Cherry Pie, Supernatural, NC-17, Keeper!Verse
Fandom: Supernatural, Keeper!Verse
Title: Cherry Pie
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5217 (It was supposed to be a simple PWP...but it got away from me)
Summary: Following Trust, Sam spends some time grieving, and Dean gives him the space to do so. Christmas though brings a break, when Sam decides he's done grieving and wants something from Dean. And Dean has a surprise of his own for Sam.
A/Ns & Warnings: Vague references to Sticky Sweet, rough sex, angst (this is Keeper!verse Sam). Not sure I'm happy with this, it got all meandery and stuff.
Dean rounded the corner into the bathroom and stopped. Sam didn’t look up from his spot on the floor, his back against the wall. Dean’s eyes darted around the room, looking for signs that something was wrong, but there was just Sam, on the floor.
“Sam?”
Sam sniffed and his big hands rubbed over his face. “Yeah.”
“I was wondering where you’d gotten to.”
“Too much Christmas cheer.”
“You haven’t been all that cheerful.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Dean closed the bathroom door and came to sit next to Sam on the floor. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right to mourn his loss, Sam. You waited a long time to do it.”
Sam’s eyes closed. “I didn’t even know him, Dean. Never got the chance.”
Dean took his hand and held it for a minute. “So, you’re mourning the lost opportunity, the chance for what might have been.”
Sam sighed and shook his head. “You’re turning into a woman in your old age.”
Dean chuckled and bumped his shoulder into Sam’s. “Look who’s talking.”
They sat there quietly until Sam took a deep breath and turned to Dean. “I’m tired of this…ache in my gut…I’m tired of grieving the past and worrying about who I’ve hurt…I’m tired…but I think I know how to make it all feel better.”
There was a playful tone to his voice that made Dean raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Sam nodded and moved up onto his knees, his hands on Dean’s thighs. “Yes…and it involves getting you out of those jeans…and me on my knees…”
“Sam, we still have company. Dad and Dana are in the living room with Scott and Missouri.”
Sam leaned in and kissed him, hushing him with lips and tongue. “It involves you fucking me hard and fast right here on the bathroom floor…”
Dean had to admit his body was liking the suggestion, despite his protest. It wasn’t often Sam was willing to play the bottom, and Dean never pushed…but he loved when Sam did…and he loved when their physical relationship was…well, physical. Too many years had been lost to the injuries Sam had sustained over the course of his life, and getting some of his mobility back had infused their sex life with the vitality it had when they had first met.
Since Sam’s revelation about the son he’d lost, not just once, but twice, Dean had given him the space to grieve, and it had been over two weeks since they’d done more than talk about sex.
Sam had blanketed them, cutting off any stray intrusions from Dana or Missouri and was already reaching for Dean’s zipper.
“Sam. Seriously…now?”
His kiss was hard, teeth nipping at Dean’s lip. “Now.” Sam growled and it vibrated through Dean and into his cock. “Need you inside me.” Sam nipped his way down Dean’s jaw as his hand got his zipper open and pressed inside.
“Slow down.”
“Don’t wanna be slow…wanna fuck…now.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Dean.” Sam pressed Dean into the wall, his hands on either side of his face, his mouth possessive, needy. “I swear if you don’t get off your ass and into mine I’m going to scream.”
Sam lifted up, unzipping his jeans and pushing them down before Dean pulled him back to kiss deeply. His cock was hard and ready, even if he still had his doubts. “Think you can be quiet?” Dean asked, pushing Sam away so he could get up on his knees. “Not a sound…can you do that Sammy?”
“If it means you’ll stop talking and start fucking…yes.”
“Bossy little bottom, aren’t you?” Without warning, Dean stuck a finger inside Sam and Sam’s head dropped forward. Sam was tight and hot and already trembling. “Hard Sammy? You want it hard?”
Sam nodded in response, pushing back against Dean, his mind reaching out to rub him in other ways. “Not fair.” Dean murmured, working in a second finger. “There’s lube in the-“
No lube. Hard.
“Sam-“
“Please…Dean…I need to feel you.”
“You want it to hurt, you mean.” Dean stopped, fingers buried in Sam.
Sam understood instantly and looked back over his shoulder. Not like that…just….rough and real…
Dean pressed down on Sam’s prostate and grinned when he jumped. Gonna fuck you into the tile, Sammy. Sam grinned back and fell forward onto his hands. Dean worked in a third finger, opening Sam up. He pushed his free hand up under Sam’s shirt, up his back.
Now.
Dean could feel Sam’s desire, it washed over him in waves as Sam’s body wiggled. “I’m gonna come before I get near you, you keep that up.” Dean said, rising up on his knees to position himself.
Sam groaned silently, the vibration carrying through his body. Dean pulled his fingers out of him and positioned his cock at Sam’s ass. With no lube it was going to be tight and hot and he’d be lucky to build up a rhythm before he was coming. Sam shuddered as Dean’s cock pressed in. He hissed something that might have been “Yes” and Dean sent a silent reminder about being quiet.
Dean stopped half way in and pulled out again, then pushed in harder and deeper. He slid a hand into Sam’s hair, pulling his head back. “This what you wanted, Sammy?” He snapped his hips in and out and Sam’s head nodded in his hand.
More Dean…god…more.
Dean pulled Sam up and back, so that he was sitting on Dean’s thighs, his cock as deep inside as it would go. He kissed up Sam’s ruined shoulder and turned his head to kiss him messily. Show me. Dean sent, settling his hands on Sam’s hips to steady him. You want it? Show me.
“Fuck.” The word escaped Sam’s mouth before he could stop it. He flexed his thighs, lifting up before pushing back down. He moved faster, until he was practically bouncing, and Dean’s cock was burning.
“Stop.” Dean’s voice was ragged and breathy, but Sam stopped, his weight pressed against Dean, his ass filled and hot. Dean tilted his hips, pressing his cock against Sam’s prostate, making him moan. Do you feel it Sammy?
Sam’s head fell forward and he responded by squeezing his ass muscles around Dean. Dean slid his arms around Sam, grabbing his dick roughly and pulling on it. Like this?
Sam came quickly, spilling hot over Dean’s hand. Dean pushed them forward, snapping his hips once, twice…then he was coming too, filling Sam with come before pulling out and sitting back on the floor, panting.
Sam was grinning when he turned around, trying to pull his pants up. “Just like that.”
Dean rolled his eyes and got up off the floor. “You should clean up before you come downstairs. You smell like we just had sex.”
Sam grinned even wider. “So do you.” His hands reached out and snagged Dean’s hips, pulling him closer. He opened his mouth and took Dean’s softening cock into his mouth, rolling it around and licking it from tip to base. Dean groaned and shook his head as Sam released him with a pop. “There, all better.”
“Dude, don’t think I’m doing the same for you.” Dean said as he turned on the tap at the sink and washed Sam’s come from his hands. He wet a wash cloth and handed it to Sam with a raised eyebrow.
Sam cleaned himself up and let Dean help him up off the floor. He relinquished the blanket of protection that kept Dana from prying and grinned when it was obvious she’d noticed. “Our absence has been noted.” Sam said, kissing Dean quickly.
Dean rolled his eyes and opened the bathroom door. “I told you.”
“You just said we still had company.” Sam countered, leading the way out through their bedroom, stopping at the door when he realized Dean wasn’t directly behind him.
“Go on down, I came up to get something.”
Sam shrugged and headed down the stairs. The living room seemed crowded with the biggest damn Christmas tree the local lot could sell them, and more decorations than was necessary, not to mention the people. Dana poked at him mentally and looked at Scott, who was hiding a laugh behind his hand. Missouri and John pointedly looked elsewhere.
“So…who’s ready for cocoa?” Sam asked as he hit the bottom of the stairs. It was a Christmas eve tradition in the Winchester home. Early dinner, then cocoa and the exchange of gifts with Missouri and John and this year, Scott.
“I’ll help, Sam.” Dana said, standing and following him into the kitchen. “I can’t believe you.” She said once they were out of earshot. “Scott already thinks you too are horndogs.”
She slapped his arm, then slapped him again. “I swear you live to embarrass me.”
“Dana, I do not live to embarrass you. That’s just one of the perks.” Sam smiled and she rolled her eyes.
“If I didn’t love you so much…and if seeing you smile again didn’t make me so happy…I’d punch you.”
Sam kissed her cheek. “Get the cups down, I’ll get the water started.”
Sam felt Dean as he joined Missouri and John. He was warm and happy and…hiding something. Sam peeked out, squinting in his direction, until Dana pulled him back. “It’s Christmas, stop poking around.”
“I wasn’t poking around.” Sam replied defensively. “Not yet, anyway.”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
Sam scowled at her. “We always open gifts on Christmas. Tonight is supposed to be for everyone else.”
“Things change. Cocoa’s done. Can you manage the tray?”
“Yes, go on and make sure the table’s clear.”
The point of traditions was that they didn’t change. Christmas was one of the first traditions they had established as a family…from that first one, when Dana was just a year old, floating ornaments onto the tree in an effort to help her Daddy decorate. To this day she chose to decorate using her powers.
Sam picked up the tray and headed into the living room. Dean was up almost immediately to help, taking the tray from Sam as he rounded the couch. Dana was already sitting on the floor by the tree. With Scott there, she’d be handing out presents in a more traditional manner than she usually did. She smiled up at him and reached for her cocoa.
Once everyone was comfortable, Dana started handing out presents. Sam settled back on the floor, leaning against Dean’s chair, content to watch. Christmas had never been a big thing for him growing up, but he’d learned to enjoy watching his family open gifts that he and Dean took great care in picking out. Missouri smiled as she opened her gift from Dana. Sam didn’t understand the significance, but apparently she did. She blew a kiss at Dana, who beamed.
John was next, a gift from Sam and Dean together, even though he’d be there in the morning too. He grinned as he peered into the box. It was a cheesy gift, but Dean had insisted because he and Sam hadn’t ever done the cheesy sons’ gift. A silver flask engraved with DAD across the front.
“Sam wouldn’t let me fill it with Jack.” Dean said, kissing the top of Sam’s head.”
“It’s been under the tree for two weeks…would you want to drink that?”
Dana hushed them both and handed an envelope to Scott with a wink. “That’s from all of us, Scott…even Papa.”
Scott glanced at John nervously, then opened the envelope. “I wanted to just put the carburetor in a box and wrap it…but Dana said it wasn’t classy.” Dean said, as Scott’s eyes bulged. “Bring the Camero by the shop next week and we’ll put it in, and tune the whole thing up for you. I should have the back seat in by then too.”
“Wow, I don’t know what to say.”
“No need, we know you love that car.” Sam replied.
“Your turn.” Dana said, handing Sam an envelope as well.
Dean’s hands fell on his shoulders. “It’s from all of us too.” Because we’re so proud of you.
Sam’s hand was trembling as he opened it, unsure what to expect. He wasn’t really good at the getting gifts thing. It made him uncomfortable…even more so with everyone looking at him.
He pulled tickets out of the envelope. Airline tickets. “What’s this?” Two first class tickets for first thing in the morning to Vegas.
“Just a little get away. You and me and a penthouse suite at the Mandalay Bay.” Dean said, squeezing his shoulders.
“Dean-“
“It wasn’t his idea.” John said, looking at him with a face that said he wouldn’t hear any arguments. “It was mine. You’re going.”
“Thank you.” Sam said a little meekly. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Thank you is the perfect thing.” Dana said, rising up on her knees to kiss his cheek.
The rest of the gift exchange went by in a bit of a blur, as Sam stared at the tickets and realized they’d been hiding this for more than a month. In the envelope behind the plane tickets were tickets to a show, the room reservation, and spending money.
He and Dean had never really done anything like this. Weekends away and family vacations that included Dana and John generally…and never really went well…or were just hunting opportunities in disguise…but a week’s vacation, alone…together…In sixteen years, that hadn’t happened.
He felt Dean brushing against him, checking in…making sure he was okay. He’d been doing that a lot since they’d ganged up on him and made him realize his self-destructive guilt was going to get him killed.
Sam brushed back, a sort of mental kiss, and closed his eyes, letting Dean’s warmth and presence flow over him.
“My, my…would you look at that? You boys gonna need your sleep if you’re gonna catch that plane.” Missouri was standing, her eyebrow raised as Sam looked up at her. “Come on Scott, its time the non-Winchester people were on their way home.”
Scott looked startled, but smiled when Dana kissed him. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Merry Christmas, Missouri…you too Scott.” Dean said, though he sounded tired and made no move to get up from the chair.
John stood too, stretching. “I’ll get my bag from the truck. You boys really should head to bed. It’s already 9 and we’ve gotta leave the house by 6am.”
“We’re going.” Dean said, pushing on Sam’s back. “Come on, Sammy. It’s you’re turn to tuck me in.”
The penthouse suite was enormous, and reminded Sam of his younger years, when he could have almost anything he wanted. The floor to ceiling windows looked out over the lights of the strip. The bed was a king, the bathtub big enough for him and Dean to fit in together, without feeling crowded.
It was more luxury than he’d seen since he’d left Boston with Dean.
The front desk clerk had looked at them strangely when they checked in for a week’s stay with only one small duffle bag a piece, and Dean had shocked Sam when he joked with the clerk that they didn’t intend to leave the room much.
There was a thunk as Dean tossed both bags on the bed. Sam crossed to the windows, hands in his pockets. He was still unsure of how to approach this whole thing emotionally. It was an extravagant gift, one he would never have expected from the generally practical and frugal Winchester clan.
Dean came up behind him, sliding his hands through Sam’s arms and into Sam’s pockets, tugging him back against him. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
Sam shook his head lightly. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Dean pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “We did it…You’ve come so far in the last 4 months, Sam…and we wanted you to know how proud we are.”
“I thought it was because you wanted to have a week of loud, obnoxious sex.” Sam said, pushing his ass against Dean.
“Yeah, well, there’s that too.”
It was still early, barely 1:30 in the afternoon. Sam turned in Dean’s arms, kissing his forehead. “Thank you.”
Dean smiled wickedly. “Don’t thank me yet. Christmas isn’t over.”
“Oh?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You mean there’s more?”
“First, there’s nap time.” Dean kissed him lightly. “Then we’ll be having a nice dinner here in the suite.” He kissed him again. “Then I plan on stripping you naked and licking you from head to toe.” He turned them and started walking them toward the bedroom. “Then I thought I’d give you my present…and play with it.”
“And when do I give you your present?”
Dean stopped and looked up at him. “That depends on what your present is.”
Sam shook his head. “Not telling.”
“In that case, how about after I pin you to the wall and-“
Sam grabbed him and pulled him closer, kissing him hard and turning them so that Dean’s back was to the bed. “You said something about a nap?” He pushed and Dean fell to the bed.
“I meant to sleep.”
“Yeah…I know…” Sam pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. “Can’t sleep in those boots.” He pushed Dean down further and pulled off his boots. “Probably easier to get comfortable without the jeans. Dean stopped fighting as Sam reached for his zipper and pulled his jeans, even lifted his ass so Sam could get them off.
“I could just get up and strip.” Dean offered, but Sam shook his head.
Sam knocked their duffle bags off the bed and proceeded to pull his own jeans down, kicking off his shoes as the jeans reached the floor and leaving the whole mess on the floor. He stopped and cocked his head at his brother. “You would strip for me?”
Dean blushed red and scooted up the bed to sit with his back against the headboard. “I’d take my clothes off, if that’s what you mean.”
Sam shook his head and crawled up the bed toward him. “Not what I meant.”
Dean grinned as Sam leaned over him, hovering just out of reach without moving. “I don’t dance, Sammy.”
“Sure you do…when no one’s looking.” Sam whispered, moving just enough to brush his lips over Dean’s. “You think I don’t know…but I’ve heard you singing…I’ve seen you dance…”
Dean cleared his throat. “Spying on me?”
Sam shook his head, making his nose move over Dean’s. Seen it in here.
“Oh, so just invading my mind?”
Sam flushed Dean’s mind with images of Dean at various stages of his life, ending with one of him in tight jeans and a t-shirt, lip syncing to “Cherry Pie” and dancing barefoot while he slowly undressed. “I replay that sometimes when you’re late coming home.” Sam whispered. “Then…when you come in…I can’t wait to pounce on you and fuck you and make you beg.”
He pushed Dean’s head back against the headboard as he kissed him, slanting his mouth over Dean’s open lips, sliding his tongue in to taste the watermelon Jolly Rancher he chewed on descent to pop his ears.
“What is it with you and cherries?” Dean asked breathlessly when Sam pulled back.
Sam shoved the image back at him, his ass in the mirror as he bent over to peel the jeans down his legs…that right there.
“What’s that got to do with cherries?” Dean asked, then blushed bright red again…”Give me a break, I was 17…and I wasn’t a virgin.”
“But that ass was.” Sam countered, kissing him again, one hand sliding between his legs to fondle him. “Besides, as I recall…it was you who started the whole cherry thing.” Just as Dean’s cock started to respond, Sam stopped and flopped to the bed beside him, punching his pillow into submission.
“Hey!”
Sam lifted his head and almost managed to suppress the grin. “What?”
“You just gonna tease me and leave me hanging?”
“You’re the one who wanted us to nap.”
Dean gaped at him, opening and closing his mouth. “But…you started…”
This time Sam did grin, and it was evil. “You strip for me, and I’ll finish the job.”
“That’s not fair.”
Sam mock-yawned and stretched, settling in and closing his eyes. After a few minutes he felt Dean move so he was on his back. “You cheat.” Dean muttered before rolling onto his side, his back to Sam.
“Yeah…but I win.” Sam murmured.
The nap time idea turned out to be a good one, and Sam woke feeling refreshed and better than he had since he’d revealed his worst secrets to Dean and their father. Dean wasn’t in the bed, nor in the suite, but he left a note on the table saying he’d gone to get a few things.
Sam decided to take a soak in the mammoth tub, poking a mental finger at the little blob of healing power to send ripples of warmth and strength through him. Whatever Dean had in mind, it was likely to be a long night…and Sam wanted to be as ready as he could be.
He heard the suite door open and close, bags rustling. Then felt Dean reach out. “In the bathroom.”
“Oh, you read my mind.” Dean said with a smirk as he came into the room and found Sam reclining in the tub.
“Where’d you go?”
“Downstairs. I forgot my toothbrush.”
Sam rolled his eyes and looked up at him. “Yeah, whatever.”
Dean started pulling his clothes off. “Budge over, I want in.”
Sam moved and Dean slid in groaning as his body sank into the heated water. “So really, where’d you go?” Sam asked as Dean settled in against the back of the tub and reached for him.
“I told you. I needed a toothbrush…and stuff.”
“Dude, it’s Christmas, what could possibly be open?”
“Dude, it’s Vegas.” Dean countered, pressing his lips over Sam’s right shoulder. He followed the thickest scar to the deep pocket. “Don’t worry about it. Let me surprise you.”
“Seriously Dean, this whole thing you’ve got going on? It’s not that I don’t appreciate it…but it’s starting to make me uncomfortable.”
“What thing?” Dean asked, kissing down another scar.
“You spoiling me…it’s…sweet…but-“
Dean’s finger pressed against his lips. “No buts. This is part of your therapy.”
“Therapy?”
Dean nodded with his cheek pressed to Sam’s shoulder. “And as your therapist, I say when you’ve had enough.”
“Dean, I’m serious.”
“So am I. Sammy. Look.” He sighed and Sam turned to see him. “Let me have tonight, okay? Just…relax and let me give you this…tomorrow we’ll…do it however you want.”
Sam looked at him, at the fire sparkling in his eyes…at the sincerity in every line of his face. He wrapped himself mentally around Dean and bowed his head. “What do you want me to do?”
Dean smiled, and Sam blushed. That was the smile that got Dean almost anything he wanted, from just about anybody. He pulled Sam back up against him. “Trust me…and let me take care of you…of everything.” He kissed the back of Sam’s head. “Can you do that?”
Truth be told, it made Sam very nervous…but yes, he could do that. He knew Dean only wanted to make it special. “I’m all yours, Dean.” Sam consciously let go, let himself float a little in the water, Dean’s hand the only anchor he had. It was a gesture he knew Dean wouldn’t miss.
“I’ve got you, baby…just relax.”
Dean washed him then, gently and carefully…the washcloth dipped in the water and swirled over skin. When Dean finally nudged him to get him moving, Sam was relaxed and drifting. Dean pulled the plug and climbed out first, reaching out a hand to steady Sam with one hand.
Sam’s skin was pink from the heat as Dean wrapped him in a large white towel and patted him on the rump to get him moving. “There’s a robe on the bed.”
Twenty minutes later, both of them were wrapped in warm, fluffy robes and room service was delivering their meal. It was dark outside the giant windows, the colorful display of the lights of the strip painting the backdrop of night with bright splashes, like some abstract art.
“You going to feed me too?” Sam asked as Dean filled his plate.
Dean grinned. “If you need me to.”
There was a decided theme to the meal Sam noticed as he picked up his fork. Pork loin with a cherry-currant sauce. A rice dish with nuts and cherries. Cherry tomatoes. He raised an eyebrow. Dean just chuckled.
“What? No Cherry Pie?” Sam asked.
“Dessert. Comes after dinner.” Dean said, poking his fork toward Sam. “Eat.”
Sam wasn’t particularly hungry, but Dean had been extra vigilante over his eating habits lately, so he made a show of eating, finishing more than half what Dean put on his plate.
Sam started to clean up, but Dean caught his hand. “Leave it.” He kissed Sam’s fingers. “I’ll be right back.” Sam watched him leave the room, then went to the window to look out at the lights.
When the music started, he turned, but Dean was right behind him, pressing his hands to the glass. “Move your hands and I stop.” Dean said. “Watch the reflection.”
Sam’s eyes tried to follow him but he moved away as “Cherry Pie” played from somewhere. Sam dragged his eyes back to the reflection, watching as Dean danced a little, sliding off his bathrobe to reveal tight black leather pants…and little else. He might have been singing along, but Sam was caught by the way his hips moved…the way the leather stretched over his ass when he bent over.
He couldn’t move, so he reached for Dean with his mind instead, expressing his joy as Dean danced toward him, reaching around him and opening his robe. His hands moved down, between his legs, and Sam was hard fast. “So easy.” Dean whispered before he danced away.
Sam watched over his shoulder again until it hurt, then turned his eyes back to the window. He groaned when Dean bent over, running a hand over his ass. Dean moved back, slowly, over the floor to Sam’s side, peeling his right hand from the window, and pulling the sleeve of the robe off.
Dean sucked the webbing between his thumb and forefinger until Sam’s eyes rolled closed and then he licked over the palm, before pressing it back against the window and repeating the whole process with his left hand, leaving Sam standing naked in front of the huge window overlooking the strip.
He could feel leather against his skin as Dean pressed in close. “I like having you here, like this.” Dean whispered. “On display…the whole world could see you if they knew where to look…they’d see you and know that you belonged to me.”
Dean kissed over his shoulders, his hands smoothing down Sam’s back, to his ass and around his hips. Sam shuddered against him, moving his ass over Dean’s leather covered cock. Dean.
“Easy…easy baby…my way…” Dean dragged his hand down Sam’s cock, burying his face between Sam’s shoulder blades, kissing, licking, biting. “Want you Sammy…want you so bad it hurts sometimes…” He flicked his thumb over the tip of Sam’s dick and Sam lurched forward, his head hitting the glass. “Want to fuck you right here where the whole world can see Sammy…”
There was the sound of a zipper, the Dean’s feet were pushing Sam’s legs further apart, his hands pushing, pulling until Sam was where he wanted him…a slight hesitation then a cold slick finger pressed inside him. Sam groaned…More…
Dean pulled the finger out and pressed in with his slicked up cock. Sam could see in the reflection, the concentration on his face…could feel the leather still encasing him, all but that cock as it moved into Sam…slow and steady…stretching and pulling. Once in, Dean’s hands closed on Sam’s hips, holding him in place as he fucked up and in…Sam started to move a hand to his own cock, but Dean stopped him.
Hands on the window.
Sam couldn’t make actual words form, just sent his need and lust into Dean…who responded with snapping his hips faster and harder. “Love you…need you Sammy…never letting you go.”
Sam bent his head against the window. Dean’s hand rose up to his left shoulder, pulling him down into his thrust up. Sam stiffened a little, pushed the memory away. To his surprise, Dean brought it back up, held it between them for a moment, his movement stopped. Not me
Sam shook his head. I know.
Dean retightened his hold on Sam’s shoulder. This is me.
Sam responded by pushing back onto him. Want this.
Dean shifted his stance and shoved in hard. Sam’s knees buckled and they went down together, Dean’s hand pressing Sam forward even as he intensified his forward movement. The new angle hit Sam’s sweet spot and Sam shivered as his cock throbbed, begging to be touched.
Sam’s eyes closed, his hands in fists against the glass. Then he felt Dean…surrounding his cock with heat, with…Sam gasped as Dean mentally masturbated him. “Fuck…Dean…” Sam came quickly, painting the glass and floor with sticky streams of come.
Dean followed him quickly…coming hot inside him and pulling him close. “Merry Christmas Sammy.”
They pulled apart and stood, and Sam caught Dean to pull him in for a deep kiss. “Does that mean it’s my turn?” Sam’s hand closed over Dean’s sticky cock and Dean hissed.
“Need a little time to recover,” he murmured
“Plenty of time.” Sam whispered, walking them back toward the table. “I thought we’d have dessert.” Sam pushed Dean into the chair and opened the container hiding two slices of pie. He straddled his brother’s lamp, lifting one piece in his hand. Cherries dripped off the sides onto his hands, but he ignored them as he lifted the pie to Dean’s mouth.
Dean took a bite, his eyes locked on Sam’s. Sam pulled the pie away and leaned down, his mouth slanting over Dean’s, his tongue swirling through the pie until Dean groaned and swallowed. After several bites, Sam set the pie aside, his cherry coated hands smoothing over Dean’s chest, joining the bits of filling that fell while they ate.
“Mmm…we seem to be a mess.” Sam said, a twinkle in his eye.
“We?” Dean responded raising an eyebrow.
“I should clean it up.” He started to get up, and Dean pulled him back down.
“With your tongue.”
It was Sam’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just tie you down and dump the rest of it onto you and eat you clean.” He felt Dean’s dick jump between them and laughed. “So much for recovery.”
He kissed him then, mouth filled with cherry and sweetness, and when he pulled back, he met Dean’s eyes. “Thank you.”
Dean didn’t have to ask, his mind brushed against Sam’s, affection warm and sticky like the pie filling Sam’s mind. He may have never had the opportunity to raise his son, to know him and make him family…but he had Dean and Dana, and even John…and they loved him. And Sam would never fully understand why…but he was starting to believe that maybe he didn’t have to.
Title: Cherry Pie
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5217 (It was supposed to be a simple PWP...but it got away from me)
Summary: Following Trust, Sam spends some time grieving, and Dean gives him the space to do so. Christmas though brings a break, when Sam decides he's done grieving and wants something from Dean. And Dean has a surprise of his own for Sam.
A/Ns & Warnings: Vague references to Sticky Sweet, rough sex, angst (this is Keeper!verse Sam). Not sure I'm happy with this, it got all meandery and stuff.
Dean rounded the corner into the bathroom and stopped. Sam didn’t look up from his spot on the floor, his back against the wall. Dean’s eyes darted around the room, looking for signs that something was wrong, but there was just Sam, on the floor.
“Sam?”
Sam sniffed and his big hands rubbed over his face. “Yeah.”
“I was wondering where you’d gotten to.”
“Too much Christmas cheer.”
“You haven’t been all that cheerful.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Dean closed the bathroom door and came to sit next to Sam on the floor. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right to mourn his loss, Sam. You waited a long time to do it.”
Sam’s eyes closed. “I didn’t even know him, Dean. Never got the chance.”
Dean took his hand and held it for a minute. “So, you’re mourning the lost opportunity, the chance for what might have been.”
Sam sighed and shook his head. “You’re turning into a woman in your old age.”
Dean chuckled and bumped his shoulder into Sam’s. “Look who’s talking.”
They sat there quietly until Sam took a deep breath and turned to Dean. “I’m tired of this…ache in my gut…I’m tired of grieving the past and worrying about who I’ve hurt…I’m tired…but I think I know how to make it all feel better.”
There was a playful tone to his voice that made Dean raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Sam nodded and moved up onto his knees, his hands on Dean’s thighs. “Yes…and it involves getting you out of those jeans…and me on my knees…”
“Sam, we still have company. Dad and Dana are in the living room with Scott and Missouri.”
Sam leaned in and kissed him, hushing him with lips and tongue. “It involves you fucking me hard and fast right here on the bathroom floor…”
Dean had to admit his body was liking the suggestion, despite his protest. It wasn’t often Sam was willing to play the bottom, and Dean never pushed…but he loved when Sam did…and he loved when their physical relationship was…well, physical. Too many years had been lost to the injuries Sam had sustained over the course of his life, and getting some of his mobility back had infused their sex life with the vitality it had when they had first met.
Since Sam’s revelation about the son he’d lost, not just once, but twice, Dean had given him the space to grieve, and it had been over two weeks since they’d done more than talk about sex.
Sam had blanketed them, cutting off any stray intrusions from Dana or Missouri and was already reaching for Dean’s zipper.
“Sam. Seriously…now?”
His kiss was hard, teeth nipping at Dean’s lip. “Now.” Sam growled and it vibrated through Dean and into his cock. “Need you inside me.” Sam nipped his way down Dean’s jaw as his hand got his zipper open and pressed inside.
“Slow down.”
“Don’t wanna be slow…wanna fuck…now.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Dean.” Sam pressed Dean into the wall, his hands on either side of his face, his mouth possessive, needy. “I swear if you don’t get off your ass and into mine I’m going to scream.”
Sam lifted up, unzipping his jeans and pushing them down before Dean pulled him back to kiss deeply. His cock was hard and ready, even if he still had his doubts. “Think you can be quiet?” Dean asked, pushing Sam away so he could get up on his knees. “Not a sound…can you do that Sammy?”
“If it means you’ll stop talking and start fucking…yes.”
“Bossy little bottom, aren’t you?” Without warning, Dean stuck a finger inside Sam and Sam’s head dropped forward. Sam was tight and hot and already trembling. “Hard Sammy? You want it hard?”
Sam nodded in response, pushing back against Dean, his mind reaching out to rub him in other ways. “Not fair.” Dean murmured, working in a second finger. “There’s lube in the-“
No lube. Hard.
“Sam-“
“Please…Dean…I need to feel you.”
“You want it to hurt, you mean.” Dean stopped, fingers buried in Sam.
Sam understood instantly and looked back over his shoulder. Not like that…just….rough and real…
Dean pressed down on Sam’s prostate and grinned when he jumped. Gonna fuck you into the tile, Sammy. Sam grinned back and fell forward onto his hands. Dean worked in a third finger, opening Sam up. He pushed his free hand up under Sam’s shirt, up his back.
Now.
Dean could feel Sam’s desire, it washed over him in waves as Sam’s body wiggled. “I’m gonna come before I get near you, you keep that up.” Dean said, rising up on his knees to position himself.
Sam groaned silently, the vibration carrying through his body. Dean pulled his fingers out of him and positioned his cock at Sam’s ass. With no lube it was going to be tight and hot and he’d be lucky to build up a rhythm before he was coming. Sam shuddered as Dean’s cock pressed in. He hissed something that might have been “Yes” and Dean sent a silent reminder about being quiet.
Dean stopped half way in and pulled out again, then pushed in harder and deeper. He slid a hand into Sam’s hair, pulling his head back. “This what you wanted, Sammy?” He snapped his hips in and out and Sam’s head nodded in his hand.
More Dean…god…more.
Dean pulled Sam up and back, so that he was sitting on Dean’s thighs, his cock as deep inside as it would go. He kissed up Sam’s ruined shoulder and turned his head to kiss him messily. Show me. Dean sent, settling his hands on Sam’s hips to steady him. You want it? Show me.
“Fuck.” The word escaped Sam’s mouth before he could stop it. He flexed his thighs, lifting up before pushing back down. He moved faster, until he was practically bouncing, and Dean’s cock was burning.
“Stop.” Dean’s voice was ragged and breathy, but Sam stopped, his weight pressed against Dean, his ass filled and hot. Dean tilted his hips, pressing his cock against Sam’s prostate, making him moan. Do you feel it Sammy?
Sam’s head fell forward and he responded by squeezing his ass muscles around Dean. Dean slid his arms around Sam, grabbing his dick roughly and pulling on it. Like this?
Sam came quickly, spilling hot over Dean’s hand. Dean pushed them forward, snapping his hips once, twice…then he was coming too, filling Sam with come before pulling out and sitting back on the floor, panting.
Sam was grinning when he turned around, trying to pull his pants up. “Just like that.”
Dean rolled his eyes and got up off the floor. “You should clean up before you come downstairs. You smell like we just had sex.”
Sam grinned even wider. “So do you.” His hands reached out and snagged Dean’s hips, pulling him closer. He opened his mouth and took Dean’s softening cock into his mouth, rolling it around and licking it from tip to base. Dean groaned and shook his head as Sam released him with a pop. “There, all better.”
“Dude, don’t think I’m doing the same for you.” Dean said as he turned on the tap at the sink and washed Sam’s come from his hands. He wet a wash cloth and handed it to Sam with a raised eyebrow.
Sam cleaned himself up and let Dean help him up off the floor. He relinquished the blanket of protection that kept Dana from prying and grinned when it was obvious she’d noticed. “Our absence has been noted.” Sam said, kissing Dean quickly.
Dean rolled his eyes and opened the bathroom door. “I told you.”
“You just said we still had company.” Sam countered, leading the way out through their bedroom, stopping at the door when he realized Dean wasn’t directly behind him.
“Go on down, I came up to get something.”
Sam shrugged and headed down the stairs. The living room seemed crowded with the biggest damn Christmas tree the local lot could sell them, and more decorations than was necessary, not to mention the people. Dana poked at him mentally and looked at Scott, who was hiding a laugh behind his hand. Missouri and John pointedly looked elsewhere.
“So…who’s ready for cocoa?” Sam asked as he hit the bottom of the stairs. It was a Christmas eve tradition in the Winchester home. Early dinner, then cocoa and the exchange of gifts with Missouri and John and this year, Scott.
“I’ll help, Sam.” Dana said, standing and following him into the kitchen. “I can’t believe you.” She said once they were out of earshot. “Scott already thinks you too are horndogs.”
She slapped his arm, then slapped him again. “I swear you live to embarrass me.”
“Dana, I do not live to embarrass you. That’s just one of the perks.” Sam smiled and she rolled her eyes.
“If I didn’t love you so much…and if seeing you smile again didn’t make me so happy…I’d punch you.”
Sam kissed her cheek. “Get the cups down, I’ll get the water started.”
Sam felt Dean as he joined Missouri and John. He was warm and happy and…hiding something. Sam peeked out, squinting in his direction, until Dana pulled him back. “It’s Christmas, stop poking around.”
“I wasn’t poking around.” Sam replied defensively. “Not yet, anyway.”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
Sam scowled at her. “We always open gifts on Christmas. Tonight is supposed to be for everyone else.”
“Things change. Cocoa’s done. Can you manage the tray?”
“Yes, go on and make sure the table’s clear.”
The point of traditions was that they didn’t change. Christmas was one of the first traditions they had established as a family…from that first one, when Dana was just a year old, floating ornaments onto the tree in an effort to help her Daddy decorate. To this day she chose to decorate using her powers.
Sam picked up the tray and headed into the living room. Dean was up almost immediately to help, taking the tray from Sam as he rounded the couch. Dana was already sitting on the floor by the tree. With Scott there, she’d be handing out presents in a more traditional manner than she usually did. She smiled up at him and reached for her cocoa.
Once everyone was comfortable, Dana started handing out presents. Sam settled back on the floor, leaning against Dean’s chair, content to watch. Christmas had never been a big thing for him growing up, but he’d learned to enjoy watching his family open gifts that he and Dean took great care in picking out. Missouri smiled as she opened her gift from Dana. Sam didn’t understand the significance, but apparently she did. She blew a kiss at Dana, who beamed.
John was next, a gift from Sam and Dean together, even though he’d be there in the morning too. He grinned as he peered into the box. It was a cheesy gift, but Dean had insisted because he and Sam hadn’t ever done the cheesy sons’ gift. A silver flask engraved with DAD across the front.
“Sam wouldn’t let me fill it with Jack.” Dean said, kissing the top of Sam’s head.”
“It’s been under the tree for two weeks…would you want to drink that?”
Dana hushed them both and handed an envelope to Scott with a wink. “That’s from all of us, Scott…even Papa.”
Scott glanced at John nervously, then opened the envelope. “I wanted to just put the carburetor in a box and wrap it…but Dana said it wasn’t classy.” Dean said, as Scott’s eyes bulged. “Bring the Camero by the shop next week and we’ll put it in, and tune the whole thing up for you. I should have the back seat in by then too.”
“Wow, I don’t know what to say.”
“No need, we know you love that car.” Sam replied.
“Your turn.” Dana said, handing Sam an envelope as well.
Dean’s hands fell on his shoulders. “It’s from all of us too.” Because we’re so proud of you.
Sam’s hand was trembling as he opened it, unsure what to expect. He wasn’t really good at the getting gifts thing. It made him uncomfortable…even more so with everyone looking at him.
He pulled tickets out of the envelope. Airline tickets. “What’s this?” Two first class tickets for first thing in the morning to Vegas.
“Just a little get away. You and me and a penthouse suite at the Mandalay Bay.” Dean said, squeezing his shoulders.
“Dean-“
“It wasn’t his idea.” John said, looking at him with a face that said he wouldn’t hear any arguments. “It was mine. You’re going.”
“Thank you.” Sam said a little meekly. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Thank you is the perfect thing.” Dana said, rising up on her knees to kiss his cheek.
The rest of the gift exchange went by in a bit of a blur, as Sam stared at the tickets and realized they’d been hiding this for more than a month. In the envelope behind the plane tickets were tickets to a show, the room reservation, and spending money.
He and Dean had never really done anything like this. Weekends away and family vacations that included Dana and John generally…and never really went well…or were just hunting opportunities in disguise…but a week’s vacation, alone…together…In sixteen years, that hadn’t happened.
He felt Dean brushing against him, checking in…making sure he was okay. He’d been doing that a lot since they’d ganged up on him and made him realize his self-destructive guilt was going to get him killed.
Sam brushed back, a sort of mental kiss, and closed his eyes, letting Dean’s warmth and presence flow over him.
“My, my…would you look at that? You boys gonna need your sleep if you’re gonna catch that plane.” Missouri was standing, her eyebrow raised as Sam looked up at her. “Come on Scott, its time the non-Winchester people were on their way home.”
Scott looked startled, but smiled when Dana kissed him. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Merry Christmas, Missouri…you too Scott.” Dean said, though he sounded tired and made no move to get up from the chair.
John stood too, stretching. “I’ll get my bag from the truck. You boys really should head to bed. It’s already 9 and we’ve gotta leave the house by 6am.”
“We’re going.” Dean said, pushing on Sam’s back. “Come on, Sammy. It’s you’re turn to tuck me in.”
The penthouse suite was enormous, and reminded Sam of his younger years, when he could have almost anything he wanted. The floor to ceiling windows looked out over the lights of the strip. The bed was a king, the bathtub big enough for him and Dean to fit in together, without feeling crowded.
It was more luxury than he’d seen since he’d left Boston with Dean.
The front desk clerk had looked at them strangely when they checked in for a week’s stay with only one small duffle bag a piece, and Dean had shocked Sam when he joked with the clerk that they didn’t intend to leave the room much.
There was a thunk as Dean tossed both bags on the bed. Sam crossed to the windows, hands in his pockets. He was still unsure of how to approach this whole thing emotionally. It was an extravagant gift, one he would never have expected from the generally practical and frugal Winchester clan.
Dean came up behind him, sliding his hands through Sam’s arms and into Sam’s pockets, tugging him back against him. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
Sam shook his head lightly. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Dean pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “We did it…You’ve come so far in the last 4 months, Sam…and we wanted you to know how proud we are.”
“I thought it was because you wanted to have a week of loud, obnoxious sex.” Sam said, pushing his ass against Dean.
“Yeah, well, there’s that too.”
It was still early, barely 1:30 in the afternoon. Sam turned in Dean’s arms, kissing his forehead. “Thank you.”
Dean smiled wickedly. “Don’t thank me yet. Christmas isn’t over.”
“Oh?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You mean there’s more?”
“First, there’s nap time.” Dean kissed him lightly. “Then we’ll be having a nice dinner here in the suite.” He kissed him again. “Then I plan on stripping you naked and licking you from head to toe.” He turned them and started walking them toward the bedroom. “Then I thought I’d give you my present…and play with it.”
“And when do I give you your present?”
Dean stopped and looked up at him. “That depends on what your present is.”
Sam shook his head. “Not telling.”
“In that case, how about after I pin you to the wall and-“
Sam grabbed him and pulled him closer, kissing him hard and turning them so that Dean’s back was to the bed. “You said something about a nap?” He pushed and Dean fell to the bed.
“I meant to sleep.”
“Yeah…I know…” Sam pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. “Can’t sleep in those boots.” He pushed Dean down further and pulled off his boots. “Probably easier to get comfortable without the jeans. Dean stopped fighting as Sam reached for his zipper and pulled his jeans, even lifted his ass so Sam could get them off.
“I could just get up and strip.” Dean offered, but Sam shook his head.
Sam knocked their duffle bags off the bed and proceeded to pull his own jeans down, kicking off his shoes as the jeans reached the floor and leaving the whole mess on the floor. He stopped and cocked his head at his brother. “You would strip for me?”
Dean blushed red and scooted up the bed to sit with his back against the headboard. “I’d take my clothes off, if that’s what you mean.”
Sam shook his head and crawled up the bed toward him. “Not what I meant.”
Dean grinned as Sam leaned over him, hovering just out of reach without moving. “I don’t dance, Sammy.”
“Sure you do…when no one’s looking.” Sam whispered, moving just enough to brush his lips over Dean’s. “You think I don’t know…but I’ve heard you singing…I’ve seen you dance…”
Dean cleared his throat. “Spying on me?”
Sam shook his head, making his nose move over Dean’s. Seen it in here.
“Oh, so just invading my mind?”
Sam flushed Dean’s mind with images of Dean at various stages of his life, ending with one of him in tight jeans and a t-shirt, lip syncing to “Cherry Pie” and dancing barefoot while he slowly undressed. “I replay that sometimes when you’re late coming home.” Sam whispered. “Then…when you come in…I can’t wait to pounce on you and fuck you and make you beg.”
He pushed Dean’s head back against the headboard as he kissed him, slanting his mouth over Dean’s open lips, sliding his tongue in to taste the watermelon Jolly Rancher he chewed on descent to pop his ears.
“What is it with you and cherries?” Dean asked breathlessly when Sam pulled back.
Sam shoved the image back at him, his ass in the mirror as he bent over to peel the jeans down his legs…that right there.
“What’s that got to do with cherries?” Dean asked, then blushed bright red again…”Give me a break, I was 17…and I wasn’t a virgin.”
“But that ass was.” Sam countered, kissing him again, one hand sliding between his legs to fondle him. “Besides, as I recall…it was you who started the whole cherry thing.” Just as Dean’s cock started to respond, Sam stopped and flopped to the bed beside him, punching his pillow into submission.
“Hey!”
Sam lifted his head and almost managed to suppress the grin. “What?”
“You just gonna tease me and leave me hanging?”
“You’re the one who wanted us to nap.”
Dean gaped at him, opening and closing his mouth. “But…you started…”
This time Sam did grin, and it was evil. “You strip for me, and I’ll finish the job.”
“That’s not fair.”
Sam mock-yawned and stretched, settling in and closing his eyes. After a few minutes he felt Dean move so he was on his back. “You cheat.” Dean muttered before rolling onto his side, his back to Sam.
“Yeah…but I win.” Sam murmured.
The nap time idea turned out to be a good one, and Sam woke feeling refreshed and better than he had since he’d revealed his worst secrets to Dean and their father. Dean wasn’t in the bed, nor in the suite, but he left a note on the table saying he’d gone to get a few things.
Sam decided to take a soak in the mammoth tub, poking a mental finger at the little blob of healing power to send ripples of warmth and strength through him. Whatever Dean had in mind, it was likely to be a long night…and Sam wanted to be as ready as he could be.
He heard the suite door open and close, bags rustling. Then felt Dean reach out. “In the bathroom.”
“Oh, you read my mind.” Dean said with a smirk as he came into the room and found Sam reclining in the tub.
“Where’d you go?”
“Downstairs. I forgot my toothbrush.”
Sam rolled his eyes and looked up at him. “Yeah, whatever.”
Dean started pulling his clothes off. “Budge over, I want in.”
Sam moved and Dean slid in groaning as his body sank into the heated water. “So really, where’d you go?” Sam asked as Dean settled in against the back of the tub and reached for him.
“I told you. I needed a toothbrush…and stuff.”
“Dude, it’s Christmas, what could possibly be open?”
“Dude, it’s Vegas.” Dean countered, pressing his lips over Sam’s right shoulder. He followed the thickest scar to the deep pocket. “Don’t worry about it. Let me surprise you.”
“Seriously Dean, this whole thing you’ve got going on? It’s not that I don’t appreciate it…but it’s starting to make me uncomfortable.”
“What thing?” Dean asked, kissing down another scar.
“You spoiling me…it’s…sweet…but-“
Dean’s finger pressed against his lips. “No buts. This is part of your therapy.”
“Therapy?”
Dean nodded with his cheek pressed to Sam’s shoulder. “And as your therapist, I say when you’ve had enough.”
“Dean, I’m serious.”
“So am I. Sammy. Look.” He sighed and Sam turned to see him. “Let me have tonight, okay? Just…relax and let me give you this…tomorrow we’ll…do it however you want.”
Sam looked at him, at the fire sparkling in his eyes…at the sincerity in every line of his face. He wrapped himself mentally around Dean and bowed his head. “What do you want me to do?”
Dean smiled, and Sam blushed. That was the smile that got Dean almost anything he wanted, from just about anybody. He pulled Sam back up against him. “Trust me…and let me take care of you…of everything.” He kissed the back of Sam’s head. “Can you do that?”
Truth be told, it made Sam very nervous…but yes, he could do that. He knew Dean only wanted to make it special. “I’m all yours, Dean.” Sam consciously let go, let himself float a little in the water, Dean’s hand the only anchor he had. It was a gesture he knew Dean wouldn’t miss.
“I’ve got you, baby…just relax.”
Dean washed him then, gently and carefully…the washcloth dipped in the water and swirled over skin. When Dean finally nudged him to get him moving, Sam was relaxed and drifting. Dean pulled the plug and climbed out first, reaching out a hand to steady Sam with one hand.
Sam’s skin was pink from the heat as Dean wrapped him in a large white towel and patted him on the rump to get him moving. “There’s a robe on the bed.”
Twenty minutes later, both of them were wrapped in warm, fluffy robes and room service was delivering their meal. It was dark outside the giant windows, the colorful display of the lights of the strip painting the backdrop of night with bright splashes, like some abstract art.
“You going to feed me too?” Sam asked as Dean filled his plate.
Dean grinned. “If you need me to.”
There was a decided theme to the meal Sam noticed as he picked up his fork. Pork loin with a cherry-currant sauce. A rice dish with nuts and cherries. Cherry tomatoes. He raised an eyebrow. Dean just chuckled.
“What? No Cherry Pie?” Sam asked.
“Dessert. Comes after dinner.” Dean said, poking his fork toward Sam. “Eat.”
Sam wasn’t particularly hungry, but Dean had been extra vigilante over his eating habits lately, so he made a show of eating, finishing more than half what Dean put on his plate.
Sam started to clean up, but Dean caught his hand. “Leave it.” He kissed Sam’s fingers. “I’ll be right back.” Sam watched him leave the room, then went to the window to look out at the lights.
When the music started, he turned, but Dean was right behind him, pressing his hands to the glass. “Move your hands and I stop.” Dean said. “Watch the reflection.”
Sam’s eyes tried to follow him but he moved away as “Cherry Pie” played from somewhere. Sam dragged his eyes back to the reflection, watching as Dean danced a little, sliding off his bathrobe to reveal tight black leather pants…and little else. He might have been singing along, but Sam was caught by the way his hips moved…the way the leather stretched over his ass when he bent over.
He couldn’t move, so he reached for Dean with his mind instead, expressing his joy as Dean danced toward him, reaching around him and opening his robe. His hands moved down, between his legs, and Sam was hard fast. “So easy.” Dean whispered before he danced away.
Sam watched over his shoulder again until it hurt, then turned his eyes back to the window. He groaned when Dean bent over, running a hand over his ass. Dean moved back, slowly, over the floor to Sam’s side, peeling his right hand from the window, and pulling the sleeve of the robe off.
Dean sucked the webbing between his thumb and forefinger until Sam’s eyes rolled closed and then he licked over the palm, before pressing it back against the window and repeating the whole process with his left hand, leaving Sam standing naked in front of the huge window overlooking the strip.
He could feel leather against his skin as Dean pressed in close. “I like having you here, like this.” Dean whispered. “On display…the whole world could see you if they knew where to look…they’d see you and know that you belonged to me.”
Dean kissed over his shoulders, his hands smoothing down Sam’s back, to his ass and around his hips. Sam shuddered against him, moving his ass over Dean’s leather covered cock. Dean.
“Easy…easy baby…my way…” Dean dragged his hand down Sam’s cock, burying his face between Sam’s shoulder blades, kissing, licking, biting. “Want you Sammy…want you so bad it hurts sometimes…” He flicked his thumb over the tip of Sam’s dick and Sam lurched forward, his head hitting the glass. “Want to fuck you right here where the whole world can see Sammy…”
There was the sound of a zipper, the Dean’s feet were pushing Sam’s legs further apart, his hands pushing, pulling until Sam was where he wanted him…a slight hesitation then a cold slick finger pressed inside him. Sam groaned…More…
Dean pulled the finger out and pressed in with his slicked up cock. Sam could see in the reflection, the concentration on his face…could feel the leather still encasing him, all but that cock as it moved into Sam…slow and steady…stretching and pulling. Once in, Dean’s hands closed on Sam’s hips, holding him in place as he fucked up and in…Sam started to move a hand to his own cock, but Dean stopped him.
Hands on the window.
Sam couldn’t make actual words form, just sent his need and lust into Dean…who responded with snapping his hips faster and harder. “Love you…need you Sammy…never letting you go.”
Sam bent his head against the window. Dean’s hand rose up to his left shoulder, pulling him down into his thrust up. Sam stiffened a little, pushed the memory away. To his surprise, Dean brought it back up, held it between them for a moment, his movement stopped. Not me
Sam shook his head. I know.
Dean retightened his hold on Sam’s shoulder. This is me.
Sam responded by pushing back onto him. Want this.
Dean shifted his stance and shoved in hard. Sam’s knees buckled and they went down together, Dean’s hand pressing Sam forward even as he intensified his forward movement. The new angle hit Sam’s sweet spot and Sam shivered as his cock throbbed, begging to be touched.
Sam’s eyes closed, his hands in fists against the glass. Then he felt Dean…surrounding his cock with heat, with…Sam gasped as Dean mentally masturbated him. “Fuck…Dean…” Sam came quickly, painting the glass and floor with sticky streams of come.
Dean followed him quickly…coming hot inside him and pulling him close. “Merry Christmas Sammy.”
They pulled apart and stood, and Sam caught Dean to pull him in for a deep kiss. “Does that mean it’s my turn?” Sam’s hand closed over Dean’s sticky cock and Dean hissed.
“Need a little time to recover,” he murmured
“Plenty of time.” Sam whispered, walking them back toward the table. “I thought we’d have dessert.” Sam pushed Dean into the chair and opened the container hiding two slices of pie. He straddled his brother’s lamp, lifting one piece in his hand. Cherries dripped off the sides onto his hands, but he ignored them as he lifted the pie to Dean’s mouth.
Dean took a bite, his eyes locked on Sam’s. Sam pulled the pie away and leaned down, his mouth slanting over Dean’s, his tongue swirling through the pie until Dean groaned and swallowed. After several bites, Sam set the pie aside, his cherry coated hands smoothing over Dean’s chest, joining the bits of filling that fell while they ate.
“Mmm…we seem to be a mess.” Sam said, a twinkle in his eye.
“We?” Dean responded raising an eyebrow.
“I should clean it up.” He started to get up, and Dean pulled him back down.
“With your tongue.”
It was Sam’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just tie you down and dump the rest of it onto you and eat you clean.” He felt Dean’s dick jump between them and laughed. “So much for recovery.”
He kissed him then, mouth filled with cherry and sweetness, and when he pulled back, he met Dean’s eyes. “Thank you.”
Dean didn’t have to ask, his mind brushed against Sam’s, affection warm and sticky like the pie filling Sam’s mind. He may have never had the opportunity to raise his son, to know him and make him family…but he had Dean and Dana, and even John…and they loved him. And Sam would never fully understand why…but he was starting to believe that maybe he didn’t have to.