His Brother on the Bed
Title: His Brother on the Bed
Author: captainswank
Pairing: wincest
Rating: Hard R
Words: ~1,000
Summary: Dean's all pissy 'cause he ate too much. Sammy takes care of him.
Dean had spread himself across the motel bed, the top button of his jeans undone. His full belly peeked out from between his rucked up shirt and his boxers in the warm light of late afternoon.
“Sam-my,” Dean moaned, sitting up a little to throw his brother a look of exaggerated petulance. “My tummy hurts.”
“No shit, Sherlock. That’s what happens when you school the county’s five-time defending champion in a burger eating contest.” Sam smiled, amusement behind his words. Dean moaned again as he squirmed against the comforter, his shirt riding a little higher up his body.
“Kiss it better?” Dean asked, putting on a face Sam was sure was meant to be encouraging, but really just made him laugh so hard that he almost fell off his chair.
“What are you, five?” he managed, after he finished choking. There was something about “Dean” and “coy” in the same thought that tended to result in major brain malfunction. But Dean just kept on moaning about burgers and being so full and the depth of his suffering and how he was going to die, and Sam regained his composure a little bit.
Those fleeting moments in which Dean could be described as cute were so few and far between that Sam felt he had to take advantage of this one before his brother reverted back to Douche Mode. So he rose from his chair to sit on the bed beside Dean, who had finally fallen still and quiet.
Dean’s face was still all scrunched up in displeasure, but Sam couldn’t keep the fondness from his own smile.
“You’re such a whiner,” he whispered, as he slid his fingers up and under Dean’s shirt. His big hand stroked slow, warm, soothing circles over Dean’s sore belly, which Dean could only respond to with deep little pleased sounds. “And you always do the dumbest things,” Sam added, the smile still in his eyes.
Sam continued rubbing while Dean pushed his belly up into his palm, radiating contentment. He was suddenly put in mind of some big dumbass cat that had eaten too many burgers. If Dean started purring Sam was definitely going to leave.
“C’mon, Sammy. I totally kicked ass back there. You proud of me?” Dean grinned, eyes closed.
“Congratulations, you ate a fuckton of dead cow,” Sam deadpanned, and he rubbed and rubbed.
“Aww, don’t I deserve some kinda reward?” Sam rolled his eyes. He totally shouldn’t encourage this; it could really only get worse from here. But Dean was pouting and wasn’t that some kinda bullshit.
“Fine,” Sam conceded, as he pushed up Dean’s t-shirt with both hands. “Fine,” he whispered again, leaning down to press his lips against Dean’s bare tummy, finding it smooth and warm beneath his mouth. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up and around it, his tongue peeking out to leave sweet little licks around his bellybutton.
“You did really good,” Sam said, low and soft into Dean’s belly. Dean responded with a perfect moan and a sharp little intake of breath. “You’re so good for me like this.” He had moved up Dean’s chest and neck and then to his mouth, and swallowed down Dean’s next sound s of pleasure.
Sam knew what got to Dean, and sometimes he wished he didn’t know the exact reason why, but he really couldn’t help himself. Who else could take apart Dean Winchester with a few little words?
But Sam wasn’t too sure what it was that he meant by “like this.” Was it seeing Dean act all cute and sleepy, or having his body all pliant in his hands, or was it having him stuffed full on the bed below him?
Whatever it was it really was good. So incredibly good.
Sam reached down to pull at the zipper of his brother’s jeans, which seemed to squeeze a little tighter after everything Dean had eaten. He pulled Dean’s cock out of his boxers, hard and smooth and so hot in his hand. He pulled himself out too, and began to drape himself over Dean until his brother let out a little oof. He laughed and rolled them over on their sides so he wouldn’t put too much pressure on Dean’s full stomach, and entwined their legs together so they could line up their cocks side by side.
Sam took care of Dean like that, taking them both in his hand and getting them off together. This was the world’s greatest view, Dean’s freckles standing out against the flush of his cheeks, his eyelashes so long and thick like a girl’s, his pink lips open as he moaned for Sam. And he just had to look down to see their cocks slide together, wet and perfect.
It might have been minutes or it might have been hours, but Sam could tell that Dean was close so he let himself go to focus on his brother, jacking him fast like he needed it, whispering whatever crazy bullshit came to his head, about wishing that he could fill his brother up so good, make him drink him down, how Dean would take it all from him.
It was enough to get Dean where he was going and on a sigh he came hard, all over the bed and Sam’s hand. With bone-deep exhaustion he tipped onto his back, splayed out and sated under Sam.
Sam put his hand back on his own dick, jacking it and jacking it, looking down at his brother on the bed.
And then suddenly he was done, it was too sweet, Dean all spread open and fucked out beneath him, warm and soft and smiling and happy for just two seconds, they could have this, they deserved this, he needed this, and then Sam came all over Dean’s tummy, come pooling in his bellybutton and sliding down his side.
There were a few seconds of silence, but of course Dean couldn’t let that much time elapse without fucking with Sam.
“You like this, don’t you?” Dean asked through a yawn, as he rubbed his brother’s come into his belly. “This gets you hot.”
Sam ran his hand through his hair and looked around the room for answers that were apparently not forthcoming. “I dunno, man, it’s just-”
But Dean was already out, his breathing soft and slow and his smile small and secret.