SPN: Sam/Dean, NC-17
Title: Out of Your Damn Mind
Authors: kueble & kashmir1
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2735
Summary: Sam knows Dean loves him, and he knows he loves the Impala, but he had no idea his feelings for both ran this deep.
Notes: So kashmir1 and I wanted to see if we could write together and this happened :)
The first time Sam realizes that something weird is going on with Dean, he's pinned against the hood of the Impala with his pants around his knees and Dean's cock in his ass. As Dean thrusts into him, fucking him against the warm metal of the car, and it suddenly clicks that this isn't the first time.
Sam remembers one of the first times they ever, ever fucked - out and out fucked not just frantic hand jobs in the some random hotel room - had been him bent over the hood of the Impala. They'd just finished a hunt, one of the first ones since Stanford and Jess and things were still working themselves out between them. They hadn't started up immediately with the touching and kissing that had been so common before Sam left. But it had escalated until that night when Dean just bent him over and fucked him stupid on the dew damp metal of his car.
He can feel the differences, though. That time had been all about hard and fast and oh god need. This time it was slower, like they had nothing to do for hours but rock their bodies against the side of the car. Dean was the only constant for Sam, had always been. He stretched Sam open, slow thrusts of his hips, and bent down to nibble at Sam's earlobe. Sam clenched his hands into fists, unable to grab hold of the hood of the car, but needing to do something because it felt so damn good. He didn't care if this was weird, if Dean had some kind of a car fetish. As long as Dean kept fucking him, Sam would go with it; with Dean.
Dean made a soft, needy sound behind him and if Sam hadn't been so attuned to everything that was Dean he would have missed it. But he knew... knew what that sound meant. He snaked his right hand down over his stomach to his own aching erection and started to stroke, knowing his brother was thisclose to coming and dammit, Sam wanted to be right there with him when he did.
His hand was hot from leaning on the sun-warmed hood of the Impala and he groaned as he wrapped his fingers around his cock. Dean moved back, tilting Sam's hips just enough to give Sam room to work a hand between his cock and the car. Then Dean was all out pounding into him, slamming into him with frantic need. Dean's mouth found his neck, his teeth digging roughly into Sam's shoulder, and that was all he could take. Sam cried out as his orgasm shot through him, spilling his seed in thick bursts against the black metal.
Sam blanked out for a few moments and when he came back to the world it was like stepping out of a vacuum. He was suddenly acutely aware of each of Dean's strangled breaths, his stuttered thrusts and his rough hands clutching his hips. He canted his hips back into Dean and encouraged him with his body and his words to let go. "Come on Dean, fuck, that's it... just let go... come on, come for me..."
Sam knows the power in his words, knows Dean loves it when he begs. "Wanna feel it Dean...come for me...in me...please..." Then there's a cool spot where Dean's teeth used to be, and all he can hears is a breathy "Sam" in his ear before Dean's coming in him. He loves the way Dean comes with his entire body; his fingers pressing into Sam's hips and his body tensing as he empties himself into Sam. Then he collapses, pressing Sam against the hood, and Sam goes back to thinking deja vu.
...
They've been driving for... Dean looks at his watch. Ten hours now. The sun is just starting to set and all he wants is some hot food, a cup of coffee and a warm bed with a warm, willing Sam in it. In that order. But they're in the middle of nowhere with no hotels or diners or anything but some cacti in sight and he sighs, loudly, over the thrumming beat of his Zeppelin tape.
He tries to keep his eyes on the road, as painful as it is to ignore the glances Sam's shooting his way. Of course, Sam doesn't think Dean can see the longing looks he's giving, but Dean always sees Sam; always has. So it's not really any surprise when he sees Sam slide a hand across the front seat and use those skillful fingers to unzip his pants. Still, it's pretty damn hot, so Dean smirks at him, grips the steering wheel tighter, and keeps on driving.
Dean tilts his head a little when Sam scoots across the bench seat, lips nibbling at that spot on Dean's jaw line that always sends him into overdrive. He squirms a bit more on the seat but continues to drive, the Arizona desert stretching out endlessly around them. Sam's fingers slowly made their way inside his jeans and he felt the shock go through Sam's body when he realized Dean was going commando underneath the rough denim. Sam pulled away and Dean chuckled, sneaking a glance at his brother. "Need to do some laundry."
"Don't bother," Sam laughs against his neck. Then it's all down to business, and Sam's tugging him out of his jeans. Dean somehow manages to lift his hips and not take his foot off the gas, so Sam slides his jeans down a bit, giving him room to breathe. Dean idly strokes his thumbs across the steering wheel, trying his best to keep the car in a straight line while Sam's tongue is trailing down his neck and Sam's hand is lazily stroking him, long fingers wrapped loosely around his throbbing dick.
He makes a sound that is embarrassingly like a squeak when Sam rubs his thumb right under the ridge of his dick. He grips the wheel tighter, fingers starting to ache from the strain as Sam lowers his head slowly, large hand just circling the base of Dean's hard on as he presses a soft kiss to the head before taking him deep inside.
Once he's enveloped in the wet heat of Sam's mouth, he knows he can't continue driving and getting sucked off at the same time. And damned if he was about to give up Sam, so he pulled over to the side of the road, tires squeaking as he stopped on the shoulder. He kept one hand on the wheel, but let the other move down to Sam's head, threading his fingers in the messy hair.
Sam hummed contentedly in his throat and the vibrations coursed through Dean, lighting up his blood stream. He arched his hips a little and Sam pushed him down with a strong, sure hand, after gagging a little. Dean mumbled a slurred 'sorry' before Sam took him deep in his throat and he gripped the wheel hard, knuckles going white as his head fell back to rest on the seat.
He reached a hand out and stroked up and down Sam's spine before giving up and just fisting his fingers in the soft material of Sam's hoodie. Dean fought to keep his eyes open, because really, getting blown while he was in the driver's seat of his car was the coolest fucking thing he could ever think of. He watched through long, slow blinks as Sam bobbed up and down on his cock. He let out a breathy moan when Sam's teeth lightly scrapped the underside, gently smacking his brother on the back of the head before crying out his name.
He felt Sam's lips curl in a smile around his dick and he groaned. If Sammy kept this up, Dean was going to come faster than he had since high school. Between that flicking thing Sam kept doing with his tongue and the fact that the two of things he cared for most were under his hands, Dean was well on his way to being pushed right over the edge.
Then he met Sam's eyes and was suddenly coming. He bucked his hips, nearly choking Sam, and shot his load down Sam's eager throat. His hand that had been on the steering wheel slipped down and accidentally honked the horn. The sound echoed across the desert landscape, matching Dean's raspy "Sam!"
Sam swallowed then sat up slowly, his eyes dancing with laughter. Dean reached out with a sluggish hand and wiped the corner of Sam's rosy, swollen mouth. He reached back and cupped Sam's nape, pulling him in. "C'mere," he slurred in a whisper.
As their lips brushed, he had a fleeting thought that maybe the taste of his come on Sammy's lips shouldn't be so damn familiar, but then he was too busy to give a damn. He quickly undid Sam's zipper, swallowing his brother's whimpers as he palmed his cock. He didn't bother taking Sam out of his jeans, knew that he was too close. Dean rubbed him through his boxers and nipped at his lower lip. He wanted this to be quick and messy; wanted Sam to be sitting in wet boxers until they reached civilization again.
He jerked Sam roughly, mumbling obscenities and harsh words into Sam's gasping mouth. He paused, rubbed this thumb over the tip, squeezing the shaft before starting to stroke again, harder and faster. He needed to see Sam come over his hand. "Come on, Sammy. God... do it for me, so fucking gorgeous..."
Dean pulled back, eyes locking with Sam's, and continued to slide his hand over his brother's cock. One final "Come for me...now" and Sam was grunting, his eyes going impossibly wide as he emptied himself in Dean's hand. Then Dean crushed their mouths together again, running his tongue over Sam's teeth while he quickly tucked him back in his jeans.
Sam collapsed back against the leather of the seat, pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed a shade of pink that shouldn't turn Dean on so damn much considering the mind-blowing orgasm he just had. He smiled at Sam wickedly and zipped himself back up. He checked the mirrors and his blind spot then pulled back onto the road. He looked over at Sam once more then winked. "You just wait until we get to a hotel room."
...
Sam looked up at Dean as they fucked, watched Dean's eyes flickering from Sam's face to the back of the seat, and he finally got it. He was pretty sure that most epiphanies didn't happen when one was getting thoroughly fucked in the backseat of a car, but Sam finally fucking got it. He ran his broad hands over Dean's forearms and met his brother's eyes. "You love us both," he whispered, not bothering to save the conversation for later. Dean's rhythm faltered a bit, and he stared down at Sam, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.
Sam tightened around Dean and chuckled a little as his brother's eyes slid shut. When Dean finally had himself back under control, he snapped his hips hard into Sam, this time making Sam moan and clutch at Dean. "I have no earthly idea what the hell you are talking about, Sammy. Now shut up the hell up and let me fuck you."
Sam was about to do that, because Dean's usually right about...well, everything, but then he noticed the way Dean's right hand was stroking across the leather of the backseat. He managed to blurt out, "But you're fucking both of us!" before he had to throw his head back and moan again.
Dean panted breathlessly into Sam's neck where he'd buried his face as his hips started to frantically thrust inside Sam. "Sammy... " He whined and bit down hard on Sam's neck before continuing. "There's only us in the car. Who the... oh god.. hell are you talking about?"
Sam raked his nails over Dean's shoulders, knowing full well that he was leaving marks, but not giving a damn. Why the hell had he started talking anyway? It was all he could do to grunt out, "The car, Dean. You're fucking the car...oh god" before he melted under Dean and wrapped his legs around his waist.
Dean started to chuckle but his laughter turned into a sort of breathless moan when Sam wound his legs around his waist. "You are.. oh fucking hell! Out of your damn mind, Sammy." He planted one hand right above Sam's left shoulder and started fucking him in earnest, his hips slapping noisily against Sam's.
Sam had to agree, because he was pretty fucking out of it, but that didn't mean that Dean's careless strokes of the leather meant any less. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock, aching for release. Dean was a sweet burn in his ass, constantly rubbing that perfect spot that made him shudder every damn time.
Dean blinked open glazed eyes and caught sight of Sam biting his lower lip at the same time that he felt Sam's hand start to brush his lower abdomen. Dean groaned and slid one hand under Sam's ass, lifting him just a bit higher so he could get that added depth to each thrust. He leaned down and traced the small indentation Sam had left in his bottom lip with his teeth with his tongue. "Come on, Sammy... let go. Just let go for me..."
Sam shifted his hips, letting Dean get the angle he was looking for. He licked his lips and watched Dean watching him. A couple more rough strokes and then he was coming, erupting between their stomachs. Sam smirked as his come splashed across Dean's abs, marking him in a way the Impala never could.
Dean groaned when Sam came and he gritted his teeth before absolutely letting go of all control and just fucking Sam into the leather of the seat. He buried his face in Sam's sweat damp neck, his lips forming Sam's name soundlessly as he became frantic in his need to come.
"Come on Dean...come for me...for us," Sam hissed, his breath fanning across Dean's sweat-slicked neck. He moaned, aftershocks of his orgasm cursing through him, and whispered, "Let go...come on me, on us Dean." Because yeah, he was better than a car, but if Dean was fucking both of them, he'd go along with it. It was just how they worked.
Dean felt a shudder wrack his body and though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he knew exactly what Sam was talking about, who the third participant was in this fucked up ménage a trois. He felt his orgasm race up his spine and he exhaled on Sam's name as he started to empty himself deep inside his brother.
Sam felt Dean lose it, felt him coming deep inside of him, and struggles to pull back. He ended up hitting his head against the door of the car, but managed to make Dean pull out of him. He watched with rapt eyes as Dean wrapped his hand around his cock and rode out his orgasm, his come landing on Sam's thighs and the seat of the car.
Dean let out a heartfelt 'fuck' as his orgasm ripped through him, eyes trained on Sammy's fucked out expression and naked, sprawled body. He collapsed panting, onto Sam and nuzzled his jaw a little. When he could breath normally again, he whispered into Sam's ear. "Dude. You are so cleaning the upholstery now."
All Sam could do was laugh, his body shaking underneath Dean. Then he mumbled, "Freak" into Dean's ear before pushing him back and off of his body. With a smirk in Dean's direction, Sam bent down and lapped at the leather. After a few wide swipes of his tongue, the car was mostly clean again.
Dean groaned as he watched Sam lap us his come with relish. "Dude, you are such a slut," he muttered, eyes and grin lazy as he smiled at Sam with affection. He was always a bit more open after a good orgasm.
Sam crawled up Dean's body and stretched out on top of him. There was no one around for miles, and he figured they could rest for a few more minutes. "Your slut," he said as he closed his eyes and listened to the hectic beating of Dean's heart.
Authors: kueble & kashmir1
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2735
Summary: Sam knows Dean loves him, and he knows he loves the Impala, but he had no idea his feelings for both ran this deep.
Notes: So kashmir1 and I wanted to see if we could write together and this happened :)
The first time Sam realizes that something weird is going on with Dean, he's pinned against the hood of the Impala with his pants around his knees and Dean's cock in his ass. As Dean thrusts into him, fucking him against the warm metal of the car, and it suddenly clicks that this isn't the first time.
Sam remembers one of the first times they ever, ever fucked - out and out fucked not just frantic hand jobs in the some random hotel room - had been him bent over the hood of the Impala. They'd just finished a hunt, one of the first ones since Stanford and Jess and things were still working themselves out between them. They hadn't started up immediately with the touching and kissing that had been so common before Sam left. But it had escalated until that night when Dean just bent him over and fucked him stupid on the dew damp metal of his car.
He can feel the differences, though. That time had been all about hard and fast and oh god need. This time it was slower, like they had nothing to do for hours but rock their bodies against the side of the car. Dean was the only constant for Sam, had always been. He stretched Sam open, slow thrusts of his hips, and bent down to nibble at Sam's earlobe. Sam clenched his hands into fists, unable to grab hold of the hood of the car, but needing to do something because it felt so damn good. He didn't care if this was weird, if Dean had some kind of a car fetish. As long as Dean kept fucking him, Sam would go with it; with Dean.
Dean made a soft, needy sound behind him and if Sam hadn't been so attuned to everything that was Dean he would have missed it. But he knew... knew what that sound meant. He snaked his right hand down over his stomach to his own aching erection and started to stroke, knowing his brother was thisclose to coming and dammit, Sam wanted to be right there with him when he did.
His hand was hot from leaning on the sun-warmed hood of the Impala and he groaned as he wrapped his fingers around his cock. Dean moved back, tilting Sam's hips just enough to give Sam room to work a hand between his cock and the car. Then Dean was all out pounding into him, slamming into him with frantic need. Dean's mouth found his neck, his teeth digging roughly into Sam's shoulder, and that was all he could take. Sam cried out as his orgasm shot through him, spilling his seed in thick bursts against the black metal.
Sam blanked out for a few moments and when he came back to the world it was like stepping out of a vacuum. He was suddenly acutely aware of each of Dean's strangled breaths, his stuttered thrusts and his rough hands clutching his hips. He canted his hips back into Dean and encouraged him with his body and his words to let go. "Come on Dean, fuck, that's it... just let go... come on, come for me..."
Sam knows the power in his words, knows Dean loves it when he begs. "Wanna feel it Dean...come for me...in me...please..." Then there's a cool spot where Dean's teeth used to be, and all he can hears is a breathy "Sam" in his ear before Dean's coming in him. He loves the way Dean comes with his entire body; his fingers pressing into Sam's hips and his body tensing as he empties himself into Sam. Then he collapses, pressing Sam against the hood, and Sam goes back to thinking deja vu.
...
They've been driving for... Dean looks at his watch. Ten hours now. The sun is just starting to set and all he wants is some hot food, a cup of coffee and a warm bed with a warm, willing Sam in it. In that order. But they're in the middle of nowhere with no hotels or diners or anything but some cacti in sight and he sighs, loudly, over the thrumming beat of his Zeppelin tape.
He tries to keep his eyes on the road, as painful as it is to ignore the glances Sam's shooting his way. Of course, Sam doesn't think Dean can see the longing looks he's giving, but Dean always sees Sam; always has. So it's not really any surprise when he sees Sam slide a hand across the front seat and use those skillful fingers to unzip his pants. Still, it's pretty damn hot, so Dean smirks at him, grips the steering wheel tighter, and keeps on driving.
Dean tilts his head a little when Sam scoots across the bench seat, lips nibbling at that spot on Dean's jaw line that always sends him into overdrive. He squirms a bit more on the seat but continues to drive, the Arizona desert stretching out endlessly around them. Sam's fingers slowly made their way inside his jeans and he felt the shock go through Sam's body when he realized Dean was going commando underneath the rough denim. Sam pulled away and Dean chuckled, sneaking a glance at his brother. "Need to do some laundry."
"Don't bother," Sam laughs against his neck. Then it's all down to business, and Sam's tugging him out of his jeans. Dean somehow manages to lift his hips and not take his foot off the gas, so Sam slides his jeans down a bit, giving him room to breathe. Dean idly strokes his thumbs across the steering wheel, trying his best to keep the car in a straight line while Sam's tongue is trailing down his neck and Sam's hand is lazily stroking him, long fingers wrapped loosely around his throbbing dick.
He makes a sound that is embarrassingly like a squeak when Sam rubs his thumb right under the ridge of his dick. He grips the wheel tighter, fingers starting to ache from the strain as Sam lowers his head slowly, large hand just circling the base of Dean's hard on as he presses a soft kiss to the head before taking him deep inside.
Once he's enveloped in the wet heat of Sam's mouth, he knows he can't continue driving and getting sucked off at the same time. And damned if he was about to give up Sam, so he pulled over to the side of the road, tires squeaking as he stopped on the shoulder. He kept one hand on the wheel, but let the other move down to Sam's head, threading his fingers in the messy hair.
Sam hummed contentedly in his throat and the vibrations coursed through Dean, lighting up his blood stream. He arched his hips a little and Sam pushed him down with a strong, sure hand, after gagging a little. Dean mumbled a slurred 'sorry' before Sam took him deep in his throat and he gripped the wheel hard, knuckles going white as his head fell back to rest on the seat.
He reached a hand out and stroked up and down Sam's spine before giving up and just fisting his fingers in the soft material of Sam's hoodie. Dean fought to keep his eyes open, because really, getting blown while he was in the driver's seat of his car was the coolest fucking thing he could ever think of. He watched through long, slow blinks as Sam bobbed up and down on his cock. He let out a breathy moan when Sam's teeth lightly scrapped the underside, gently smacking his brother on the back of the head before crying out his name.
He felt Sam's lips curl in a smile around his dick and he groaned. If Sammy kept this up, Dean was going to come faster than he had since high school. Between that flicking thing Sam kept doing with his tongue and the fact that the two of things he cared for most were under his hands, Dean was well on his way to being pushed right over the edge.
Then he met Sam's eyes and was suddenly coming. He bucked his hips, nearly choking Sam, and shot his load down Sam's eager throat. His hand that had been on the steering wheel slipped down and accidentally honked the horn. The sound echoed across the desert landscape, matching Dean's raspy "Sam!"
Sam swallowed then sat up slowly, his eyes dancing with laughter. Dean reached out with a sluggish hand and wiped the corner of Sam's rosy, swollen mouth. He reached back and cupped Sam's nape, pulling him in. "C'mere," he slurred in a whisper.
As their lips brushed, he had a fleeting thought that maybe the taste of his come on Sammy's lips shouldn't be so damn familiar, but then he was too busy to give a damn. He quickly undid Sam's zipper, swallowing his brother's whimpers as he palmed his cock. He didn't bother taking Sam out of his jeans, knew that he was too close. Dean rubbed him through his boxers and nipped at his lower lip. He wanted this to be quick and messy; wanted Sam to be sitting in wet boxers until they reached civilization again.
He jerked Sam roughly, mumbling obscenities and harsh words into Sam's gasping mouth. He paused, rubbed this thumb over the tip, squeezing the shaft before starting to stroke again, harder and faster. He needed to see Sam come over his hand. "Come on, Sammy. God... do it for me, so fucking gorgeous..."
Dean pulled back, eyes locking with Sam's, and continued to slide his hand over his brother's cock. One final "Come for me...now" and Sam was grunting, his eyes going impossibly wide as he emptied himself in Dean's hand. Then Dean crushed their mouths together again, running his tongue over Sam's teeth while he quickly tucked him back in his jeans.
Sam collapsed back against the leather of the seat, pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed a shade of pink that shouldn't turn Dean on so damn much considering the mind-blowing orgasm he just had. He smiled at Sam wickedly and zipped himself back up. He checked the mirrors and his blind spot then pulled back onto the road. He looked over at Sam once more then winked. "You just wait until we get to a hotel room."
...
Sam looked up at Dean as they fucked, watched Dean's eyes flickering from Sam's face to the back of the seat, and he finally got it. He was pretty sure that most epiphanies didn't happen when one was getting thoroughly fucked in the backseat of a car, but Sam finally fucking got it. He ran his broad hands over Dean's forearms and met his brother's eyes. "You love us both," he whispered, not bothering to save the conversation for later. Dean's rhythm faltered a bit, and he stared down at Sam, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.
Sam tightened around Dean and chuckled a little as his brother's eyes slid shut. When Dean finally had himself back under control, he snapped his hips hard into Sam, this time making Sam moan and clutch at Dean. "I have no earthly idea what the hell you are talking about, Sammy. Now shut up the hell up and let me fuck you."
Sam was about to do that, because Dean's usually right about...well, everything, but then he noticed the way Dean's right hand was stroking across the leather of the backseat. He managed to blurt out, "But you're fucking both of us!" before he had to throw his head back and moan again.
Dean panted breathlessly into Sam's neck where he'd buried his face as his hips started to frantically thrust inside Sam. "Sammy... " He whined and bit down hard on Sam's neck before continuing. "There's only us in the car. Who the... oh god.. hell are you talking about?"
Sam raked his nails over Dean's shoulders, knowing full well that he was leaving marks, but not giving a damn. Why the hell had he started talking anyway? It was all he could do to grunt out, "The car, Dean. You're fucking the car...oh god" before he melted under Dean and wrapped his legs around his waist.
Dean started to chuckle but his laughter turned into a sort of breathless moan when Sam wound his legs around his waist. "You are.. oh fucking hell! Out of your damn mind, Sammy." He planted one hand right above Sam's left shoulder and started fucking him in earnest, his hips slapping noisily against Sam's.
Sam had to agree, because he was pretty fucking out of it, but that didn't mean that Dean's careless strokes of the leather meant any less. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock, aching for release. Dean was a sweet burn in his ass, constantly rubbing that perfect spot that made him shudder every damn time.
Dean blinked open glazed eyes and caught sight of Sam biting his lower lip at the same time that he felt Sam's hand start to brush his lower abdomen. Dean groaned and slid one hand under Sam's ass, lifting him just a bit higher so he could get that added depth to each thrust. He leaned down and traced the small indentation Sam had left in his bottom lip with his teeth with his tongue. "Come on, Sammy... let go. Just let go for me..."
Sam shifted his hips, letting Dean get the angle he was looking for. He licked his lips and watched Dean watching him. A couple more rough strokes and then he was coming, erupting between their stomachs. Sam smirked as his come splashed across Dean's abs, marking him in a way the Impala never could.
Dean groaned when Sam came and he gritted his teeth before absolutely letting go of all control and just fucking Sam into the leather of the seat. He buried his face in Sam's sweat damp neck, his lips forming Sam's name soundlessly as he became frantic in his need to come.
"Come on Dean...come for me...for us," Sam hissed, his breath fanning across Dean's sweat-slicked neck. He moaned, aftershocks of his orgasm cursing through him, and whispered, "Let go...come on me, on us Dean." Because yeah, he was better than a car, but if Dean was fucking both of them, he'd go along with it. It was just how they worked.
Dean felt a shudder wrack his body and though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he knew exactly what Sam was talking about, who the third participant was in this fucked up ménage a trois. He felt his orgasm race up his spine and he exhaled on Sam's name as he started to empty himself deep inside his brother.
Sam felt Dean lose it, felt him coming deep inside of him, and struggles to pull back. He ended up hitting his head against the door of the car, but managed to make Dean pull out of him. He watched with rapt eyes as Dean wrapped his hand around his cock and rode out his orgasm, his come landing on Sam's thighs and the seat of the car.
Dean let out a heartfelt 'fuck' as his orgasm ripped through him, eyes trained on Sammy's fucked out expression and naked, sprawled body. He collapsed panting, onto Sam and nuzzled his jaw a little. When he could breath normally again, he whispered into Sam's ear. "Dude. You are so cleaning the upholstery now."
All Sam could do was laugh, his body shaking underneath Dean. Then he mumbled, "Freak" into Dean's ear before pushing him back and off of his body. With a smirk in Dean's direction, Sam bent down and lapped at the leather. After a few wide swipes of his tongue, the car was mostly clean again.
Dean groaned as he watched Sam lap us his come with relish. "Dude, you are such a slut," he muttered, eyes and grin lazy as he smiled at Sam with affection. He was always a bit more open after a good orgasm.
Sam crawled up Dean's body and stretched out on top of him. There was no one around for miles, and he figured they could rest for a few more minutes. "Your slut," he said as he closed his eyes and listened to the hectic beating of Dean's heart.