Lazy Sunday
Lazy Sunday
The smell of coffee brings him around first. He doesn’t want to get out of bed but he should. He knows better than anyone that the work won’t wait, but he can’t seem to help himself as he pulls the blanket up around his shoulders and tries to turn over.
The body stopping him from rolling onto his back is firm and warm and he’d turn away again to claim sleep except a large hand was just placed on his hip, possessive and strong. “Mmm…” is all the coherence he can manage before his morning cup of caffeine and everyone that’s ever spent a morning with him knows that.
He doesn’t get coffee though and he’s not expected to think clearly apparently because he’s pushed forward until he’s on his stomach. He doesn’t protest, just wraps his arms up under the pillow and rests his head on it.
“Sammy?” he mumbles out.
He feels Sam’s warm breath against his neck and Sam’s hand is running across his skin, leaving trails of goose bumps.
“Yeah, Dean?”
“Interview the witness this morning?”
“Got everything we needed over the phone. Don’t have to go out until tonight.”
Dean sighed heavily as he felt Sam shifting over him, the weight of his brother’s body pressing him down into the mattress. He moans as Sam’s lips brush across the back of his neck and then he’s biting into the pillow to keep any other noises from following because Sam is working his way down Dean’s spine, inch by inch, licking and sucking.
He knows he’s not going back to sleep now, but he’s more than okay with it. They don’t often get to do this, to just take the time and enjoy the moment. Half the time, it’s hard, pressed up against a wall, thank god we made it out this time. The majority of the rest falls somewhere between quick hand jobs in the car and dirty blowjobs in bathroom stalls because by the time the get home to whatever flea trap they’re staying in that night, they’re too tired or worked up about the hunt to just be.
Sam makes his way to the base of Dean’s spine and Dean can’t help but chuckle as Sam pulls him into position, on his knees but pressed low to the mattress, his ass on display for the world to see. It does things to Sam that Dean will let himself be vulnerable like this. It does things to Dean that anything he does affects Sam.
Sam’s hands run over the curves of his ass before pulling him apart. He leans in and Dean can feel his breath against the sensitive skin there. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to make the most of the sensations. Sam doesn’t do anything at first, just breathes over his hole, teasing and brushing ever so lightly with his lips. Dean would push back into it, would beg for Sam to do something if he didn’t love the way his brother drew it out so much. Not that Dean wouldn’t get his brother back later for it, but they both held these moments close when the road was too long and the nights were too fucking short.
He moans out his need, can’t help it and Sam leans in, kissing his twitching muscles before he finally lets his tongue out to play. He circles around Dean’s entrance, lapping across it with the flat of his tongue, dancing over the edges when he had it in a hard point. His fingers keep Dean spread, massaging the flesh as he torments Dean.
Sam continues to flick across him until Dean is practically vibrating with need. He lets out a soft, “Sammy,” and then his brother’s tongue is pushing inside him, slow and steady. Dean would give in to the urge to push back, to get more of his brother, to demand a harder pace, but Sam knows him and his hands are there, bracing Dean where he is.
He works his tongue slowly in and out of Dean, flicking around inside the rim before he finally presses one of his long fingers in beside it.
“Sammy, please,” he’s begging by the time Sam gets three fingers working in and out of him and he knows it. No matter how much he enjoys the slow slip and slide of Sam’s tongue he needs more and Sam won’t give it to him until Dean is a quivering mess.
“Yeah,” Sam whispers against his thigh. Sam leans up over him then, plants his hands on either side of Dean’s head and his cock is already slicked and rubbing at the crease of Dean’s ass. Sam strokes himself even harder that way, Dean’s breath catching each time Sam’s cock catches on his rim.
“Sammy,” he demands this time and Sam’s hand reaches between them, lining himself up good. When he presses in, it’s one long sweet glide home and Dean is moaning so loud he’s sure the neighbors would be calling the office if they weren’t surrounded by vacancies.
“Fuck Dean, so goddamn hot.”
His voice is wrecked but his control isn’t. Sam pulls out until only the head of his dick is caught inside the ring of muscles and then he’s sliding back in, slow and easy like he’s got all day. And fuck, they actually do.
He can’t take it like this all day though, can’t help the way he’s mewling as his brother’s cock breaks him apart, slow and sweet, like he’s something delicate and precious that Sam needs to take his time with.
He’s pressing back into Sam now, trying to speed things up, but Sam’s one hand comes up and pushed Dean’s chest down into the mattress, keeping him from doing anything more than take it at whatever pace Sam wants.
Luck is on his side though because as much as Sam is in control, even he can’t fight it off forever and the slick and slip or their bodies is working him up faster than normal.
“Dean, oh fuck, Dean,” Sam mumbles as he pressed his lips into his hair, his breath warm on the back of Dean’s ear.
Sam finds the right spot and starts pounding into him then, long, hard pulses that make him arch up every time. He screams his brother’s name as he coats the sheets in come, feels the way his ass is tightening around Sam’s cock and then Sam is pressing his lips to Dean’s shoulder, a silent scream ripping through him as he comes hard.
They don’t move, not until Dean can feel Sam’s arms trembling so bad he’s afraid his brother is about to drop on him and trap him face first into his pillow. When he does move, he simply rolls over to his side and Sam curls up behind him, hand back on his hip, possessively, where it belongs.
He knows he should get up and shower. He should get up and have breakfast. He should get up and get the coffee. But it’s a lazy Sunday and they have all day to do nothing. They’ve still got all day to get good and dirty.
And smile pulls at the corner of his lips and Sam kisses the back of his neck.
“What are you thinking?” Sam asks softly, half asleep already.
“Just thinking how fun it will be to get clean tonight.”
His voice sounds like a promise.
Sam’s quiet laughter accepts.