Dirty
Dirty
He turned over on his side, trying to get to sleep but it was hard the way Dean was tossing and turning. Sam sighed, thought about banging his head against the wall, thought about banging Dean’s head against the wall, but then Dean was right behind him, his hand gripping tightly to Sam’s hip.
He bit at the nape of his little brother’s neck as his hand moved down until his fingers were lightly skating over the edge of his waist band. Sam bit his lip to keep quiet. It wasn’t like they were alone, but if he kept quiet they were far enough away that no one would notice. He hoped.
Dean worked his button free and slid his hand down as the zipper gave way. Sam brought his hand up to his mouth, biting his fingers to keep quiet. His hips pumped up into Dean’s fist as he stroked Sam fast and hard.
He came quickly, heat and fear of discovery, right and wrong and shame and need all making it so much dirtier than it already was. Dean milked him through it, bringing his hand to Sam’s lips when he was done. Sam licked his hand clean and turned into Dean, his brother chasing the taste of come from his mouth.
The hard fall of boots made the brothers look up and Cameron stood above them, a small smirk on her face. They didn’t say anything and she moved past, the programmed emotion gone once they had witnessed it.
Dean dropped his head to Sam’s shoulder to stifle the laugh. Sam smacked him on the back of the head but he was smiling also.
“Hey Sam, you think John would let us play with Barbie again sometime?”
Sam groaned because really, it wasn’t dirty enough to be rutting against his brother in the nasty hallways of the current bunker. Dean had to want to add metal to the act too. Damned if it didn’t make him want to ask though.
On To Watching