Fanfic - SPN: Sam/Dean. 076. Predatory.
Title: Not a Kid Anymore
Author: eboniorchid
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Dean
Prompt: 076. Predatory. For 100moods, challenge table here.
Word Count: ~2,900 words.
Rating: NC-17 for language and sexuality.
Warnings/Spoilers: Wincest. Slash. Graphic sex with a little angst. First time. Mildly dominant!Sam. Foul language. No spoilers.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made, no offense intended.
Summary: Sam is a hunter and, tonight, Dean is the prey. Sequel to "Wherein Sam Explains His Decision"
Author's Notes: Mostly PWP. I'm not actually sure if this sequel achieved what I imagined it should back when I was writing "Wherein Sam Explains His Decision" but if you're interested in some kiss-heavy smut, this will be right up your alley. Betaed by mastered.
It was at the end of a hunt. Nothing too serious, but Sam had done the saving this time and he was prodding Dean about how much he did, in fact, not suck as a hunter. "And you said college made me soft." "Yeah, well, maybe you're not the worst person to watch my ass." It was a small concession, but it was enough. Some banter, some care, some respect, maybe even some innuendo, and then a relaxed silence settled in the car.
Sam was driving them back to the motel, Dean reclining passenger-side. They were each a bit scratched up, but not terribly so. Nothing really to patch. Just a wash-and-go kind of deal. Sam thought he had a plan for the night, but plans were often subject to change without warning in this family, so he tried to keep his expectations to a minimum. Still, he was way too anxious about how tonight would go to sit still, even though he was trying not to arise suspicion in his brother. There was so much riding on tonight, at least for Sam. If Dean rejected him, refused to see just how right this was, Sam would be torn up and stuck in awkward forever.
He was pretty sure that Dean wouldn't give him shit about whatever happened, even if it turned out horribly. No, Dean would just pretend it never happened at all, scrubbing his mind of the events of the night and reapplying his smirk in the morning. If everything went wrong, or even if it all went right, the likelihood of Dean ever saying anything about it was slim to none. So, Sam tried to be thankful for small mercies.
They stopped off to grab food, which Dean inhaled when they hit the room, sprinting off to the shower. Everything was going fine. Sam just had to keep telling himself that. When Dean shuffled out, towel slung low on his hips, Sam slid past him quickly and into the steam of the bathroom, clicking the door shut behind him. He leaned heavily against the door, willing his heart to beat a normal speed before he stripped to wash his nerves away.
When Sam emerged from the shower minutes later, he toweled down slowly, controlling the meter of his breaths, preparing his mind and body to cross the threshold into unknown territory. Then, he wrapped the towel around his waist, tucking and rolling the ends to keep his hands free for other things.
Opening the bathroom door, Sam watched Dean sitting on the nearest bed in a t-shirt and boxers, laughing at some SNL skit. His whole face was open, his eyes twinkling, and Sam wanted to keep him smiling, just like that, always. After a moment of joyful oblivion, Dean's laughter faded somewhat when his eyes passed briefly over Sam before returning to the screen.
Sam was like a god emerging from the mist. The damp mess of his hair announcing that he's too cool to even need to care. The sculpted curves and angles of his body glistening wet and rippling with strength kept carefully in check. The assertive sensuality of his face, baby-sweet and hard lines all at the same time. His entirety framed by the fading tendrils of steam that curled around him into the cool of the room.
Dean's smile faltered a little as Sam stayed standing, just a step inside the room. Dean's eyebrows knit a little as he glanced at Sam, the corners of his mouth turned up, good-naturedly puzzled. "Sammy?" Sam got it then. The childhood nickname. The nervous tremble in Dean's tone. It wasn't about ruffling his feathers. Not really. Not right then. It was about erecting barriers to feelings that Dean would rather not have to face. If Dean was having a rough time pushing down his desires for his quite adult brother, this man named Sam, then he just shifted his thinking, shoving down his desires by pushing himself to see his wee little brother, a baby boy fondly called Sammy.
"I'm not a kid anymore." Sam wondered if the edge in his voice could cut through the blinding layers of Dean's denial. "Dude, I know." Dean licked his lips, shrugging self-consciously, steadfastly following the flickering lights of the TV screen. "Look at me." Sam spoke quietly, but his voice was strong with authority. Dean turned his head, eyes locking with Sam's. "Really look, Dean." All trace of mirth vanished and Dean hesitated before letting his gaze flow down and then slowly back up Sam's towel-clad body. Dean met Sam's eyes again, serious, sincere. "Okay, Sam. You're not a kid." Sam could see want and worry vying for priority in Dean's eyes, tension written in the bunch of his shoulders. "No, I'm not."
Sam said it with emphatic weight as if Dean should know what greater meaning lay behind those words. Dean quirked his head a bit to the right, brow creased tight, and distractedly switched off the television. "Sam, what's this about?" Dean probably thought Sam was going to confront him about his big secret, which he was, in a way. Sam moved in close, close until his knees brushed the bedspread and he was looking down, almost straight down, at his brother's upturned face. "I want you."
Dean's jaw tightened, grinding out his words. "You don't know what you're saying, Sam." Sam leaned in and stopped three breaths from Dean's lips. "Yes, Dean, I do." Dean froze, breathing shallow, eyes wide, but at least he wasn't running. That was a good sign.
Sam dipped to press his lips to Dean's, it was chaste for a moment, gentle, but present, an affirmation of an attraction that was mutual but still somewhat unsure of itself. Dean remained frozen, not quite willing to give himself to the kiss, but not quite willing to pull away. Sam raised his left hand to cradle Dean's head and neck, angling to deepen the kiss. When Dean slowly tried to pull back, Sam just brought them closer, prying Dean's mouth open with his tongue to trace the inner contours of his lips slowly. Every move Sam made was slow, deliberate, calculated, but also instinctual. He was a hunter, and tonight, Dean was the prey.
Sam wasn't forcing himself on Dean. Not really. If Dean truly wanted out, Sam knew that he would put up a real fight, dearly beloved brother or not. No, Dean was putting up just enough resistance to get Sam to stop only if Sam wasn't really committed to doing this. Of course, Sam was totally committed and tonight would be the first of many demonstrations of that very commitment.
Sam ravished Dean's mouth, establishing dominance in the pressure of his lips, the dig of his teeth, and the roll of his tongue. He stole the breath from Dean's lungs and swallowed down the throaty sound Dean made when he sucked on Dean's bottom lip and bit it red before sliding his tongue over the imprint that he left there.
Bending his knee onto the bed, Sam leaned into Dean, maintaining the intensity of the kiss as he followed Dean down to the pillows. His towel tugged loose a little, but neither brother was thinking much about covering up right then. When they were side by side on the queen-sized bed, Sam softened the kiss and let his left hand roam. His long fingers traced the curves of Dean's muscled arm before reaching over to stroke up and down his back. Pulling Dean's body flush against his, Sam could feel the stirrings of his brother's interest and knew it was met by his own burgeoning arousal. Dean wanted this, wanted him. He was just a bit skittish. So, Sam would have to push him in the right direction.
Continuing his calming, though sensual stroke across Dean's back, Sam let the kiss become something more of an exchange of breath before tugging the back of Dean's shirt up to slide his hand over skin. The touch was electrifying, his palm prickling from the heat of Dean's skin, Dean writhing against him, hypersensitive, breath irregular.
"Don't you feel that? The energy flowing between us? The way your skin is starving for my touch?" Sam dragged his fingertips in curving lines down Dean's back, Dean releasing a needy noise into the air as his boxer-clad hips snapped into Sam's towel-covered ones. "Give in to what you want." Sam brushed his fingers under the back waistband of Dean's boxers, eliciting a whimper. "Give me what I want."
Sam slid his hand fully inside Dean's boxers, palming Dean's ass and brushing fingers over the crease there. Dean shuddered, breath hitching. "I've already made my decision, Dean. I know what I want." Sam pressed his index finger into the cleft between Dean's flanks to tap at Dean's entrance. Dean bucked against Sam, knocking the towel loose a bit more. Sam brushed his thumb over Dean's hip, muffling Dean's needy whimper with a soft kiss. "I want to swallow every wanton moan you make when my hands are on you." He licked at Dean's lips. "I want to taste you and feel the rush of your warmth sing down my throat." He started making slow circles at Dean's puckered opening. "I want to fuck you until you fall to pieces in my arms." Sam pressed at Dean's opening, not into him yet, merely a promise. "I want you and I want you to be mine." Sam pushed in then, slowly, a rough reminder of his intentions. "Don't you want that?" Dean let out his breath with a choked groan. "God yes."
Sam kissed Dean fiercely then, withdrawing his hand from Dean's shorts so he could pull them down. He rolled a little, pressing Dean's back into the bed and continuing to tug at Dean's boxers. Breaking the kiss, Sam slid down Dean's body, towel finally relinquishing its hold, and stripped Dean of his underwear, tossing them absently on the floor. He took in the line of Dean's magnificent body and couldn't help resenting the t-shirt that still hid his chest from view. Dean seemed to recognize the error and leaned up to pull the shirt over his head, slinging it carelessly across the room.
They regarded each other for a moment, the room seeming to heave a sigh in that beat. Sam saw the full beauty of his brother, scars emphasizing smooth, and wanted to map each line and curve with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. Dean etched the nude glory of his brother into the treasures of his memory and ached to stake his claim on every inch of Sam's skin. When their eyes met, the need was tangible and heavy, but there was also the undercurrent of a deeper unspoken conviction. This intimacy, this burning lust, was just one more level of love between them, one more level of joy, one more level of trust, one more bridge they crossed together, one more journey never tainted with regret.
Dean pursed his lips, then, and licked them slowly, melting serious back to seduction. "You, uh, coming to bed, Sam?" Sam chuckled low as he began prowling up Dean's body, eyes intense. "I bet that smirk would look awfully pretty wrapped around my dick." Dean licked his lips again, his eyes flitting to the rigid length swaying between Sam's legs and back up to Sam's eyes. "Mmmm, maybe."
Straddling Dean's torso, Sam reached down to roll Dean's nipples between the thumb and pointer of each hand, his cock twitching as Dean arched up, panting. "You want to suck my cock. Don't you, Dean?" Sam pinched Dean's nipples tighter, gently tugging upwards. "That is what you want, isn't it?" Dean's breath hissed out. "Yes … fuck." Sam slowly pulled on Dean's nipples a little more, before letting them go with a smile as Dean inhaled sharply. "Then do it."
Sam put his hands on the headboard, positioning himself with his hips angled over Dean's chest, his cock bobbing at Dean's lips. The angle was a little tricky, but Sam didn't plan to stay there long. Dean's tongue darted out to lap at the leaking tip of Sam's cock before rolling the head into his mouth. Dean's hands snaked up behind Sam to guide the movements of his hips, sliding his cock slowly in and out of Dean's mouth.
Dean's tongue was warm and rough, wet and undulating, in a way that shoved Sam's collegeboy vocabulary into hibernation, but Dean seemed pretty good at understanding his hums and grunts. Sam would wonder, later, how his brother knew just how to do all those intensely sexy things with his mouth, but right then his upstairs brain was visiting the neighbor downstairs. Sam had just enough coherence left, however, to pull out before the pleasure built to dizzying heights.
Moving to kneel over Dean's chest, Sam reached over and opened the top drawer of the nightstand to grab the lube he had stashed there the day before. He crawled backwards until he was settled between Dean's thighs, then he traced the outline of Dean's cock with the cool bottle, teasing. Looking up at his brother's lust-filled face, Sam popped the cap on the bottle and poured lube into his right palm, slicking up the fingers of his left hand before tossing the closed bottle onto the floor.
Sam watched Dean's eager eyes and licked a smooth stripe up the underside of Dean's cock before wrapping it in his fist as his fingers knocked on Dean's backdoor. Dean's eyes shut tight as Sam started stroking his cock firmly, slipping one, then two fingers into him. Sam couldn't help watching the slide of his fingers in and out of Dean's ass. It was hot enough for Sam to see those slick movements and know that Dean was making those very un-Deanlike whining noises because of him. But the thought of his cock following the path of his fingers made Sam drive into Dean all the more vigorously.
"I can … mmm … take more." Dean sounded wrecked, his voice part gruff whisper, part moan, and it made Sam's cock throb with desire. Sam increased the speed of his hand around Dean's cock and pressed a third finger into Dean. Feeling the ring of muscle hug his fingers tightly, he guided them in and out of Dean's slick passage a bit faster. When Dean relaxed more, Sam angled his fingers, brushing them in a wide circle along Dean's inner walls and pulling a low groan from Dean before sliding his fingers out and slowing the pace of his jerking hand again.
Kneeling up between Dean's thighs, Sam practically pulled Dean into his lap as he positioned his cock to press against Dean's prepped entrance. Dean wrapped his legs around Sam's back and rocked his hips up, longing for Sam to penetrate him with that warm thickness. Sam loved watching desire, sensation, and frustration play over Dean's features and began nudging his cock slowly into Dean, stopping when only the tip was inside him. Dean was clenching and unclenching around him, muscles straining to pull Sam's cock deeper. "Sam … more … please." Sweat beaded on Sam's chest as he held back a bit longer, making Dean crazy for him. "More? You want more of my cock in your ass, Dean?" "Fuck … yes … just … yes!" The final affirmation was triumphant as Sam smoothly slid home before beginning a slow, steady pace that had Dean gripping his dick and the sheets with near-painful force.
Riding out the sensations pulsing up from the glide of Sam in and out of him, Dean's jerking hand moved at almost double the speed of Sam's languid thrusts. Then, the sensations began to be too much, even for Sam, and he started pressing deeper into Dean. Sam's thrusts were gentle but faster as he watched the waves of lust and need and bliss wash over Dean. In moments, the pleasure was rising higher and higher until it overtook Dean and he called out Sam's name, loud enough to wake half the town. Hearing his name spilling passion-coated from his brother's lips undid Sam and he thrust deep, filling Dean with his hot seed as he tossed his head back, brokenly breathing Dean's name to the sky.
Pulse slowing, muscles spent, Sam withdrew and collapsed on the bed beside Dean with an "oof". He retrieved his fallen towel from the floor and lazily mopped up the mess on and around both of them before tossing the towel back on the floor. Dean turned to him, peering at him with one half-open eye, slurring drowsily. "So … about what time should I pick you up tomorrow night? Oh, and roses? Or should I steal you some orchids instead?" Sam rolled his eyes, turning to face his brother who was silently quaking with bottled laughter. "You are so not even funny." Dean just grinned wide, his closed eyes crinkling at the edges, and Sam couldn't help grinning right back. Sated and goofy apparently looked really good on both of them.
As Dean's inner giggles faded to deep even breathing, Sam slung his arm over his brother and Dean snuggled into him, seeking affection in sleep with an ease he never had when awake. Sam closed his eyes and tightened the embrace, mumbling "mine" into Dean's hair as he drifted off to sleep.
Author: eboniorchid
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Dean
Prompt: 076. Predatory. For 100moods, challenge table here.
Word Count: ~2,900 words.
Rating: NC-17 for language and sexuality.
Warnings/Spoilers: Wincest. Slash. Graphic sex with a little angst. First time. Mildly dominant!Sam. Foul language. No spoilers.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made, no offense intended.
Summary: Sam is a hunter and, tonight, Dean is the prey. Sequel to "Wherein Sam Explains His Decision"
Author's Notes: Mostly PWP. I'm not actually sure if this sequel achieved what I imagined it should back when I was writing "Wherein Sam Explains His Decision" but if you're interested in some kiss-heavy smut, this will be right up your alley. Betaed by mastered.
It was at the end of a hunt. Nothing too serious, but Sam had done the saving this time and he was prodding Dean about how much he did, in fact, not suck as a hunter. "And you said college made me soft." "Yeah, well, maybe you're not the worst person to watch my ass." It was a small concession, but it was enough. Some banter, some care, some respect, maybe even some innuendo, and then a relaxed silence settled in the car.
Sam was driving them back to the motel, Dean reclining passenger-side. They were each a bit scratched up, but not terribly so. Nothing really to patch. Just a wash-and-go kind of deal. Sam thought he had a plan for the night, but plans were often subject to change without warning in this family, so he tried to keep his expectations to a minimum. Still, he was way too anxious about how tonight would go to sit still, even though he was trying not to arise suspicion in his brother. There was so much riding on tonight, at least for Sam. If Dean rejected him, refused to see just how right this was, Sam would be torn up and stuck in awkward forever.
He was pretty sure that Dean wouldn't give him shit about whatever happened, even if it turned out horribly. No, Dean would just pretend it never happened at all, scrubbing his mind of the events of the night and reapplying his smirk in the morning. If everything went wrong, or even if it all went right, the likelihood of Dean ever saying anything about it was slim to none. So, Sam tried to be thankful for small mercies.
They stopped off to grab food, which Dean inhaled when they hit the room, sprinting off to the shower. Everything was going fine. Sam just had to keep telling himself that. When Dean shuffled out, towel slung low on his hips, Sam slid past him quickly and into the steam of the bathroom, clicking the door shut behind him. He leaned heavily against the door, willing his heart to beat a normal speed before he stripped to wash his nerves away.
When Sam emerged from the shower minutes later, he toweled down slowly, controlling the meter of his breaths, preparing his mind and body to cross the threshold into unknown territory. Then, he wrapped the towel around his waist, tucking and rolling the ends to keep his hands free for other things.
Opening the bathroom door, Sam watched Dean sitting on the nearest bed in a t-shirt and boxers, laughing at some SNL skit. His whole face was open, his eyes twinkling, and Sam wanted to keep him smiling, just like that, always. After a moment of joyful oblivion, Dean's laughter faded somewhat when his eyes passed briefly over Sam before returning to the screen.
Sam was like a god emerging from the mist. The damp mess of his hair announcing that he's too cool to even need to care. The sculpted curves and angles of his body glistening wet and rippling with strength kept carefully in check. The assertive sensuality of his face, baby-sweet and hard lines all at the same time. His entirety framed by the fading tendrils of steam that curled around him into the cool of the room.
Dean's smile faltered a little as Sam stayed standing, just a step inside the room. Dean's eyebrows knit a little as he glanced at Sam, the corners of his mouth turned up, good-naturedly puzzled. "Sammy?" Sam got it then. The childhood nickname. The nervous tremble in Dean's tone. It wasn't about ruffling his feathers. Not really. Not right then. It was about erecting barriers to feelings that Dean would rather not have to face. If Dean was having a rough time pushing down his desires for his quite adult brother, this man named Sam, then he just shifted his thinking, shoving down his desires by pushing himself to see his wee little brother, a baby boy fondly called Sammy.
"I'm not a kid anymore." Sam wondered if the edge in his voice could cut through the blinding layers of Dean's denial. "Dude, I know." Dean licked his lips, shrugging self-consciously, steadfastly following the flickering lights of the TV screen. "Look at me." Sam spoke quietly, but his voice was strong with authority. Dean turned his head, eyes locking with Sam's. "Really look, Dean." All trace of mirth vanished and Dean hesitated before letting his gaze flow down and then slowly back up Sam's towel-clad body. Dean met Sam's eyes again, serious, sincere. "Okay, Sam. You're not a kid." Sam could see want and worry vying for priority in Dean's eyes, tension written in the bunch of his shoulders. "No, I'm not."
Sam said it with emphatic weight as if Dean should know what greater meaning lay behind those words. Dean quirked his head a bit to the right, brow creased tight, and distractedly switched off the television. "Sam, what's this about?" Dean probably thought Sam was going to confront him about his big secret, which he was, in a way. Sam moved in close, close until his knees brushed the bedspread and he was looking down, almost straight down, at his brother's upturned face. "I want you."
Dean's jaw tightened, grinding out his words. "You don't know what you're saying, Sam." Sam leaned in and stopped three breaths from Dean's lips. "Yes, Dean, I do." Dean froze, breathing shallow, eyes wide, but at least he wasn't running. That was a good sign.
Sam dipped to press his lips to Dean's, it was chaste for a moment, gentle, but present, an affirmation of an attraction that was mutual but still somewhat unsure of itself. Dean remained frozen, not quite willing to give himself to the kiss, but not quite willing to pull away. Sam raised his left hand to cradle Dean's head and neck, angling to deepen the kiss. When Dean slowly tried to pull back, Sam just brought them closer, prying Dean's mouth open with his tongue to trace the inner contours of his lips slowly. Every move Sam made was slow, deliberate, calculated, but also instinctual. He was a hunter, and tonight, Dean was the prey.
Sam wasn't forcing himself on Dean. Not really. If Dean truly wanted out, Sam knew that he would put up a real fight, dearly beloved brother or not. No, Dean was putting up just enough resistance to get Sam to stop only if Sam wasn't really committed to doing this. Of course, Sam was totally committed and tonight would be the first of many demonstrations of that very commitment.
Sam ravished Dean's mouth, establishing dominance in the pressure of his lips, the dig of his teeth, and the roll of his tongue. He stole the breath from Dean's lungs and swallowed down the throaty sound Dean made when he sucked on Dean's bottom lip and bit it red before sliding his tongue over the imprint that he left there.
Bending his knee onto the bed, Sam leaned into Dean, maintaining the intensity of the kiss as he followed Dean down to the pillows. His towel tugged loose a little, but neither brother was thinking much about covering up right then. When they were side by side on the queen-sized bed, Sam softened the kiss and let his left hand roam. His long fingers traced the curves of Dean's muscled arm before reaching over to stroke up and down his back. Pulling Dean's body flush against his, Sam could feel the stirrings of his brother's interest and knew it was met by his own burgeoning arousal. Dean wanted this, wanted him. He was just a bit skittish. So, Sam would have to push him in the right direction.
Continuing his calming, though sensual stroke across Dean's back, Sam let the kiss become something more of an exchange of breath before tugging the back of Dean's shirt up to slide his hand over skin. The touch was electrifying, his palm prickling from the heat of Dean's skin, Dean writhing against him, hypersensitive, breath irregular.
"Don't you feel that? The energy flowing between us? The way your skin is starving for my touch?" Sam dragged his fingertips in curving lines down Dean's back, Dean releasing a needy noise into the air as his boxer-clad hips snapped into Sam's towel-covered ones. "Give in to what you want." Sam brushed his fingers under the back waistband of Dean's boxers, eliciting a whimper. "Give me what I want."
Sam slid his hand fully inside Dean's boxers, palming Dean's ass and brushing fingers over the crease there. Dean shuddered, breath hitching. "I've already made my decision, Dean. I know what I want." Sam pressed his index finger into the cleft between Dean's flanks to tap at Dean's entrance. Dean bucked against Sam, knocking the towel loose a bit more. Sam brushed his thumb over Dean's hip, muffling Dean's needy whimper with a soft kiss. "I want to swallow every wanton moan you make when my hands are on you." He licked at Dean's lips. "I want to taste you and feel the rush of your warmth sing down my throat." He started making slow circles at Dean's puckered opening. "I want to fuck you until you fall to pieces in my arms." Sam pressed at Dean's opening, not into him yet, merely a promise. "I want you and I want you to be mine." Sam pushed in then, slowly, a rough reminder of his intentions. "Don't you want that?" Dean let out his breath with a choked groan. "God yes."
Sam kissed Dean fiercely then, withdrawing his hand from Dean's shorts so he could pull them down. He rolled a little, pressing Dean's back into the bed and continuing to tug at Dean's boxers. Breaking the kiss, Sam slid down Dean's body, towel finally relinquishing its hold, and stripped Dean of his underwear, tossing them absently on the floor. He took in the line of Dean's magnificent body and couldn't help resenting the t-shirt that still hid his chest from view. Dean seemed to recognize the error and leaned up to pull the shirt over his head, slinging it carelessly across the room.
They regarded each other for a moment, the room seeming to heave a sigh in that beat. Sam saw the full beauty of his brother, scars emphasizing smooth, and wanted to map each line and curve with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. Dean etched the nude glory of his brother into the treasures of his memory and ached to stake his claim on every inch of Sam's skin. When their eyes met, the need was tangible and heavy, but there was also the undercurrent of a deeper unspoken conviction. This intimacy, this burning lust, was just one more level of love between them, one more level of joy, one more level of trust, one more bridge they crossed together, one more journey never tainted with regret.
Dean pursed his lips, then, and licked them slowly, melting serious back to seduction. "You, uh, coming to bed, Sam?" Sam chuckled low as he began prowling up Dean's body, eyes intense. "I bet that smirk would look awfully pretty wrapped around my dick." Dean licked his lips again, his eyes flitting to the rigid length swaying between Sam's legs and back up to Sam's eyes. "Mmmm, maybe."
Straddling Dean's torso, Sam reached down to roll Dean's nipples between the thumb and pointer of each hand, his cock twitching as Dean arched up, panting. "You want to suck my cock. Don't you, Dean?" Sam pinched Dean's nipples tighter, gently tugging upwards. "That is what you want, isn't it?" Dean's breath hissed out. "Yes … fuck." Sam slowly pulled on Dean's nipples a little more, before letting them go with a smile as Dean inhaled sharply. "Then do it."
Sam put his hands on the headboard, positioning himself with his hips angled over Dean's chest, his cock bobbing at Dean's lips. The angle was a little tricky, but Sam didn't plan to stay there long. Dean's tongue darted out to lap at the leaking tip of Sam's cock before rolling the head into his mouth. Dean's hands snaked up behind Sam to guide the movements of his hips, sliding his cock slowly in and out of Dean's mouth.
Dean's tongue was warm and rough, wet and undulating, in a way that shoved Sam's collegeboy vocabulary into hibernation, but Dean seemed pretty good at understanding his hums and grunts. Sam would wonder, later, how his brother knew just how to do all those intensely sexy things with his mouth, but right then his upstairs brain was visiting the neighbor downstairs. Sam had just enough coherence left, however, to pull out before the pleasure built to dizzying heights.
Moving to kneel over Dean's chest, Sam reached over and opened the top drawer of the nightstand to grab the lube he had stashed there the day before. He crawled backwards until he was settled between Dean's thighs, then he traced the outline of Dean's cock with the cool bottle, teasing. Looking up at his brother's lust-filled face, Sam popped the cap on the bottle and poured lube into his right palm, slicking up the fingers of his left hand before tossing the closed bottle onto the floor.
Sam watched Dean's eager eyes and licked a smooth stripe up the underside of Dean's cock before wrapping it in his fist as his fingers knocked on Dean's backdoor. Dean's eyes shut tight as Sam started stroking his cock firmly, slipping one, then two fingers into him. Sam couldn't help watching the slide of his fingers in and out of Dean's ass. It was hot enough for Sam to see those slick movements and know that Dean was making those very un-Deanlike whining noises because of him. But the thought of his cock following the path of his fingers made Sam drive into Dean all the more vigorously.
"I can … mmm … take more." Dean sounded wrecked, his voice part gruff whisper, part moan, and it made Sam's cock throb with desire. Sam increased the speed of his hand around Dean's cock and pressed a third finger into Dean. Feeling the ring of muscle hug his fingers tightly, he guided them in and out of Dean's slick passage a bit faster. When Dean relaxed more, Sam angled his fingers, brushing them in a wide circle along Dean's inner walls and pulling a low groan from Dean before sliding his fingers out and slowing the pace of his jerking hand again.
Kneeling up between Dean's thighs, Sam practically pulled Dean into his lap as he positioned his cock to press against Dean's prepped entrance. Dean wrapped his legs around Sam's back and rocked his hips up, longing for Sam to penetrate him with that warm thickness. Sam loved watching desire, sensation, and frustration play over Dean's features and began nudging his cock slowly into Dean, stopping when only the tip was inside him. Dean was clenching and unclenching around him, muscles straining to pull Sam's cock deeper. "Sam … more … please." Sweat beaded on Sam's chest as he held back a bit longer, making Dean crazy for him. "More? You want more of my cock in your ass, Dean?" "Fuck … yes … just … yes!" The final affirmation was triumphant as Sam smoothly slid home before beginning a slow, steady pace that had Dean gripping his dick and the sheets with near-painful force.
Riding out the sensations pulsing up from the glide of Sam in and out of him, Dean's jerking hand moved at almost double the speed of Sam's languid thrusts. Then, the sensations began to be too much, even for Sam, and he started pressing deeper into Dean. Sam's thrusts were gentle but faster as he watched the waves of lust and need and bliss wash over Dean. In moments, the pleasure was rising higher and higher until it overtook Dean and he called out Sam's name, loud enough to wake half the town. Hearing his name spilling passion-coated from his brother's lips undid Sam and he thrust deep, filling Dean with his hot seed as he tossed his head back, brokenly breathing Dean's name to the sky.
Pulse slowing, muscles spent, Sam withdrew and collapsed on the bed beside Dean with an "oof". He retrieved his fallen towel from the floor and lazily mopped up the mess on and around both of them before tossing the towel back on the floor. Dean turned to him, peering at him with one half-open eye, slurring drowsily. "So … about what time should I pick you up tomorrow night? Oh, and roses? Or should I steal you some orchids instead?" Sam rolled his eyes, turning to face his brother who was silently quaking with bottled laughter. "You are so not even funny." Dean just grinned wide, his closed eyes crinkling at the edges, and Sam couldn't help grinning right back. Sated and goofy apparently looked really good on both of them.
As Dean's inner giggles faded to deep even breathing, Sam slung his arm over his brother and Dean snuggled into him, seeking affection in sleep with an ease he never had when awake. Sam closed his eyes and tightened the embrace, mumbling "mine" into Dean's hair as he drifted off to sleep.