Bluffing Exposed. A companion piece to Bluffing their way to Ecstasy
Title: Bluffing Exposed
Series: Bluffing their way to Ecstasy
Category: Slash, Humor
Rating: NC17
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, John
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural. Just playing with the characters.
Summary: Is Sam really infected or is he lying to his daddy?
John stared into his coffee as he let his cooling eggs turn into a plastic lump on his plate. He shouldn’t have run out on Sam last night. He shouldn’t have left Dean to pick up the pieces once again. How many times had he allowed Dean to throw himself on the proverbial sword when it came to his little brother because it was easier on John not to be the parent he was supposed to be? Dean’s eyes from last night had haunted his sleep with their continual changing from guarded to steely to something darker, hidden. But it was Dean’s command that John should walk away and let him take care of his little brother like he always has that kept John up all night.
His boys had always been so close. How could that relationship survive what Dean obviously had to do to protect Sam last night? The kind of forced intimacy his sons had to endure last night because of something supernatural could break their very spirit as well as their closeness as brothers. Would Sam remember that he had begged his father to take him; that he had humped his leg like a bitch in heat? Would he feel violated on the deepest level after Dean finished the ritual? Would Dean feel raped as well because of what he was forced to do to his brother?
John couldn’t imagine either of them being able to look each other in the eye, let alone be able to work together like nothing had happened. No they would try, but one of them would end up hurt or dead. All it would take is one of the brothers hesitating to get close at the wrong moment. And that lack of hesitation is what made them such great hunters, such a great team. They practically lived inside each other’s skin, not afraid to cross normal boundaries when necessary, no hesitation to get close. That would all be over now because John was too much of a coward to stand up and take his son like a man when Sam begged him to. No, he had to run and leave Dean to pick up the pieces once again. Well isn’t this fanfuckingtastic? He’s thinking in circles now, like a bad movie that’s always on TV. And this is where he came in.
John took a sip of his coffee and grimaced in distaste as the now cold brew hit his tongue. Enough thinking, it was getting him nowhere anyway. John was a man of action and he had hesitated enough.
Sam woke slowly and pressed back into Dean seeking more contact before he was fully cognizant that his motion was causing Dean’s morning wood to ride the cleft of his still slick ass crack. As he became more aware, Sam started his favorite morning after game, trying to catch Dean’s dick with nothing but his asshole as they slowly rocked in unison. Extra points if Dean was still asleep. He almost had it, just a little higher up on the next undulation and that cock would slide home.
“Cut it out Sam, my dick is still sore from last night. Next time you shave first; razor stubble’s a bitch.” Dean, nonetheless, pulled Sam tighter into his arms and continued the gentle rocking motion as they lay spooned together.
“Why don’t you shave me now and then we can start all over again? Do a repeat of last night all day?” Sam was still rocking, but his goal now was more challenging, what with Dean awake and countering his moves.
“Cause the stubble burn’s still there you moron, and I’m hungry.” Dean was still rocking against Sam, but controlling how close Sam was allowed to the head. He knew it was driving his brother crazy; served him right, the prickly fucker.
“I’m hungry too” Sam became more aggressive with his lift and wiggle, and almost caught the prize. On the next undulation, he cheated and grabbed his brother’s hip to keep it in place as he pushed back, twisted up and finally sucked Dean’s dick into his hungry hole. “Unhh, yeah, that’s what I needed; feeling full now.” Sam kept Dean’s hip firmly in his vice-like grip and set up an easy rocking rhythm Dean couldn’t help but match.
Dean soon couldn’t take it anymore and pushed into his brother hard, burying his cock balls deep before breaking the death grip Sam had on his hip and flipping his prickly asshole of a brother face first into the mattress. “You just gotta be fucked again don’t you?” Dean pounded a hard exclamation point into Sam with each point he made. “Don’t care one damn bit about my poor…shredded…aching…dick…do you…bitch?” Dean adjusted his knees to take more of his weight so his hands would be free. He jammed his thumbs into Sam’s ass on either side of his dick and spread Sam wide as he set up a brutally hard pounding rhythm.
Sam push up on his knees, his ass following Dean’s dick like a flower follows the sun. “Oh gguhh, Dean, there… again… hit…yeah…unhh…s’good. Stubble’s…your fault…was you’re…idea…to shave…uhnng…my…ass…jerk.” Sam locked his knees and forearms and rocked back hard into Dean’s every thrust, giving as good as he got.
Dean felt like he was fucking into a brick wall of muscle. God, it was good. He pushed his thumbs deeper and spread his brother wider to keep as much of the razor stubble away from his dick as he could. He matched his brother in muscle and soon let fly with all he had. “You’re fault…for having…a hairy…ass.”
“Fucking…stubble…pokes me….all damn…day. Don’t see…me crying.” Sam was panting hard now, and his thighs were beginning to tremble like they had when he and Dean had first started their relationship, back when he was still new to anal sex. He didn’t know he had missed that trembly feeling until he had it back again. “Letting…ungh…stubble grow…out. Deal w…hair…jerk.”
“Lazer…hair…removal’s…in your…future, bitch.” Dean grunted as he changed up the rhythm for a slower, distance eating pounding.
Sam grinned as he egged his brother to really put his back into it and pound him harder. He was going to be walking as bowlegged as his brother after this.
Dean met the challenge and slammed his brother closer to the headboard, inch by inch, thrust by thrust despite Sam’s wall of muscle slamming back onto Dean in counterpoint. Thank god the bed was bolted to the floor.
“Come for me, bitch.” Dean was dripping sweat onto Sam’s back. He could feel the promise of a blinding orgasm begin to swirl in his gut, his balls began to draw up and his dick began to swell, but he was determined that Sam get there first. He paused ever so slightly to run his broad tongue through the little puddle of sweat in the small of Sam’s back, ending with a kiss between his shoulder blades.
“Make me, jerk.” Sam was hanging on by his toenails, his toes were curled tight, his prostate was shooting sparks through his gut straight into his dick and balls with every hit of Dean’s dick, and this swirly love feeling was clutching at his chest in direct response to that tongue trail and kiss. But, he was determined that Dean would come first this time.
Dean played dirty pool because he always played to win. This encounter was no exception. He pushed one thumb in deeper and wiggled his first and middle finger in along side of it. Pulling his other thumb out, he wrapped his arm around Sam’s chest and pulled. Sam was soon upright on his knees, deeply impaled on Dean’s dick and fingers. Then Dean tweaked Sam’s nipples before caressing down to Sam’s dick where he set up a relentless rhythm. Dean’s fingers imbedded in Sam’s ass were getting in the way of his dick’s ability to go deeper into his brother’s heat. So with his juice covered fingers fresh from Sam’s ass, Dean grabbed Sam’s jaw and turned his head for a bruising kiss. Dean then slid a finger into Sam’s mouth. “Taste us, Sam. Our cum from last night, your hot ass and my dick now. Fucking fantastic.” Sam made fucking love to Dean’s finger with his talented tongue. Dean groaned and dove back into Sam’s mouth for a taste of his own right from Sam’s lips as he continued to rock firmly into Sam’s heat and stimulate Sam’s dick with his other hand.
Sam blew like a cannon, spraying the headboard and pillows with splattering ropes of hot, white cum, dragging Dean right behind him in every way.
Sam and Dean, still connected, were slowly melting into the mattress when someone started banging on the door loud enough to wake the dead. It even had an effect on the dead tired as Dean and Sam wrenched apart and rolled off opposite sides of the bed. Dean came up with his 9mm. and Sam came up with his shoe.
“What are you gonna do with that, man?” Dean rolled his eyes and turned to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s your father, and you have exactly five seconds to let me in or I’m opening this door myself.”
“Oh shit! Dad! How did we forget about Dad?” Sam hissed as he grabbed as much of his clothing as he could scoop up on his run to the bathroom.
“You mean that wasn’t a booze induced nightmare? Wait, Sam wait! Do NOT leave me out here to face Dad on my own!” Dean hissed back to the closing bathroom door. “Just a minute, Dad!” Dean dove for his jeans and was still jerking them into place when John popped the lock on the door.
“Where’s Sam? He OK? You two uhm…done? I thought I heard…”
“You h…, um, Dad? Why the sudden entrance?” Dean took a chance and turned his back on his father to grab his shirt off the lamp and jerk it on. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Please don’t let me have to talk to Dad about sex with my brother. Dean glanced toward the bathroom door. Sam could come out any time now, aannny time now. The shower kicked on in the bathroom.
John didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t sure what he had planned to actually do when he barged in on his sons this morning. He just knew he felt guilty for not helping last night when Sam asked him to. “I came to make sure you finished the job.” That’s right, all business; John would be OK if he thought of this as just another job dealing with the supernatural. He could deal.
Dean cocked one eyebrow at his dad, “You didn’t think I could finish the job? Who are you talking to here, Dad? I’ve been finishing the job for years now.” Not the time to argue with Dad, not the time….But damn, that was insulting.
“Well not the general…mechanics of it. I thought you might have trouble with the…” John gestured vaguely, “specifics.”
“Specifics, like the brother thing or the male thing?” Shut up, shut up! How could he possibly keep this charade going long enough to get out of this mess? He leaned over to grab his boots, thinking desperately. A man should at least be able to die with his boots on…owe, wrong move. Going commando in rough denim with a raw dick? Bad idea. Bending over to grab boots he really didn’t need? Very bad idea. Dean eased upright, adjusting his crotch behind his dangling boots hoping his dad wouldn’t notice.
“More like specific mechanics. I notice you got a little problem there. Can I assume your brother is just as sore?” John sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before taking a seat at the little table in the corner. “I should have stayed last night. At least to give you some pointers.” John hesitated trying to figure out how to talk to his grown son about the mechanics of gay sex. With his brother, oh god, he couldn’t do this. John stared at his hands and forced himself to talk. “Guess you figured out that sex between two dudes is a little different, huh? I should have made sure you at least had lube. That’s short for lubricant. If I’d made sure you had some you wouldn’t be feeling like you do now. And condoms, Dean you gotta use condoms. Not for pregnancy, of course you can’t get your brother pregnant, but you have to use condoms for other reasons. STD’s, bladder infections, other stuff.” John never looked up from his hands in his lap. “And you gotta stretch his um..you know, before you do the deed or you could hurt him. You did that right? He’s not hurt or anything is he?”
“Umm, no…no he’s OK.” Dean didn’t know when he had sat on the bed, but he was glad he was sitting down. “How…wow, that’s a lot of specifics. How do you know all this, Dad?”
John looked up for the first time since he started his monologue. He gave Dean a rueful grin, “Put your boots on, son.”
Dean looked like a fish out of water gasping for his last breath. He tried to speak, but no sound made it past his constricted windpipe. The shower stopped in the bathroom.
“Shut your mouth, boy, you’re catching flies.” John rubbed his tightening forehead. “Go get some breakfast; I want to talk to Sam alone.”
Dean thought he should feel some sort of betrayal to his lover by leaving Sam alone with Dad to talk about last night, but damnit, who had ducked conveniently into the bathroom and left him to hear about lube and STD’s? Sam had it coming. Dean rammed his bare feet into his boots, grabbed his wallet and keys off the dresser and was out before anyone could change their mind, especially him.
The bathroom door popped open a crack and a hazel eye peered out of the opening. “He gone?”
“Yeah, son. He’s gone, come on out. I want to talk to you.”
Sam swallowed hard wondering where his bravado of last night had gone. Probably with the Tequila he just pissed down the drain. Why was Dad waiting for him and where the hell was Dean? He was so gonna get it for abandoning him.
Sam looked nervously around the shabby motel room, anywhere but at his dad. Oh, god, where was he going to sit? He had started for the bed, but it was the bed, that still had his cum on the headboard! And the rumpled sheets with their own set of stains, and the room reeked of sex. He couldn’t sit on the bed. But that left the chair next to his dad. He couldn’t sit that close to his dad either. He obviously had waffled too long in his decision, because John kicked the chair opposite him across the floor, dumping dirty laundry and take-out trash in its wake. “Sit.”
Sam jumped, “Ye-yessir” before easing into his seat, sitting more toward his balls than his tender ass. Dean had really gotten carried away there at the end, not that Sam was complaining. The only problem with this position was that he couldn’t slouch. He had always slouched around Dad, especially when he was seated for a lecture he didn’t want to be a part of. Like he said, always. Sitting up and leaning forward implied an interest he had never shown before. Sam wasn’t sure how to handle it. He decided to follow his dad’s lead. He didn’t have to wait long.
“How much of last night do you remember?” John stared at his youngest over steepled fingers, elbows resting on the table. His dad got to slouch.
“Dad, I’m really sorry…”
“Answer the question, Sam. How much do you remember?”
“Al..mos..almost all of it, I think?” Sam MAY have been drunk enough to have forgotten something, right? Not the part where he had been just drunk enough to have initiated this outrageous scam on their father, but something surely. Where was Dean?
“Are you OK?”
“Umm, yeah. I’m…yeah, OK.”
“Are you mad at your brother?”
“At Dean? No!...no, he did what he had to do.” What exactly had he told Dad about the specifics of his made-up curse? Come on, that is not what he wanted to forget about last night! “He did what I asked him to do. He saved me, like always.”
“Are you mad at yourself? For what Dean had to do?”
“No.” Sam stared at the gummy carpet between his feet. He took a deep breath and called on every skill of the con his father and brother had ever taught him. “We talked, last night. All night. I never heard Dean open up so much; I didn’t think he had it in him.” Sam added a wry chuckle as a special effect and was careful not to look up at his dad just yet. It wasn’t time for the shy glance, not yet. “We…we’re OK. It can make us stronger, one less barrier - one less weapon that can be used against us.” Cue shy glance to gauge Dad’s bullshit meter, and touchdown!
And in for the conversation kill! “A little embarrassed here, Dad. What I did last night? I’m sorry for, you know, um, against your leg, and asking you to…uhmm…” Sam finished the sentence with a non-verbal wave as he dropped his gaze back to the carpet. “I’d rather not talk about it anymore. Think I’m all talked out.” There, that should end this painful conversation once and for all.
“Being with a man like that can change you, change how you see yourself, how you feel about yourself. You OK with that?”
Oh for the love of…will this ever end? What would be worse in Dad’s eyes? A het centered son dealing with the fallout from virgin gay sex, or a bi son who had prior experience? God, where was Dean?
Sam took a chance on the less emotionally crippling of the two options. “This wasn’t exactly my first time.” Now he couldn’t look up even if the con had demanded it. This was suddenly real. He was coming out to his dad. How had he allowed himself to fall into this trap? He could have played the hurt het boy without it getting to him like this. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I cannot believe I just told you that.” Sam rubbed his face and ran his hand over the top of his hair, pushing his bangs back.
“But Jess, your girlfriend…?”
“Equal opportunity.” Sam didn’t know why he couldn’t say Bi or Gay to his dad.
“Your brother know?”
“He’s always known.” Sam sighed. This has gone far enough. It didn’t feel like a joke on Dad anymore. “Look, Dad. Thanks for worrying about us, but Dean and I? We’re good. Hell, after last night, we’re better than good. We’re as close as two people can get. And I’m going to go find him and make sure he still knows that.” Sam only paused long enough to grab his shoes as he stormed out the door.
John sat alone in the cluttered motel room mulling over the conversation he had just had with his son, his mind whirling so fast he couldn’t settle on one thought long enough for it to gel into fruition. Finally, he sighed and pulled out his cell phone. He knew when he was in over his head. He needed backup. He hit speed dial number three.
“Bobby, have you ever heard of a curse that would make you have to sleep with your brother to break it?’ John didn’t waste time on pleasantries like announcing who he was, or asking how Bobby was doing. He jumped right in.
Bobby laughed for a solid five minutes before he could ask, “What’d you do? Walk in on your boys?”
“Robert Singer, you better explain yourself right now.”
“You did, didn’t you! And they fed you that line about a curse? That’s a good one!”
“Bob, shut up and start talking!”
“John, your boys have been together for a long time. Lasted longer than a lot of marriages I know of. I thought you knew and was just ignoring it so you didn’t have to deal with it.”
“So there’s no such thing as this curse?”
“No such thing. Imaginative bastards, I bet that was Sam came up with that one.”
“They tried to con me, Bobby. My own boys.” John slumped in his chair.
“Appears as though they did more than tried, John. This little curse? Seems to be their grand finale in a long line of successful scams of keeping you in the dark. I’m sorry, man. I thought you already knew.”
“But Dean had all the signs of a raw…, and Sam even sat funny. I could have sworn it was their first time, both of them.”
“Damn good actors you raised there, John. They should be in Hollywood making millions.” Bobby paused, “John, come on out to my place and leave your boys be for a while. Let this sink in before you do anything to get back at them. Hell, you gotta give them credit for being able to put one over on the great John Winchester.”
“Maybe, but Bobby, you didn’t see what Sam did last night, how far he went to convince me. Hell, he humped my leg and said fuck me daddy.”
“Oh, John, why don’t you come on out here and show me exactly how bad your boys have been? I promise to do my best to make you sit funny too.” Bobby’s voice had dropped another notch. “And after, we could plan a little payback together.”
John smiled into the phone. “I could do that.”
In the diner across the street, Sam and Dean stirred their respective lumps of congealing eggs with their toast. “What do you think he’ll do now? Do you think I went too far admitting I’m Bi and you’ve known for years? You think he’ll ever talk to me again?”
“Don’t think that, Sammy. Dad’ll stew for a while and then get over it. It’s not like he’s a homophobe or anything. I’m more worried about you telling him that we’re better than OK. How’s he supposed to take that, Sam? Sounds like a pretty firm “I’m effing my brother, and I like it” to me, man. You didn’t have to rub his nose in it.”
“I didn’t!” Sam started, but couldn’t continue to lie to himself or Dean. “Yeah, I guess I did. It just came out. You regret being with me, now that Dad knows?”
Dean grinned that special lascivious smile he reserved just for Sam. “No, I’m effing my brother and I like it, too. And I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.” Dean took a bite of cold toast, “He never did say why he tracked us down.”
“Guess he’ll tell us when we…”
Dean’s phone beeped, announcing a text message. Dean scanned the text as Sam watched a black truck tear out of the motel parking lot heading north. “There he goes.”
“He left us coordinates to a hunt. You done with breakfast?” Dean was already digging through his wallet.
Sam smiled, “You think this is his way of saying we’re OK?”
“He trusts us with a hunt. So, all’s right in his world. Come on Sammy, shake a leg, we got evil to kill.”
“Right behind you, Dean.” Sam said suggestively.
“You wish.” Dean laughed as he pushed his way out of the diner.
“Tonight.” Sam patted his brother’s ass before shoving Dean out of the way to duck into their room to gather their gear.
Series: Bluffing their way to Ecstasy
Category: Slash, Humor
Rating: NC17
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, John
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural. Just playing with the characters.
Summary: Is Sam really infected or is he lying to his daddy?
John stared into his coffee as he let his cooling eggs turn into a plastic lump on his plate. He shouldn’t have run out on Sam last night. He shouldn’t have left Dean to pick up the pieces once again. How many times had he allowed Dean to throw himself on the proverbial sword when it came to his little brother because it was easier on John not to be the parent he was supposed to be? Dean’s eyes from last night had haunted his sleep with their continual changing from guarded to steely to something darker, hidden. But it was Dean’s command that John should walk away and let him take care of his little brother like he always has that kept John up all night.
His boys had always been so close. How could that relationship survive what Dean obviously had to do to protect Sam last night? The kind of forced intimacy his sons had to endure last night because of something supernatural could break their very spirit as well as their closeness as brothers. Would Sam remember that he had begged his father to take him; that he had humped his leg like a bitch in heat? Would he feel violated on the deepest level after Dean finished the ritual? Would Dean feel raped as well because of what he was forced to do to his brother?
John couldn’t imagine either of them being able to look each other in the eye, let alone be able to work together like nothing had happened. No they would try, but one of them would end up hurt or dead. All it would take is one of the brothers hesitating to get close at the wrong moment. And that lack of hesitation is what made them such great hunters, such a great team. They practically lived inside each other’s skin, not afraid to cross normal boundaries when necessary, no hesitation to get close. That would all be over now because John was too much of a coward to stand up and take his son like a man when Sam begged him to. No, he had to run and leave Dean to pick up the pieces once again. Well isn’t this fanfuckingtastic? He’s thinking in circles now, like a bad movie that’s always on TV. And this is where he came in.
John took a sip of his coffee and grimaced in distaste as the now cold brew hit his tongue. Enough thinking, it was getting him nowhere anyway. John was a man of action and he had hesitated enough.
Sam woke slowly and pressed back into Dean seeking more contact before he was fully cognizant that his motion was causing Dean’s morning wood to ride the cleft of his still slick ass crack. As he became more aware, Sam started his favorite morning after game, trying to catch Dean’s dick with nothing but his asshole as they slowly rocked in unison. Extra points if Dean was still asleep. He almost had it, just a little higher up on the next undulation and that cock would slide home.
“Cut it out Sam, my dick is still sore from last night. Next time you shave first; razor stubble’s a bitch.” Dean, nonetheless, pulled Sam tighter into his arms and continued the gentle rocking motion as they lay spooned together.
“Why don’t you shave me now and then we can start all over again? Do a repeat of last night all day?” Sam was still rocking, but his goal now was more challenging, what with Dean awake and countering his moves.
“Cause the stubble burn’s still there you moron, and I’m hungry.” Dean was still rocking against Sam, but controlling how close Sam was allowed to the head. He knew it was driving his brother crazy; served him right, the prickly fucker.
“I’m hungry too” Sam became more aggressive with his lift and wiggle, and almost caught the prize. On the next undulation, he cheated and grabbed his brother’s hip to keep it in place as he pushed back, twisted up and finally sucked Dean’s dick into his hungry hole. “Unhh, yeah, that’s what I needed; feeling full now.” Sam kept Dean’s hip firmly in his vice-like grip and set up an easy rocking rhythm Dean couldn’t help but match.
Dean soon couldn’t take it anymore and pushed into his brother hard, burying his cock balls deep before breaking the death grip Sam had on his hip and flipping his prickly asshole of a brother face first into the mattress. “You just gotta be fucked again don’t you?” Dean pounded a hard exclamation point into Sam with each point he made. “Don’t care one damn bit about my poor…shredded…aching…dick…do you…bitch?” Dean adjusted his knees to take more of his weight so his hands would be free. He jammed his thumbs into Sam’s ass on either side of his dick and spread Sam wide as he set up a brutally hard pounding rhythm.
Sam push up on his knees, his ass following Dean’s dick like a flower follows the sun. “Oh gguhh, Dean, there… again… hit…yeah…unhh…s’good. Stubble’s…your fault…was you’re…idea…to shave…uhnng…my…ass…jerk.” Sam locked his knees and forearms and rocked back hard into Dean’s every thrust, giving as good as he got.
Dean felt like he was fucking into a brick wall of muscle. God, it was good. He pushed his thumbs deeper and spread his brother wider to keep as much of the razor stubble away from his dick as he could. He matched his brother in muscle and soon let fly with all he had. “You’re fault…for having…a hairy…ass.”
“Fucking…stubble…pokes me….all damn…day. Don’t see…me crying.” Sam was panting hard now, and his thighs were beginning to tremble like they had when he and Dean had first started their relationship, back when he was still new to anal sex. He didn’t know he had missed that trembly feeling until he had it back again. “Letting…ungh…stubble grow…out. Deal w…hair…jerk.”
“Lazer…hair…removal’s…in your…future, bitch.” Dean grunted as he changed up the rhythm for a slower, distance eating pounding.
Sam grinned as he egged his brother to really put his back into it and pound him harder. He was going to be walking as bowlegged as his brother after this.
Dean met the challenge and slammed his brother closer to the headboard, inch by inch, thrust by thrust despite Sam’s wall of muscle slamming back onto Dean in counterpoint. Thank god the bed was bolted to the floor.
“Come for me, bitch.” Dean was dripping sweat onto Sam’s back. He could feel the promise of a blinding orgasm begin to swirl in his gut, his balls began to draw up and his dick began to swell, but he was determined that Sam get there first. He paused ever so slightly to run his broad tongue through the little puddle of sweat in the small of Sam’s back, ending with a kiss between his shoulder blades.
“Make me, jerk.” Sam was hanging on by his toenails, his toes were curled tight, his prostate was shooting sparks through his gut straight into his dick and balls with every hit of Dean’s dick, and this swirly love feeling was clutching at his chest in direct response to that tongue trail and kiss. But, he was determined that Dean would come first this time.
Dean played dirty pool because he always played to win. This encounter was no exception. He pushed one thumb in deeper and wiggled his first and middle finger in along side of it. Pulling his other thumb out, he wrapped his arm around Sam’s chest and pulled. Sam was soon upright on his knees, deeply impaled on Dean’s dick and fingers. Then Dean tweaked Sam’s nipples before caressing down to Sam’s dick where he set up a relentless rhythm. Dean’s fingers imbedded in Sam’s ass were getting in the way of his dick’s ability to go deeper into his brother’s heat. So with his juice covered fingers fresh from Sam’s ass, Dean grabbed Sam’s jaw and turned his head for a bruising kiss. Dean then slid a finger into Sam’s mouth. “Taste us, Sam. Our cum from last night, your hot ass and my dick now. Fucking fantastic.” Sam made fucking love to Dean’s finger with his talented tongue. Dean groaned and dove back into Sam’s mouth for a taste of his own right from Sam’s lips as he continued to rock firmly into Sam’s heat and stimulate Sam’s dick with his other hand.
Sam blew like a cannon, spraying the headboard and pillows with splattering ropes of hot, white cum, dragging Dean right behind him in every way.
Sam and Dean, still connected, were slowly melting into the mattress when someone started banging on the door loud enough to wake the dead. It even had an effect on the dead tired as Dean and Sam wrenched apart and rolled off opposite sides of the bed. Dean came up with his 9mm. and Sam came up with his shoe.
“What are you gonna do with that, man?” Dean rolled his eyes and turned to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s your father, and you have exactly five seconds to let me in or I’m opening this door myself.”
“Oh shit! Dad! How did we forget about Dad?” Sam hissed as he grabbed as much of his clothing as he could scoop up on his run to the bathroom.
“You mean that wasn’t a booze induced nightmare? Wait, Sam wait! Do NOT leave me out here to face Dad on my own!” Dean hissed back to the closing bathroom door. “Just a minute, Dad!” Dean dove for his jeans and was still jerking them into place when John popped the lock on the door.
“Where’s Sam? He OK? You two uhm…done? I thought I heard…”
“You h…, um, Dad? Why the sudden entrance?” Dean took a chance and turned his back on his father to grab his shirt off the lamp and jerk it on. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Please don’t let me have to talk to Dad about sex with my brother. Dean glanced toward the bathroom door. Sam could come out any time now, aannny time now. The shower kicked on in the bathroom.
John didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t sure what he had planned to actually do when he barged in on his sons this morning. He just knew he felt guilty for not helping last night when Sam asked him to. “I came to make sure you finished the job.” That’s right, all business; John would be OK if he thought of this as just another job dealing with the supernatural. He could deal.
Dean cocked one eyebrow at his dad, “You didn’t think I could finish the job? Who are you talking to here, Dad? I’ve been finishing the job for years now.” Not the time to argue with Dad, not the time….But damn, that was insulting.
“Well not the general…mechanics of it. I thought you might have trouble with the…” John gestured vaguely, “specifics.”
“Specifics, like the brother thing or the male thing?” Shut up, shut up! How could he possibly keep this charade going long enough to get out of this mess? He leaned over to grab his boots, thinking desperately. A man should at least be able to die with his boots on…owe, wrong move. Going commando in rough denim with a raw dick? Bad idea. Bending over to grab boots he really didn’t need? Very bad idea. Dean eased upright, adjusting his crotch behind his dangling boots hoping his dad wouldn’t notice.
“More like specific mechanics. I notice you got a little problem there. Can I assume your brother is just as sore?” John sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before taking a seat at the little table in the corner. “I should have stayed last night. At least to give you some pointers.” John hesitated trying to figure out how to talk to his grown son about the mechanics of gay sex. With his brother, oh god, he couldn’t do this. John stared at his hands and forced himself to talk. “Guess you figured out that sex between two dudes is a little different, huh? I should have made sure you at least had lube. That’s short for lubricant. If I’d made sure you had some you wouldn’t be feeling like you do now. And condoms, Dean you gotta use condoms. Not for pregnancy, of course you can’t get your brother pregnant, but you have to use condoms for other reasons. STD’s, bladder infections, other stuff.” John never looked up from his hands in his lap. “And you gotta stretch his um..you know, before you do the deed or you could hurt him. You did that right? He’s not hurt or anything is he?”
“Umm, no…no he’s OK.” Dean didn’t know when he had sat on the bed, but he was glad he was sitting down. “How…wow, that’s a lot of specifics. How do you know all this, Dad?”
John looked up for the first time since he started his monologue. He gave Dean a rueful grin, “Put your boots on, son.”
Dean looked like a fish out of water gasping for his last breath. He tried to speak, but no sound made it past his constricted windpipe. The shower stopped in the bathroom.
“Shut your mouth, boy, you’re catching flies.” John rubbed his tightening forehead. “Go get some breakfast; I want to talk to Sam alone.”
Dean thought he should feel some sort of betrayal to his lover by leaving Sam alone with Dad to talk about last night, but damnit, who had ducked conveniently into the bathroom and left him to hear about lube and STD’s? Sam had it coming. Dean rammed his bare feet into his boots, grabbed his wallet and keys off the dresser and was out before anyone could change their mind, especially him.
The bathroom door popped open a crack and a hazel eye peered out of the opening. “He gone?”
“Yeah, son. He’s gone, come on out. I want to talk to you.”
Sam swallowed hard wondering where his bravado of last night had gone. Probably with the Tequila he just pissed down the drain. Why was Dad waiting for him and where the hell was Dean? He was so gonna get it for abandoning him.
Sam looked nervously around the shabby motel room, anywhere but at his dad. Oh, god, where was he going to sit? He had started for the bed, but it was the bed, that still had his cum on the headboard! And the rumpled sheets with their own set of stains, and the room reeked of sex. He couldn’t sit on the bed. But that left the chair next to his dad. He couldn’t sit that close to his dad either. He obviously had waffled too long in his decision, because John kicked the chair opposite him across the floor, dumping dirty laundry and take-out trash in its wake. “Sit.”
Sam jumped, “Ye-yessir” before easing into his seat, sitting more toward his balls than his tender ass. Dean had really gotten carried away there at the end, not that Sam was complaining. The only problem with this position was that he couldn’t slouch. He had always slouched around Dad, especially when he was seated for a lecture he didn’t want to be a part of. Like he said, always. Sitting up and leaning forward implied an interest he had never shown before. Sam wasn’t sure how to handle it. He decided to follow his dad’s lead. He didn’t have to wait long.
“How much of last night do you remember?” John stared at his youngest over steepled fingers, elbows resting on the table. His dad got to slouch.
“Dad, I’m really sorry…”
“Answer the question, Sam. How much do you remember?”
“Al..mos..almost all of it, I think?” Sam MAY have been drunk enough to have forgotten something, right? Not the part where he had been just drunk enough to have initiated this outrageous scam on their father, but something surely. Where was Dean?
“Are you OK?”
“Umm, yeah. I’m…yeah, OK.”
“Are you mad at your brother?”
“At Dean? No!...no, he did what he had to do.” What exactly had he told Dad about the specifics of his made-up curse? Come on, that is not what he wanted to forget about last night! “He did what I asked him to do. He saved me, like always.”
“Are you mad at yourself? For what Dean had to do?”
“No.” Sam stared at the gummy carpet between his feet. He took a deep breath and called on every skill of the con his father and brother had ever taught him. “We talked, last night. All night. I never heard Dean open up so much; I didn’t think he had it in him.” Sam added a wry chuckle as a special effect and was careful not to look up at his dad just yet. It wasn’t time for the shy glance, not yet. “We…we’re OK. It can make us stronger, one less barrier - one less weapon that can be used against us.” Cue shy glance to gauge Dad’s bullshit meter, and touchdown!
And in for the conversation kill! “A little embarrassed here, Dad. What I did last night? I’m sorry for, you know, um, against your leg, and asking you to…uhmm…” Sam finished the sentence with a non-verbal wave as he dropped his gaze back to the carpet. “I’d rather not talk about it anymore. Think I’m all talked out.” There, that should end this painful conversation once and for all.
“Being with a man like that can change you, change how you see yourself, how you feel about yourself. You OK with that?”
Oh for the love of…will this ever end? What would be worse in Dad’s eyes? A het centered son dealing with the fallout from virgin gay sex, or a bi son who had prior experience? God, where was Dean?
Sam took a chance on the less emotionally crippling of the two options. “This wasn’t exactly my first time.” Now he couldn’t look up even if the con had demanded it. This was suddenly real. He was coming out to his dad. How had he allowed himself to fall into this trap? He could have played the hurt het boy without it getting to him like this. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I cannot believe I just told you that.” Sam rubbed his face and ran his hand over the top of his hair, pushing his bangs back.
“But Jess, your girlfriend…?”
“Equal opportunity.” Sam didn’t know why he couldn’t say Bi or Gay to his dad.
“Your brother know?”
“He’s always known.” Sam sighed. This has gone far enough. It didn’t feel like a joke on Dad anymore. “Look, Dad. Thanks for worrying about us, but Dean and I? We’re good. Hell, after last night, we’re better than good. We’re as close as two people can get. And I’m going to go find him and make sure he still knows that.” Sam only paused long enough to grab his shoes as he stormed out the door.
John sat alone in the cluttered motel room mulling over the conversation he had just had with his son, his mind whirling so fast he couldn’t settle on one thought long enough for it to gel into fruition. Finally, he sighed and pulled out his cell phone. He knew when he was in over his head. He needed backup. He hit speed dial number three.
“Bobby, have you ever heard of a curse that would make you have to sleep with your brother to break it?’ John didn’t waste time on pleasantries like announcing who he was, or asking how Bobby was doing. He jumped right in.
Bobby laughed for a solid five minutes before he could ask, “What’d you do? Walk in on your boys?”
“Robert Singer, you better explain yourself right now.”
“You did, didn’t you! And they fed you that line about a curse? That’s a good one!”
“Bob, shut up and start talking!”
“John, your boys have been together for a long time. Lasted longer than a lot of marriages I know of. I thought you knew and was just ignoring it so you didn’t have to deal with it.”
“So there’s no such thing as this curse?”
“No such thing. Imaginative bastards, I bet that was Sam came up with that one.”
“They tried to con me, Bobby. My own boys.” John slumped in his chair.
“Appears as though they did more than tried, John. This little curse? Seems to be their grand finale in a long line of successful scams of keeping you in the dark. I’m sorry, man. I thought you already knew.”
“But Dean had all the signs of a raw…, and Sam even sat funny. I could have sworn it was their first time, both of them.”
“Damn good actors you raised there, John. They should be in Hollywood making millions.” Bobby paused, “John, come on out to my place and leave your boys be for a while. Let this sink in before you do anything to get back at them. Hell, you gotta give them credit for being able to put one over on the great John Winchester.”
“Maybe, but Bobby, you didn’t see what Sam did last night, how far he went to convince me. Hell, he humped my leg and said fuck me daddy.”
“Oh, John, why don’t you come on out here and show me exactly how bad your boys have been? I promise to do my best to make you sit funny too.” Bobby’s voice had dropped another notch. “And after, we could plan a little payback together.”
John smiled into the phone. “I could do that.”
In the diner across the street, Sam and Dean stirred their respective lumps of congealing eggs with their toast. “What do you think he’ll do now? Do you think I went too far admitting I’m Bi and you’ve known for years? You think he’ll ever talk to me again?”
“Don’t think that, Sammy. Dad’ll stew for a while and then get over it. It’s not like he’s a homophobe or anything. I’m more worried about you telling him that we’re better than OK. How’s he supposed to take that, Sam? Sounds like a pretty firm “I’m effing my brother, and I like it” to me, man. You didn’t have to rub his nose in it.”
“I didn’t!” Sam started, but couldn’t continue to lie to himself or Dean. “Yeah, I guess I did. It just came out. You regret being with me, now that Dad knows?”
Dean grinned that special lascivious smile he reserved just for Sam. “No, I’m effing my brother and I like it, too. And I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.” Dean took a bite of cold toast, “He never did say why he tracked us down.”
“Guess he’ll tell us when we…”
Dean’s phone beeped, announcing a text message. Dean scanned the text as Sam watched a black truck tear out of the motel parking lot heading north. “There he goes.”
“He left us coordinates to a hunt. You done with breakfast?” Dean was already digging through his wallet.
Sam smiled, “You think this is his way of saying we’re OK?”
“He trusts us with a hunt. So, all’s right in his world. Come on Sammy, shake a leg, we got evil to kill.”
“Right behind you, Dean.” Sam said suggestively.
“You wish.” Dean laughed as he pushed his way out of the diner.
“Tonight.” Sam patted his brother’s ass before shoving Dean out of the way to duck into their room to gather their gear.