Fic: What A Lovely Way To Burn (Dean/Sam)
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sweat dirty sex, rimming, depraved use of ice
Summary - It's hot and sticky out and the boys are going to really work up a sweat
It was hot even though the sun had melted below the sherbet horizon hours ago; the muggy, wet - soaked, really - kind of heat that seeps into your bones. Dean wasn't exactly a fan, he liked the cool crisp air of the midwest better, but Sam just couldn't cope at all. The kid didn't exactly do well with temperatures - either he was cold and piling on the layers or he was burning up and useless like now.
The younger Winchester was sprawled out across one of the motel beds, stripped to his boxers, staring despondently at the ceiling. Every now and then he would grab the sheet and swipe it across his body to clean away the sweat that would be beading up his skin again in minutes.
Dean didn't mind it so much, anything that got his brother stripping was pretty ok in his books, except Sam didn't much like to be touched when he was all hot and 'gross' - as Sam put it - which was a crime as far as Dean was concerned. Sam dirty and hot and sweaty was one of his favorite things in the whole world, and while he usually preferred to be the one to get his brother that way, he damn well wasn't going to turn it down just because of the weather. Sammy needed a little convincing though.
Dean's fingers crunched around in the bucket of ice he'd had to fight for - a motel without AC meant a run on the ice machine - picking out a cube and rolling it in his palm. He got up slowly, carrying the bucket with him and moving as smooth and lazy as the weather made him feel. He put the ice down on the nightstand and sat on the bed next to his brother. Sam groaned and scooted over a little so Dean was no longer touching him.
Dean held the melting ice cube in his palm over Sam's sweaty abdomen, letting the cold water splatter against firm, tan skin. Sam's breath caught at the first drop, but he didn't try to move away. Bringing the cube down to rest on Sam's belly got the muscles jumping and quivering and Sam whined,
"Dean," trying to push his big brother's hand away.
"Hush," Dean rumbled, sliding the fingers of his other hand into Sam's sweat-damp hair and leaning up so their bodies touched in one long line of overheated skin.
Dean skated the ice cube over the flat planes of Sam's chest, teasingly close to his nipples but never quite there. He went instead for the collarbone, watching the water pool temptingly in the hollow of Sam's throat. Using the hand still wrapped in Sam's curls, he urged his little brother's head back, exposing the long line of bare neck for him.
"I'm tired of this attitude," he breathed over the thin skin, making Sam shiver uncontrollably, "So, the way I see it Sammy, we've got a couple options here. We can go get in a nice cool shower together and get clean," Dean ran his tongue up the flexing column of muscle and Sam's breath hitched, "We can stay right here and you can let me lick you clean," he slurred against Sam's jaw, "Or, you can quit your bitching and let me do what I want and I'll make appreciate how good it is to be dirty." He punctuated the offer with a hard nip to Sam's earlobe.
Sam's hands were pawing at his back now, slipping over sweat-sheened skin and moaning in need.
"That's my boy," Dean chuckled, reaching over to get another piece of ice from the bucket. He quickly slipped it into Sam's mouth, tipping his brother's jaw closed with his fingers. "Just to make sure you keep quiet."
Sam glared at him indignantly and he was pretty sure the younger man was going to get up and tell him to go fuck himself, but Dean had other plans. He used his position to force his weight onto Sam's shoulders and straddle him. With Sammy's half-hard dick riding the curve of his ass, he gave a thrust with his hips that wiped the fight right out of Sam. Dean winked at him and reached for the bucket again.
This cube he started at the line of Sam's sternum, dragging slowly down until it met his brother's navel. He quickly leaned in and followed the wet stripe with his tongue, hearing the ice crunch in Sam's mouth as he clenched his jaw. Dean puffed hot air over the sensitized flesh, watching the dance of contracting muscles under the sensation.
Now he did tease at Sam's nipples, swirling the ice slowly around the outside of each one, relishing the way the skin drew up and pebbled before he finally pressed the searing cold to the dusky surface. Sam squirmed and bucked up under him, but Dean ignored it except to shoot a glance at Sam's face - tight in a war between too much and not enough.
Dean soothed each frigid nub with the heat of his tongue, making Sam hiss above him and he thought he caught a hint of a word. A Latin word though, so that was alright; Sam tended to revert to Latin when he was worked up like this, scattering it into his pleas for more right along with English - he'd learned them both at the same time, so Dean supposed that made sense - and it never failed to do amazing things for Dean’s cock.
He slid down between Sam's legs, tugging off his brother's boxers and abandoning his own in the process. Picking up a new cube of ice, he paid careful attention to Sam's stomach, lingering softly in the ticklish soft that he knew would make Sammy jump. The water pooled in his brother's navel was too much to resist and Dean pressed his face to the flat, hard muscle as he lapped the liquid away. If not for his hands holding his brother's hips still, Sam would have been writhing along with the whimpers and groans he was releasing.
Dean took pity on him and moved his face lower, lifting Sam's thighs to slowly begin to work him open with his tongue. Sweat mixed with the musky heat of Sam's body flooded his tongue as Dean coaxed the resisting muscle to slowly open for him. Sam almost never let him do it like this, and the fact that he was getting to now only made Dean's already throbbing dick harder. He ground against the mattress just to relieve a bit of the tension, groaning when his tongue finally slipped past the tight ring and into the impossible heat of Sam's body.
Sam's toes were curled in the damp sheets, mouth spouting unintelligible half-sounds as Dean slowly licked him open. He spread Sam out wider for him, took the time to savor every quiver of muscle as it yielded to him, the way each soft caress of his tongue inside had Sam's hips thrusting into empty air.
Dean reluctantly removed his mouth, replacing it with two spit-slicked fingers as he kissed and sucked at the velvet skin of Sam's sac. By the time he had kisses a slow trail up to the dripping head of Sam's cock, he had three fingers working inside easily, occasionally seeking out the bundle of nerves that would send pleasure rocketing through Sam's body.
His own body was hungry for more, desperate for a taste of the delicious promising tightness wrapped around his fingers. He fumbled for the lube that had become a fixture on their bedside tables, trying to keep his lips wrapped around Sam's leaking crown at the same time. Sam finally got the idea and handed down the bottle of slick, smoothing his finger compulsively over Dean's scalp.
Dean couldn't understand most of the words pouring past Sam's lips now - he could read in Latin and do incantations, but he could never speak it the way Sammy did - but he knew 'please' and 'more' and there was nothing he loved more in the world than having Sam exactly like this. Correction, there was nothing he loved more than having Sam exactly like this AND wrapped searingly tight around his cock.
The first push inside was heaven, Sam open and willing and begging for him, internal muscles already trying to squeeze the orgasm right out of Dean. He clamped his fingers around the base and took a second to catch his breath from the overwhelming bliss surging from his toes to his scalp, curling into a tight ball of heat low in his belly.
At last he felt safe to let go and push all the way home, bending over Sammy until they were flush against each other. Sam's arms were around him instantly, holding him close, practically climbing into his skin. It felt so good, so right, so overwhelming as Dean started slow, shallow thrusts that drug his dick over Sam's prostate again and again, leaving them both moaning.
Sam's litany of "yes, love you, more, Dean, need you, God, Dean" was breaking down into snippets of Latin, and maybe Etruscan as Dean began to move in earnest - no faster, but long and deep. He knelt up, getting an underhand grip on Sam's shoulders to pull him half onto his lap.
The wet air was heavy with the scent of them, almost too thick to breath and too good to do anything but gasp it down and wish for more. Sam's whole body was flushed and glowing with a heavy sheen of sweat, head tossed back, fingers gripping Dean's sides as they thrust hard against each other. Dean leaned down and ran his tongue up the smooth, slick skin of Sam's chest, basking in the salty flavor of his brother.
Their flesh was gliding together; gather speed when Dean suddenly felt Sam's breathing go shaky and ragged, smooth muscles tamping down like a vice and Sam bellowing pure, raw sound as his come burst between them. Dean had just enough coherence to force his brother's mouth against his own in the mimicry of a kiss before he lost it too, washing Sam's insides with his need.
They panted into each other's mouths, breathing one another's air, hips working in slow circles in an instinctual need to stay within that moment. At last they collapsed together, tangled in one another's limbs, sticky with sweat and come and very satisfied.
No, Dean had no problem with the heat.