SPN: Sam/Dean, NC-17
Title: Giving In
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,263
Summary: Sam shows Dean what he's been missing out on.
Notes: This is set in my Everything 'Verse, so you might want to read those fics first. A huge thank you to neroli66 for the amazing beta job.
Sam didn’t want to push things, but he was on the verge of flipping out. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the familiar way Dean and he had slipped into their old routine, but he needed more. When he left for Stanford, he’d been stupid and young and running away from the best thing he’d ever known. He’d also been more of a virgin than he was now. Not a complete virgin, because Dean had taken care of that long ago, but damn if he didn’t miss getting fucked.
Just the thought of it took him back to his freshman year at Stanford. He could almost feel Jeremy’s hands on him again, settling him back against the pillows and telling him that everything would be fine. Sam hadn’t believed him then, but it didn’t take away from the experience. They always fucked in Jeremy’s frat house, discreetly leaving whatever party was going on downstairs and writhing against each other on Jeremy’s bed. It hadn’t lasted long, but the image of the blue and white Greek letters that were hung above Jeremy’s bed still got him worked up. Jeremy hadn’t been Dean, but he’d fucked Sam, which seemed to be the one thing Dean wouldn’t do.
He sighed and slumped back against the headboard, not even caring when his head smacked the wood. Looking down at his hands, he thought about how to reasonably ask what he was planning on asking. Dean didn’t seem to be getting the hint, no matter how many times Sam pushed his ass against him, practically begging Dean to spread him apart and slide his cock deep within him. Sam shivered, just picturing how Dean would look above him, or below him while Sam slowly rode him, hands pressed against the hard muscles of his chest.
Then the door burst open, and Dean walked in with a bag of groceries. Sam watched as he dropped the bag and then turned to give Sam a quizzical expression. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking around the room. He shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it over the back of one of the rickety chairs as he eyed Sam with concern.
“Why don’t we fuck?” Sam asked, his heart stopping as soon as the question left his mouth. God, he was so fucking stupid sometimes. Wasn’t he going to try and do this tactfully? He bit down on his lower lip to keep from laughing at the way Dean’s eyes bugged out or the chocked noises spilling out of his brother’s throat.
“We, um...we do stuff,” Dean told him, gesturing with his hand, and Sam could tell he’d be blushing, even if he couldn’t see it in the dim lighting of the motel room de jour.
“We could do more,” Sam said, sitting up. He squared his shoulders and made sure to meet Dean’s eyes before he continued. “I want you to fuck me.” He waited, breath caught in his chest as he watched Dean. Dean’s lips parted, and about a thousand emotions ran across his face. Sam could only pick out shock and confusion. Then there was a huge burst of anger and Dean shook his head.
“No,” he barked out, rushing to the door and storming out of the room.
Sam stared at the door, watching as it slammed shut, and shut his eyes. That went well he thought as his insides turned to dust.
--
Dean stared at the door, not really sure where he was going to go. The night air was cool, and he’d left his jacket in the room; the room that he certainly wasn’t going back into anytime soon. With a shrug, he turned and headed towards his car. He tried to blame the chill in his bones on the weather, but his mind kept coming back to an image of Sam sitting alone in the motel room, probably holding his head in his hands and managing to look so tiny in a way Dean never would have thought possible.
God, he wanted them to fuck? Dean jerked open the driver’s side door and slammed it closed behind him. He pounded his fists on the steering wheel a couple of times before hanging his head and closing his eyes. So yeah, Sam wanted them to take this whole fucked up existence to a new level. Wasn’t it enough that they did anything, let alone felt the way they did? Well, he couldn’t speak for Sam, but a part of him had been carved out, handed to Sam years ago. And now Sam wanted to change that, make it mean so much more, make them unable to deny the things they did.
And because it was Sam, and Dean was Dean, he was going to give in. It’s what he did, what he always did. Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to clear his mind, tried to pretend that his entire life hadn’t just been knocked on its ass. Why couldn’t Sam just leave things how they were?
Hand jobs and blow jobs were one thing, but...penetration? That was a whole new kind of scary. A kind Dean hadn’t had to face before. Sure, Sam wanted to be the one on the receiving end of things, but wasn’t it one more thing for Dean to protect him from? Because once that final step was taken, neither of them would ever be able to get out. They didn’t have a normal relationship, but Dean couldn’t handle losing the broken, fucked up and perfect thing they had. Once they took it a step further, there was no way he was letting Sam walk out on him again. Some lines couldn’t be uncrossed.
Until now, Dean had been able to convince himself he was just a rest stop, just a place holder for Sam. It wasn’t about making this last forever, Sam was just using him for comfort, and he was too damned willing to be used. If they took things further, would Sam be able to let Dean go? Because as much as he’d love to keep Sam by his side until his final day, Dean knew Sam wasn’t meant for him, knew he’d eventually have to let him go. Hell, they were brothers. Sam was destined for some small woman who would bear his children and cook him dinner. Dean couldn’t - wouldn’t - be those things.
Dean was so intent on his thoughts that the tap on the window made him jump. “Fuck!” he shouted as he snapped his head to the left and saw Sam smiling down at him. Against his better judgment, he threw open the door and turned to face his brother.
“I’m sorry I freaked you out,” Sam told him. He must have gotten dressed in a hurry, because he was shirtless and the button was undone on his jeans. Dean tried to look him in the eye, but he couldn’t help taking one long look up and down Sam’s body.
“It’s fine,” Dean said. He absentmindedly chewed on his thumbnail, giving himself an excuse to avoid Sam’s frowning glare.
“Dean, we’re so far from fine it’s not even an option.” He sighed and crouched down, balancing himself by placing his hands on Dean’s knees. His touch burned through the denim, and Dean knew he was going to give in, going to do whatever the hell Sam wanted, because that would keep him around that much longer. “I’ve done it before,” Sam admitted, his voice trailing off.
“What?” Dean asked. He put a hand on Sam’s chin and tugged his head up, searching his eyes for any signs of a lie. “Really? Were you...are you ok?”
“Yeah,” Sam said with a laugh. “Christ, Dean. It’s sex, not an execution. If you’re not comfortable with it, then forget I mentioned it, ok? Can we just go back inside?” And then Sam was giving him those trade mark puppy dog eyes and Dean’s willpower melted. He pushed Sam up, standing up with him. They leaned against the Impala, and Dean smiled before he pecked Sam quickly on the mouth.
“Let’s go fuck,” he said with a smirk. “Only you’re doing me. Not gonna let you do something I won’t do myself.”
“You don’t have to be such a martyr,” Sam said, hurrying to keep up with Dean. “It’s fun, you know. This whole thing called sex is actually pretty damn cool. You don’t have to do this, just fuck me, ok?”
“Shut up and get the...lube and stuff before I change my mind. You do have some, right?” Dean locked the door behind them and shrugged out of his shirt. He was naked before Sam could cross the room and dig into his duffle bag. Sam turned around and held up a bottle and a box of condoms, his face going wide with shock when he realized Dean was naked already.
“Way to take the romance out of it,” he said with a chuckle. He tossed the supplies at Dean, frowning when Dean looked down at them in shock.
“How long have you had this? It’s opened,” Dean told him, uncapping the lube and taking a precautionary sniff.
“Yeah, I’ve...used it. Had it since Lawrence.”
“Huh,” Dean recapped it, tossed it onto the bed, and motioned for Sam to get undressed.
--
Sam shoved his jeans over his hips, frowning at Dean’s back as his brother lay down on the bed and rested his head on his arms. His whole body was tense, and Sam could tell he was about to start shaking. Climbing onto the bed, Sam straddled Dean’s hips, running his strong hands over the smooth planes of Dean’s back, digging fingers into the knotted muscles of his shoulders.
When he bent down to nip lightly at Dean’s neck, scrapping his teeth over the tender flesh, he felt Dean tense up, shoulders flying up to his ears as he let out a harsh breath. “Dean?” he asked, nuzzling against the back of Dean’s neck. “What’s wrong?”
“Could you just do it?” Dean asked; his voice strained and quiet. Sam shook his head and tugged an earlobe into his mouth, gently biting down before releasing his hold.
“What do you think? That I’m just gonna stick it in and fuck you? Christ Dean…it’s good. I promise...let me make it good for you.” Sam sighed, rubbing his cheek against Dean’s and supporting his weight on his elbows. He waited until Dean gave a quick nod and tried to relax his body before he put more of his weight on his brother. Sam rolled his hips, his half hard cock brushing against the back of Dean’s thighs.
Then he pressed a soft kiss between Dean’s shoulder blades and licked and nipped his way down his back. He ran his hands over the small of Dean’s back, lightly tracing his thumbs over the dimples just above his ass. Dean let out a breath, and Sam took it as a sign, scooting further down the bed and settling himself between Dean’s spread thighs. He took a moment to enjoy the view, miles of golden, freckle scattered skin laid out before him. One day he was going to count those freckles, softly tongue each one until he had a concrete number, but he didn’t think Dean had the patience for it yet.
Sam got comfortable and lowered his face to Dean’s ass, gently biting first one cheek, then the other. Dean turned his head, looking over his shoulder to meet Sam’s gaze, his eyes full of questions. Sam smiled at him and slowly spread his cheeks, revealing the puckered flesh between then. Eyes still on Dean’s, he dipped down and flickered his tongue over the hole, dragging a guttural moan out of Dean.
“Christ, Sammy!” Dean cried out, arching his back and pressing his forehead against his arms. Sam could feel a shiver course through his body and flicked his tongue again, pressing gently against the tense muscle. He lapped at Dean’s ass, working circles with his tongue before darting inside, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. Dean bucked his hips and pushed back, trying to take as much of Sam’s tongue as he could.
Sam fucked Dean with his tongue, reveling in the gaspy moans and soft hisses tumbling out of Dean’s mouth. He reached over, one hand skimming across the mattress until he came up with the lube. He flipped it open and squirted some onto his hand, never taking his mouth off of Dean’s ass. Dean whimpered when he pulled back, and then tensed up when Sam brushed his finger over his hole.
Sam bit down on his lip; still clinging to the taste of Dean as he gently pushed the tip of his finger inside, slowly working it in to the first knuckle. Dean was so gorgeous in front of him, mouth open in silent praise, back arched and muscles rippling as he worked himself down on Sam’s finger. Sam licked his lips and slid another finger in, crooking them until he heard Dean shout, turning to send a wild look in Sam’s direction.
“God, Sam...ready, please,” Dean panted out, chewing on his lower lip as he locked eyes with Sam and pushed back against his fingers. “I believe you...gonna be great...just fucking do it.” The muscles in his neck were strained, flexing in such a delicious way that Sam withdrew his fingers and crawled up his brother’s body, licking a wide swipe up the corded muscles. He rolled his hips, letting his leaking cock slip between Dean’s cheeks, hinting at what was to come.
“You sure?” he asked, nibbling on Dean’s neck, teeth sinking into the spot he knew would make Dean tremble, grinning when the body beneath him shook, proving him right. He had to let Dean know though, had to give him one last out before he made this real, made it as much of a promise for forever that he could manage. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Dean was waiting for him to take one good look around and bolt for it. But then again, he wasn’t stupid, was smart enough to know this was where he belonged, and his chest ached so much whenever he though of Dean that it pushed any memories of Jess into the back of his mind. So he bit down hard, teeth nearly breaking the soft skin of Dean’s neck, as he rocked his hips against Dean’s ass.
“Yeah,” Dean answered, nodding as the word came out, as broken and shaky as Dean was. Sam smiled against his neck, pressed a quick kiss on his hairline before kneeling back and grabbing the lube. He squirted some into his palm and quickly coated himself, squeezing tightly on the base of his cock as he mentally prepared himself.
Dean pushed himself up on all fours, back arched and neck bent down as he moaned against the pillows. Sam slid behind him, running his hands over Dean’s hips as he lined up, just resting the head of his cock against Dean’s hole, letting him get used to the idea. When Dean nodded, Sam pressed in, slowly entering his brother. “Bear down,” he grunted, biting down on his tongue in an effort to keep his wits about him.
Then Dean shifted and rolled his hips, and Sam was sinking into the hottest, tightest perfection he’d ever known. He clutched at Dean’s hips, holding as still as he could while he gave Dean time to adjust. “Fuck...Sammy,” Dean mumbled, his mouth pressed against his right forearm and the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he got used to the sensation of being filled.
He nodded again, and Sam muttered a breathy prayer as he pulled his hips back and slowly rocked back in. He started slow, a gentle rhythm as Dean opened up for him. Then Dean was growling at him, nonsense words and broken syllables that Sam took as more and please. Angling his hips, he found the spot inside Dean’s body that made him hiss and buck back against Sam. God, he looked gorgeous like that, so wide and open and fragile.
Sam hit that spot again, knowing he wasn’t going to last long. From the gaspy moans coming out of Dean, he didn’t think he’d last long either. Sam dug his hands into Dean’s hips, holding him still as he pounded into him. Bending forward, he licked at the sweat gathering between Dean’s shoulder blades, tasting salt and sex and Dean burst across his tongue.
He shifted again and worked a hand around their bodies, wrapped his long fingers around Dean’s cock. Dean was throbbing in his hand, pre-come slicking the way as he Sam pumped him in time with his movements. Dean was trembling under him, thighs shaking as he leaned down, mouth open and lips swollen from where he’d been biting them. Sam flicked his wrist, rubbing a thumb over the head of Dean’s cock, silently willing him to just come already. He was a few seconds away from crazy, slipping into delirious with every quick thrust.
Dean’s body tensed, his back arching as he bucked back against Sam, exploding in his hand. Sam pumped him, milking him dry as he pounded into his tight ass. Dean cried out his name, a strangled sound that echoed throughout the room, ringing in Sam’s ears. He sunk his teeth into Dean’s shoulder, tasting blood as he let himself fall over the edge.
He came like a fucking volcano, emptying himself into Dean’s tight heat. White lights burst behind his eyelids, shocks shooting through his limbs as he collapsed, pinning a trembling Dean to the mattress.
When he came to, it was like crawling out of the darkness, relearning how to move as his muscles twitched and he became aware of the still body beneath him. He rolled over; turning Dean so that he could kiss him, swipe his tongue into his mouth as he smoothed his hands over Dean’s sweat covered body. “God,” he said, his voice raw and shaky as he broke the kiss, smiling at Dean.
Dean’s eyes were dark but gleaming, an unfamiliar wetness in them as he met Sam’s gaze. “Yeah,” he said with a nod, reaching out and tugging Sam closer to him. His body was like a furnace, throwing off a comforting heat as Sam clung to him, wrapped his long legs around him and just let himself be held.
“We’re ok,” he mumbled against Dean’s neck, nuzzling up against the slick skin.
“For now,” Dean said with a laugh, his breath coming in quick puffs against Sam’s cheek.
“Forever,” Sam told him firmly. He knew Dean would know that voice, recognize it was the “I’m going to Stanford” voice, the one you didn’t fuck with. He felt Dean nod and Sam cradled his face in his hands, cupping his ears as he crushed their mouths together. One of their lips must have cracked open, because he tasted the coppery trace of blood, but it just grounded him, made the moment more real. He pulled back and smirked at Dean, lips curling up as he met Dean’s questioning gaze. “I just popped your cherry,” he said, falling into a fit of giggles.
“Christ, Sammy.” Dean laughed and smacked him before pulling him close again, and Sam figured they were fine, even if he hadn’t convinced Dean of that yet. He didn’t know where Dad was, or what kind of evil they’d come across next week, but he had Dean - really had him - and that was enough. That was everything.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,263
Summary: Sam shows Dean what he's been missing out on.
Notes: This is set in my Everything 'Verse, so you might want to read those fics first. A huge thank you to neroli66 for the amazing beta job.
Sam didn’t want to push things, but he was on the verge of flipping out. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the familiar way Dean and he had slipped into their old routine, but he needed more. When he left for Stanford, he’d been stupid and young and running away from the best thing he’d ever known. He’d also been more of a virgin than he was now. Not a complete virgin, because Dean had taken care of that long ago, but damn if he didn’t miss getting fucked.
Just the thought of it took him back to his freshman year at Stanford. He could almost feel Jeremy’s hands on him again, settling him back against the pillows and telling him that everything would be fine. Sam hadn’t believed him then, but it didn’t take away from the experience. They always fucked in Jeremy’s frat house, discreetly leaving whatever party was going on downstairs and writhing against each other on Jeremy’s bed. It hadn’t lasted long, but the image of the blue and white Greek letters that were hung above Jeremy’s bed still got him worked up. Jeremy hadn’t been Dean, but he’d fucked Sam, which seemed to be the one thing Dean wouldn’t do.
He sighed and slumped back against the headboard, not even caring when his head smacked the wood. Looking down at his hands, he thought about how to reasonably ask what he was planning on asking. Dean didn’t seem to be getting the hint, no matter how many times Sam pushed his ass against him, practically begging Dean to spread him apart and slide his cock deep within him. Sam shivered, just picturing how Dean would look above him, or below him while Sam slowly rode him, hands pressed against the hard muscles of his chest.
Then the door burst open, and Dean walked in with a bag of groceries. Sam watched as he dropped the bag and then turned to give Sam a quizzical expression. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking around the room. He shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it over the back of one of the rickety chairs as he eyed Sam with concern.
“Why don’t we fuck?” Sam asked, his heart stopping as soon as the question left his mouth. God, he was so fucking stupid sometimes. Wasn’t he going to try and do this tactfully? He bit down on his lower lip to keep from laughing at the way Dean’s eyes bugged out or the chocked noises spilling out of his brother’s throat.
“We, um...we do stuff,” Dean told him, gesturing with his hand, and Sam could tell he’d be blushing, even if he couldn’t see it in the dim lighting of the motel room de jour.
“We could do more,” Sam said, sitting up. He squared his shoulders and made sure to meet Dean’s eyes before he continued. “I want you to fuck me.” He waited, breath caught in his chest as he watched Dean. Dean’s lips parted, and about a thousand emotions ran across his face. Sam could only pick out shock and confusion. Then there was a huge burst of anger and Dean shook his head.
“No,” he barked out, rushing to the door and storming out of the room.
Sam stared at the door, watching as it slammed shut, and shut his eyes. That went well he thought as his insides turned to dust.
--
Dean stared at the door, not really sure where he was going to go. The night air was cool, and he’d left his jacket in the room; the room that he certainly wasn’t going back into anytime soon. With a shrug, he turned and headed towards his car. He tried to blame the chill in his bones on the weather, but his mind kept coming back to an image of Sam sitting alone in the motel room, probably holding his head in his hands and managing to look so tiny in a way Dean never would have thought possible.
God, he wanted them to fuck? Dean jerked open the driver’s side door and slammed it closed behind him. He pounded his fists on the steering wheel a couple of times before hanging his head and closing his eyes. So yeah, Sam wanted them to take this whole fucked up existence to a new level. Wasn’t it enough that they did anything, let alone felt the way they did? Well, he couldn’t speak for Sam, but a part of him had been carved out, handed to Sam years ago. And now Sam wanted to change that, make it mean so much more, make them unable to deny the things they did.
And because it was Sam, and Dean was Dean, he was going to give in. It’s what he did, what he always did. Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to clear his mind, tried to pretend that his entire life hadn’t just been knocked on its ass. Why couldn’t Sam just leave things how they were?
Hand jobs and blow jobs were one thing, but...penetration? That was a whole new kind of scary. A kind Dean hadn’t had to face before. Sure, Sam wanted to be the one on the receiving end of things, but wasn’t it one more thing for Dean to protect him from? Because once that final step was taken, neither of them would ever be able to get out. They didn’t have a normal relationship, but Dean couldn’t handle losing the broken, fucked up and perfect thing they had. Once they took it a step further, there was no way he was letting Sam walk out on him again. Some lines couldn’t be uncrossed.
Until now, Dean had been able to convince himself he was just a rest stop, just a place holder for Sam. It wasn’t about making this last forever, Sam was just using him for comfort, and he was too damned willing to be used. If they took things further, would Sam be able to let Dean go? Because as much as he’d love to keep Sam by his side until his final day, Dean knew Sam wasn’t meant for him, knew he’d eventually have to let him go. Hell, they were brothers. Sam was destined for some small woman who would bear his children and cook him dinner. Dean couldn’t - wouldn’t - be those things.
Dean was so intent on his thoughts that the tap on the window made him jump. “Fuck!” he shouted as he snapped his head to the left and saw Sam smiling down at him. Against his better judgment, he threw open the door and turned to face his brother.
“I’m sorry I freaked you out,” Sam told him. He must have gotten dressed in a hurry, because he was shirtless and the button was undone on his jeans. Dean tried to look him in the eye, but he couldn’t help taking one long look up and down Sam’s body.
“It’s fine,” Dean said. He absentmindedly chewed on his thumbnail, giving himself an excuse to avoid Sam’s frowning glare.
“Dean, we’re so far from fine it’s not even an option.” He sighed and crouched down, balancing himself by placing his hands on Dean’s knees. His touch burned through the denim, and Dean knew he was going to give in, going to do whatever the hell Sam wanted, because that would keep him around that much longer. “I’ve done it before,” Sam admitted, his voice trailing off.
“What?” Dean asked. He put a hand on Sam’s chin and tugged his head up, searching his eyes for any signs of a lie. “Really? Were you...are you ok?”
“Yeah,” Sam said with a laugh. “Christ, Dean. It’s sex, not an execution. If you’re not comfortable with it, then forget I mentioned it, ok? Can we just go back inside?” And then Sam was giving him those trade mark puppy dog eyes and Dean’s willpower melted. He pushed Sam up, standing up with him. They leaned against the Impala, and Dean smiled before he pecked Sam quickly on the mouth.
“Let’s go fuck,” he said with a smirk. “Only you’re doing me. Not gonna let you do something I won’t do myself.”
“You don’t have to be such a martyr,” Sam said, hurrying to keep up with Dean. “It’s fun, you know. This whole thing called sex is actually pretty damn cool. You don’t have to do this, just fuck me, ok?”
“Shut up and get the...lube and stuff before I change my mind. You do have some, right?” Dean locked the door behind them and shrugged out of his shirt. He was naked before Sam could cross the room and dig into his duffle bag. Sam turned around and held up a bottle and a box of condoms, his face going wide with shock when he realized Dean was naked already.
“Way to take the romance out of it,” he said with a chuckle. He tossed the supplies at Dean, frowning when Dean looked down at them in shock.
“How long have you had this? It’s opened,” Dean told him, uncapping the lube and taking a precautionary sniff.
“Yeah, I’ve...used it. Had it since Lawrence.”
“Huh,” Dean recapped it, tossed it onto the bed, and motioned for Sam to get undressed.
--
Sam shoved his jeans over his hips, frowning at Dean’s back as his brother lay down on the bed and rested his head on his arms. His whole body was tense, and Sam could tell he was about to start shaking. Climbing onto the bed, Sam straddled Dean’s hips, running his strong hands over the smooth planes of Dean’s back, digging fingers into the knotted muscles of his shoulders.
When he bent down to nip lightly at Dean’s neck, scrapping his teeth over the tender flesh, he felt Dean tense up, shoulders flying up to his ears as he let out a harsh breath. “Dean?” he asked, nuzzling against the back of Dean’s neck. “What’s wrong?”
“Could you just do it?” Dean asked; his voice strained and quiet. Sam shook his head and tugged an earlobe into his mouth, gently biting down before releasing his hold.
“What do you think? That I’m just gonna stick it in and fuck you? Christ Dean…it’s good. I promise...let me make it good for you.” Sam sighed, rubbing his cheek against Dean’s and supporting his weight on his elbows. He waited until Dean gave a quick nod and tried to relax his body before he put more of his weight on his brother. Sam rolled his hips, his half hard cock brushing against the back of Dean’s thighs.
Then he pressed a soft kiss between Dean’s shoulder blades and licked and nipped his way down his back. He ran his hands over the small of Dean’s back, lightly tracing his thumbs over the dimples just above his ass. Dean let out a breath, and Sam took it as a sign, scooting further down the bed and settling himself between Dean’s spread thighs. He took a moment to enjoy the view, miles of golden, freckle scattered skin laid out before him. One day he was going to count those freckles, softly tongue each one until he had a concrete number, but he didn’t think Dean had the patience for it yet.
Sam got comfortable and lowered his face to Dean’s ass, gently biting first one cheek, then the other. Dean turned his head, looking over his shoulder to meet Sam’s gaze, his eyes full of questions. Sam smiled at him and slowly spread his cheeks, revealing the puckered flesh between then. Eyes still on Dean’s, he dipped down and flickered his tongue over the hole, dragging a guttural moan out of Dean.
“Christ, Sammy!” Dean cried out, arching his back and pressing his forehead against his arms. Sam could feel a shiver course through his body and flicked his tongue again, pressing gently against the tense muscle. He lapped at Dean’s ass, working circles with his tongue before darting inside, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. Dean bucked his hips and pushed back, trying to take as much of Sam’s tongue as he could.
Sam fucked Dean with his tongue, reveling in the gaspy moans and soft hisses tumbling out of Dean’s mouth. He reached over, one hand skimming across the mattress until he came up with the lube. He flipped it open and squirted some onto his hand, never taking his mouth off of Dean’s ass. Dean whimpered when he pulled back, and then tensed up when Sam brushed his finger over his hole.
Sam bit down on his lip; still clinging to the taste of Dean as he gently pushed the tip of his finger inside, slowly working it in to the first knuckle. Dean was so gorgeous in front of him, mouth open in silent praise, back arched and muscles rippling as he worked himself down on Sam’s finger. Sam licked his lips and slid another finger in, crooking them until he heard Dean shout, turning to send a wild look in Sam’s direction.
“God, Sam...ready, please,” Dean panted out, chewing on his lower lip as he locked eyes with Sam and pushed back against his fingers. “I believe you...gonna be great...just fucking do it.” The muscles in his neck were strained, flexing in such a delicious way that Sam withdrew his fingers and crawled up his brother’s body, licking a wide swipe up the corded muscles. He rolled his hips, letting his leaking cock slip between Dean’s cheeks, hinting at what was to come.
“You sure?” he asked, nibbling on Dean’s neck, teeth sinking into the spot he knew would make Dean tremble, grinning when the body beneath him shook, proving him right. He had to let Dean know though, had to give him one last out before he made this real, made it as much of a promise for forever that he could manage. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Dean was waiting for him to take one good look around and bolt for it. But then again, he wasn’t stupid, was smart enough to know this was where he belonged, and his chest ached so much whenever he though of Dean that it pushed any memories of Jess into the back of his mind. So he bit down hard, teeth nearly breaking the soft skin of Dean’s neck, as he rocked his hips against Dean’s ass.
“Yeah,” Dean answered, nodding as the word came out, as broken and shaky as Dean was. Sam smiled against his neck, pressed a quick kiss on his hairline before kneeling back and grabbing the lube. He squirted some into his palm and quickly coated himself, squeezing tightly on the base of his cock as he mentally prepared himself.
Dean pushed himself up on all fours, back arched and neck bent down as he moaned against the pillows. Sam slid behind him, running his hands over Dean’s hips as he lined up, just resting the head of his cock against Dean’s hole, letting him get used to the idea. When Dean nodded, Sam pressed in, slowly entering his brother. “Bear down,” he grunted, biting down on his tongue in an effort to keep his wits about him.
Then Dean shifted and rolled his hips, and Sam was sinking into the hottest, tightest perfection he’d ever known. He clutched at Dean’s hips, holding as still as he could while he gave Dean time to adjust. “Fuck...Sammy,” Dean mumbled, his mouth pressed against his right forearm and the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he got used to the sensation of being filled.
He nodded again, and Sam muttered a breathy prayer as he pulled his hips back and slowly rocked back in. He started slow, a gentle rhythm as Dean opened up for him. Then Dean was growling at him, nonsense words and broken syllables that Sam took as more and please. Angling his hips, he found the spot inside Dean’s body that made him hiss and buck back against Sam. God, he looked gorgeous like that, so wide and open and fragile.
Sam hit that spot again, knowing he wasn’t going to last long. From the gaspy moans coming out of Dean, he didn’t think he’d last long either. Sam dug his hands into Dean’s hips, holding him still as he pounded into him. Bending forward, he licked at the sweat gathering between Dean’s shoulder blades, tasting salt and sex and Dean burst across his tongue.
He shifted again and worked a hand around their bodies, wrapped his long fingers around Dean’s cock. Dean was throbbing in his hand, pre-come slicking the way as he Sam pumped him in time with his movements. Dean was trembling under him, thighs shaking as he leaned down, mouth open and lips swollen from where he’d been biting them. Sam flicked his wrist, rubbing a thumb over the head of Dean’s cock, silently willing him to just come already. He was a few seconds away from crazy, slipping into delirious with every quick thrust.
Dean’s body tensed, his back arching as he bucked back against Sam, exploding in his hand. Sam pumped him, milking him dry as he pounded into his tight ass. Dean cried out his name, a strangled sound that echoed throughout the room, ringing in Sam’s ears. He sunk his teeth into Dean’s shoulder, tasting blood as he let himself fall over the edge.
He came like a fucking volcano, emptying himself into Dean’s tight heat. White lights burst behind his eyelids, shocks shooting through his limbs as he collapsed, pinning a trembling Dean to the mattress.
When he came to, it was like crawling out of the darkness, relearning how to move as his muscles twitched and he became aware of the still body beneath him. He rolled over; turning Dean so that he could kiss him, swipe his tongue into his mouth as he smoothed his hands over Dean’s sweat covered body. “God,” he said, his voice raw and shaky as he broke the kiss, smiling at Dean.
Dean’s eyes were dark but gleaming, an unfamiliar wetness in them as he met Sam’s gaze. “Yeah,” he said with a nod, reaching out and tugging Sam closer to him. His body was like a furnace, throwing off a comforting heat as Sam clung to him, wrapped his long legs around him and just let himself be held.
“We’re ok,” he mumbled against Dean’s neck, nuzzling up against the slick skin.
“For now,” Dean said with a laugh, his breath coming in quick puffs against Sam’s cheek.
“Forever,” Sam told him firmly. He knew Dean would know that voice, recognize it was the “I’m going to Stanford” voice, the one you didn’t fuck with. He felt Dean nod and Sam cradled his face in his hands, cupping his ears as he crushed their mouths together. One of their lips must have cracked open, because he tasted the coppery trace of blood, but it just grounded him, made the moment more real. He pulled back and smirked at Dean, lips curling up as he met Dean’s questioning gaze. “I just popped your cherry,” he said, falling into a fit of giggles.
“Christ, Sammy.” Dean laughed and smacked him before pulling him close again, and Sam figured they were fine, even if he hadn’t convinced Dean of that yet. He didn’t know where Dad was, or what kind of evil they’d come across next week, but he had Dean - really had him - and that was enough. That was everything.