be.”

Holy shit. Dean yanked the dildo back out of him, all those stars flicking against him in rapid succession.

“Wha—”

“Duh, Sammy. Civil War. The South backed out.” And Dean was laughing again.

He was going to gag him with it and then fuck him and then possibly gag him with it again—“Uhhh.”

“Back in. What did they call that?”

“Re. ad. mittance.”

Sam’s fingers were ripping up tufts of grass and over the rushing in his ears he could hear the crunch and tear of the stems. The tangy green smell flooded his nostrils. It was a perfect summer evening, and he was taking a star-studded dildo up the ass. God, he wished he could shut off his brain.

Dean rocked the dildo a little as he worked it deeper. And that got him pretty close to cognitive meltdown. How thick was that thing? He felt the stars less now, the stretch of muscle dominating sensation. And then Dean shifted the angle and Delaware was doing a hell of a job for such a tiny state.

“Forty?” Dean’s voice rumbled in his ear, dragging him back to their game.

“I don’t fucking remember.” He couldn’t remember his own fucking name.

“Want me to start again? Would that help?”

It wasn’t fucking fair. Since it wasn’t his dick, Dean was way too controlled and that was why dildos were a bad idea. If that had been his dick, Dean’d have been slamming him half way to coming by now.

“No.” Sam managed to gasp.

“Well. I think we should wait until you remember.”

Make it up he told himself. But he couldn’t even think of a state to throw in there.

“Uh Dakota.”

“South or North.”

Fuck! Was he twisting that? He could feel the stars now. Jesus.

“Both, same day.”

“Just a few more, Sammy.”

Another burning inch and then the pressure eased. “Hawaii.” Dean said with something like pride. “Knew you could do it.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“That’s quite a dick you’re holding.” Dean slid it back an inch, and slammed it forward. Sam’s hand ripped up a grassy divot the size of Rhode Island.

Dean groaned.

Sam took a deep breath. “You know that’ s not you in there, right?

“Maybe but fucking you like this is hotter than I thought it would be.”

“So get it out and get in me.”

“Nah, I got another idea.”

Dean worked it slowly, rocking him forward as he pulled it out and shoved it back in, taking his time so that Sam could feel every last star.

He pushed it all the way in. “Roll over. And don’t let it fall out.”

Since Sam wasn’t about to go through that slow torture again, he clamped down as he shifted.

“Sit.”

Like hell. His blood was pumping pleasure all through him, but he wasn’t going to just . . .Dean’s hands gripped his shoulders and he was sitting. Shit. Every time he so much as blinked he was fucking himself. Dean cupped his head, and Sam opened eyes he’d forgotten were closed. Dean’s dick was hanging right in front of his lips and if he was a little slow on the uptake, he’d have to be forgiven because he had just had fifty states shoved inside him and he was still feeling the affects.

But he didn’t need any more urging. He leaned forward to wrap his lips around Dean’s cock and Dean drove him back, shifting that pressure inside him. His mouth got a hold and his arms went around Dean’s hips and his tongue was working like he was going to get himself off. All that sensation he was riding just came pouring out as he sucked and bobbed and stroked almost frantically. Dean grunted over him, rocking them both. The motion moved Sam’s mouth on his cock and Sam’s ass onto that rocket, making fucking himself part of the same rhythm as sucking Dean.

Sam didn’t know if it was his intense attentions, or knowing just what was causing them that got Dean off faster than he could ever remember. But it seemed like he’d just really gotten Dean wet enough to really make it work when Dean twisted his fingers in Sam’s hair and jerked Sam’s mouth away, shooting over his shoulder into the grass.

Dean shoved him and as soon as Sam’s back hit the blanket, Dean’s hand dropped between his legs, grabbing the dildo and fucking him fast, the stars just ripples as they scraped back and forth through him. He was still panting when his lips closed over the head of Sam’s cock.

Sam bucked like he was having a seizure. Jesus. The hot wet and the fucking and oh yeah, dildos did have some advantages because neither of them were likely to get flexible enough for this. And that was the last conscious thought he had as his body just exploded with ecstasy. Wet, soft, hard, right there, perfect, now, fuck, now.

And the pressure just built until he knew he was begging, but Dean was already giving him everything he could possibly beg for until oh shit, he was gone. He pumped and pumped until he was dry, until his head felt like someone had hit him with a fucking brick, and even after he lay there gasping, lips pushing out one last moan as Dean slid the dildo from him, his head was still pounding with echoes like distant gunfire.

“Sammy, open your eyes.”

He saw a bright spark and then another, pushing himself up on his elbows. Oh yeah, the fireworks.

He collapsed back against the blanket.

“You’re gonna miss’em.”

“Uh-uh. Seen enough stars for one day.”

Dean chuckled and cuffed his head gently. “Wanna go?”

“Not yet, you watch for me.”

Sam couldn’t see the actual arcs of colored gunpowder from where he lay, but each explosion lit up his brother’s face, showing him Dean’s smile.

He might not say “I’m sorry,” but his brother definitely knew how kiss and make up.