Like Two Brothers Who Go on a Date - SPN, Slash, NC-17
Title: Like Two Brother's Who Go on a Date
Author:
thelonejuliet
Characters: Sam, Dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 2,118
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The boys are not mine, sadly. Kripke's not accepting my offer of my soul. Avenue Q isn't mine either.
Warnings: Boy kissing, hand jobs, blow jobs...oh! and incest!
Spoilers: I don't think there are any....but be cautious!
Author's Note: Unbeta'd! All mistakes are mine and I apologize more than profusely! :)
Title is from the song, "The More You Ruv Someone," from the musical Avenue Q.
Written for Sammy's birthday! [Partly] at
wendy's request!
Summary: For Sam's 24th birthday, Dean gets him out of the house...er...motel room for a night of escape from their daily lives.
All fics found here.
And here's Dean's birthday fic from January: Waking Dreams, Remembered Wishes
When Sam woke up on the morning of his 24th birthday, he immediately regretted it. He hated birthdays - hated them. He had just never seen the point, especially since his birthdays as a child were never made into a big deal. Just another day. Now, it meant another day that he moved farther and farther away from the life he thought he wanted, another year past normal.
Groaning, he rolled over to snuggle farther into his brother, but was met by a cold spot. He shot up in bed, looking around, automatically assuming that something had happened to Dean. He didn’t see any signs of danger though, nothing out of place.
Except there was one thing out of place.
In the closet, a black garment bag was hanging, with a piece of paper stuck to it. Sam untangled his limbs from the sheet and padded over. He pulled off the piece of hotel stationary with Dean’s lazy scrawl on it.
Sammy, be ready by 6:00. Dean.
“The hell?” Sam asked the empty room.
Inside the bag was a black suit, his size. A quick glance at the clock told him that he still had 6 hours to sit around and figure out what Dean was up to. Not that it would help. Dean had obviously been planning something for quite a while and no amount of time would lead Sam to the right answer.
About 5 hours later, he found himself clicking around the internet, having given up on TV and reading and just about anything else there was to do. Every 5 minutes since noon, he’d glanced over at the suit, half expecting it to come alive and spill Dean’s whole evil plan. Yes, evil plan. It couldn’t be good if Dean was being all secretive. And, apparently, running around San Diego completely unchaperoned.
Half an hour later, after 30 minutes of blatant staring at the damn suit, Sam finally motivated himself to shower. If he was even a minute past 6, Dean would have his ass. And, not in the good way.
At 5:59, he was dressed and ready to go when Dean opened the motel door, dressed similarly in suit and tie. And he looked good. Dean smiled at his younger brother, completely unaware that Sam was as worried as a whore in church on Sunday. “Hey, Sammy. You ready to go?”
Sam hopped up eagerly from his spot at the old table. “Why am I dressed like this? I don’t like it when you scheme.”
Dean stepped up to him and reached up to pull his head down into a light kiss. “You’ll see.”
Not one to argue when blood was quickly moving south of his brain, Sam just nodded and followed Dean out to the Impala. After dinner at a surprisingly upscale restaurant that they probably couldn’t afford, Dean started to get visibly nervous. While it made Sam happy to see his brother nervous because of him, it made him nervous too. Just what did Dean have to be nervous about? Sam was already on the verge of jumping his bones just for the nice dinner.
Dean parked the car in a parking garage in San Diego and pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. He looked at the front, threw a sheepish grin at Sam and climbed out of the car without a word.
“Where are we going, Dean?” Sam asked, quickly falling stride with his brother as they emerged into downtown San Diego.
“Sammy, Sammy! Patience is a virtue, Brother Mine!” Dean answered with a smile.
“That’s not an answer, Dean and you can’t -”
Sam broke off his statement when Dean stopped moving in front of the San Diego Civic Theatre. He stood there motionless save for the fishlike-movement of his jaw. Dean laughed and grabbed his hand, “C’mon!”
And, so the Winchester brothers went to the theatre - actually went to the theatre - to see Avenue Q for Sam’s birthday. Sam knew that Dean probably wasn’t suffering as much as he kept grumbling about, considering the uproarious laughter coming out of the man - especially when the Japanese character, Christmas Eve, sang about two brothers on a date. But, it was still a sacrifice, being out like that, and Sam loved him all the more for it. Dean had done all of this, all of the planning, for him. Just to make him happy for a night.
Later, as Dean fumbled with the key to the motel room, Sam decided to prove just how much he appreciated everything. He pressed up against his brother and placed small kisses on the back of his neck, simultaneously reaching down to stroke his fingers lightly against the seam of his crotch. Dean groaned and Sam felt the simultaneous twitch of his brother’s dick.
Dean nearly dropped the keys at the stimulation, so Sam reached forward, deliberately digging his own erection into Dean’s back, and grabbed the keys. He had the door open, closed and his brother pressed against it in less than three seconds.
He aligned his body with Dean’s and pressed their lips together, tongue seeking entrance. Dean moaned and opened his mouth, his tongue sliding easily against Sam’s. He thrust his hips up, bringing both of their dicks together, and drew a deep moan out of Sam that vibrated both of them. And, for a few minutes, it was just that - kissing languidly, rubbing their erections together through layers of fabric, bringing them closer and closer to the edge with just that.
Dean was the one to pull away, panting, “Less clothes. Now.”
Sam nodded, breathing heavily back into Dean’s mouth. “I concur.”
The room became chaos as they both scrambled out of their suits. Why did a suit need so many damn pieces anyway? When it was finally done, all offenses out of the way, the brothers came back together simultaneously, collapsing onto the worn bed.
The first brush of skin on skin drew a loud gasp from both of them as they crashed their mouths together with a little too much force, bumping heads in the process. Dean started laughing, but Sam cut it short with a wiggle of his hips that brought his freed dick sliding against Dean’s.
Dean twisted them so that Sam was spread out beneath him and looked down with so much heat and love that it made Sam’s heart tighten. Rather than turn everything into a total chick flick moment that Dean would just chide him about later, he pushed himself up and whispered, “Fuck. Me.”
Dean paused, seeming to consider something and then shook his head. He didn’t say anything, just reached down to grasp Sam’s cock in a firm grip and give a slow tug. Sam’s head fell back on his shoulders and he moaned, deep in his chest. Dean smiled and leaned down to mouth and nip at his now-exposed neck, hard enough that Sam was sure he would have marks there tomorrow. Not that he cared, because - hello! - Dean was steadily jacking him off, drawing it out in sweet torture.
Sam was completely at Dean’s mercy, so hyped up on his love for Dean and overwhelming gratefulness for the night, that he could do little more than whimper or moan or pull the older man’s face to his with such force they had three repeats of the head-banging incident.
Too soon, Sam came with a groan, head lolling onto Dean’s shoulder, cum spurting out and coating his stomach and Dean’s hand. Dean gave his brother a sly grin as Sam’s orgasm faded before moving down and licking the white mess off his stomach. The younger man’s dick gave a feeble twitch at the sight.
With Sam clean, Dean moved up to lay beside him on the bed, cock still hard and arching toward his stomach. Sam looked in his eyes, then down at his dick and slowly crawled down the bed, still a little shaky from the amazing hand job he’d just had. He’d started this because he wanted to thank Dean and now he was going to finish it.
He gently turned Dean onto his back and straddled his calves. Then he leaned forward with a wicked smile and licked up the underside of Dean’s cock. He heard rather than saw Dean’s head hit the pillow. Taking that as a very good sign, he did it again. This time, he was rewarded with a whispered “Sammy,” and Dean’s hands tightening in the sheets at his sides.
Without warning, Sam leaned forward and took as much of the other man’s cock into his mouth as he could, holding Dean’s hips down with both hands so he didn’t choke to death. Yeah, how would you explain that one to God? He wouldn’t let you into Heaven if the cause of your death was your brother thrusting up too hard.
Dean began whimpering above him and Sam smiled around the dick in his mouth. He started pulling back up, tongue working the vein on the underside of Dean’s cock like a lollipop. He wasted no time in pushing down again. He brought one hand up to counter the motions of his mouth, getting off Dean the best way he knew how.
Above him, Dean was whispering a litany of SammyohGodSammydothatagain. Then, he pulled on Sam’s hair, an indication that he was going to come and to get out of the danger zone. Sam just moved faster, harder, bringing his brother to the edge and over and swallowed everything that came out, the flavor of Dean exploding over his tongue and overloading his senses.
Dean’s now-flaccid dick came out of Sam’s mouth with a weird slurping noise and Dean laughed, pulling on his shoulders for him to move up. Sam obediently climbed up the bed and lay on his side, facing Dean. The brothers smiled at each other, both still breathing a little unsteadily.
“Thank you, Dean,” Sam said, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on the kiss-swollen lips in front of him.
Dean had his eyes closed and mumbled something incoherent that Sam didn’t really care to have him repeat. It was enough that he was there. He watched the older man start to fall asleep and wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like without him. Well, he knew what it would have been like before Jess died, but now that they had this whatever between them, he couldn’t imagine anything else.
He gently kissed his brother’s forehead and Dean’s eyes popped open. Sam was a little startled, and then extremely confused, as Dean moved off the bed and began rummaging in his duffel bag - still naked, mind. He let out a triumphant “Aha!” and padded back over to Sam with a small box, wrapped in green paper, clutched tightly in his hand.
“I almost forgot,” Dean explained. “I bought you this a while back. You were looking at them and I know yours accidentally got burned up in that grave, so…Here.”
Dean handed over the present and Sam sat up, leaning against the headboard, to open it. Inside was a brand-new, brown leather wallet. In fact, it was the one that he’d eyed in a shop in Santa Barbara back in February - that’s probably where Dean had been all day. He opened it up and there were two pictures in the photo insert. The first, at the front of the windows, was one of Jessica - and he didn’t even want to know where Dean had acquired it. The other was much more faded: a picture of Dad, Dean and Sam. He and Dean couldn’t have been more than 8 and 12 in the picture, but they all three looked so happy.
Sam turned to Dean and pulled him into a kiss, once again banging heads. Dean laughed and said, “Sammy. I realize that you’re used to splitting headaches by now, but I wouldn’t like to experience them on a regular basis.”
“Yeah, okay, jerk.”
Dean shrugged. “Bitch.”
A half hour later, lying tangled up in each other on the sex-free bed, Sam moved so that he could reach the bedside table without disturbing his slumbering brother and grabbed his new wallet. Relishing in the smell of leather that never failed to remind him of Dean, he flipped it open and switched the order of the pictures, making the Winchesters the first thing he would see.
He figured that maybe he shouldn’t look at birthdays as a bad thing anymore. They weren’t moving him away from normal - they were moving him towards something better, something real. They were pushing him closer to Dean. They were forcing him into Love.
And, really…who could ask for more than that?
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Alright, now click that little comment link! You know you want to!! *grin*
Author:
thelonejuliet
Characters: Sam, Dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 2,118
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The boys are not mine, sadly. Kripke's not accepting my offer of my soul. Avenue Q isn't mine either.
Warnings: Boy kissing, hand jobs, blow jobs...oh! and incest!
Spoilers: I don't think there are any....but be cautious!
Author's Note: Unbeta'd! All mistakes are mine and I apologize more than profusely! :)
Title is from the song, "The More You Ruv Someone," from the musical Avenue Q.
Written for Sammy's birthday! [Partly] at
wendy's request!
Summary: For Sam's 24th birthday, Dean gets him out of the house...er...motel room for a night of escape from their daily lives.
All fics found here.
And here's Dean's birthday fic from January: Waking Dreams, Remembered Wishes
When Sam woke up on the morning of his 24th birthday, he immediately regretted it. He hated birthdays - hated them. He had just never seen the point, especially since his birthdays as a child were never made into a big deal. Just another day. Now, it meant another day that he moved farther and farther away from the life he thought he wanted, another year past normal.
Groaning, he rolled over to snuggle farther into his brother, but was met by a cold spot. He shot up in bed, looking around, automatically assuming that something had happened to Dean. He didn’t see any signs of danger though, nothing out of place.
Except there was one thing out of place.
In the closet, a black garment bag was hanging, with a piece of paper stuck to it. Sam untangled his limbs from the sheet and padded over. He pulled off the piece of hotel stationary with Dean’s lazy scrawl on it.
Sammy, be ready by 6:00. Dean.
“The hell?” Sam asked the empty room.
Inside the bag was a black suit, his size. A quick glance at the clock told him that he still had 6 hours to sit around and figure out what Dean was up to. Not that it would help. Dean had obviously been planning something for quite a while and no amount of time would lead Sam to the right answer.
About 5 hours later, he found himself clicking around the internet, having given up on TV and reading and just about anything else there was to do. Every 5 minutes since noon, he’d glanced over at the suit, half expecting it to come alive and spill Dean’s whole evil plan. Yes, evil plan. It couldn’t be good if Dean was being all secretive. And, apparently, running around San Diego completely unchaperoned.
Half an hour later, after 30 minutes of blatant staring at the damn suit, Sam finally motivated himself to shower. If he was even a minute past 6, Dean would have his ass. And, not in the good way.
At 5:59, he was dressed and ready to go when Dean opened the motel door, dressed similarly in suit and tie. And he looked good. Dean smiled at his younger brother, completely unaware that Sam was as worried as a whore in church on Sunday. “Hey, Sammy. You ready to go?”
Sam hopped up eagerly from his spot at the old table. “Why am I dressed like this? I don’t like it when you scheme.”
Dean stepped up to him and reached up to pull his head down into a light kiss. “You’ll see.”
Not one to argue when blood was quickly moving south of his brain, Sam just nodded and followed Dean out to the Impala. After dinner at a surprisingly upscale restaurant that they probably couldn’t afford, Dean started to get visibly nervous. While it made Sam happy to see his brother nervous because of him, it made him nervous too. Just what did Dean have to be nervous about? Sam was already on the verge of jumping his bones just for the nice dinner.
Dean parked the car in a parking garage in San Diego and pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. He looked at the front, threw a sheepish grin at Sam and climbed out of the car without a word.
“Where are we going, Dean?” Sam asked, quickly falling stride with his brother as they emerged into downtown San Diego.
“Sammy, Sammy! Patience is a virtue, Brother Mine!” Dean answered with a smile.
“That’s not an answer, Dean and you can’t -”
Sam broke off his statement when Dean stopped moving in front of the San Diego Civic Theatre. He stood there motionless save for the fishlike-movement of his jaw. Dean laughed and grabbed his hand, “C’mon!”
And, so the Winchester brothers went to the theatre - actually went to the theatre - to see Avenue Q for Sam’s birthday. Sam knew that Dean probably wasn’t suffering as much as he kept grumbling about, considering the uproarious laughter coming out of the man - especially when the Japanese character, Christmas Eve, sang about two brothers on a date. But, it was still a sacrifice, being out like that, and Sam loved him all the more for it. Dean had done all of this, all of the planning, for him. Just to make him happy for a night.
Later, as Dean fumbled with the key to the motel room, Sam decided to prove just how much he appreciated everything. He pressed up against his brother and placed small kisses on the back of his neck, simultaneously reaching down to stroke his fingers lightly against the seam of his crotch. Dean groaned and Sam felt the simultaneous twitch of his brother’s dick.
Dean nearly dropped the keys at the stimulation, so Sam reached forward, deliberately digging his own erection into Dean’s back, and grabbed the keys. He had the door open, closed and his brother pressed against it in less than three seconds.
He aligned his body with Dean’s and pressed their lips together, tongue seeking entrance. Dean moaned and opened his mouth, his tongue sliding easily against Sam’s. He thrust his hips up, bringing both of their dicks together, and drew a deep moan out of Sam that vibrated both of them. And, for a few minutes, it was just that - kissing languidly, rubbing their erections together through layers of fabric, bringing them closer and closer to the edge with just that.
Dean was the one to pull away, panting, “Less clothes. Now.”
Sam nodded, breathing heavily back into Dean’s mouth. “I concur.”
The room became chaos as they both scrambled out of their suits. Why did a suit need so many damn pieces anyway? When it was finally done, all offenses out of the way, the brothers came back together simultaneously, collapsing onto the worn bed.
The first brush of skin on skin drew a loud gasp from both of them as they crashed their mouths together with a little too much force, bumping heads in the process. Dean started laughing, but Sam cut it short with a wiggle of his hips that brought his freed dick sliding against Dean’s.
Dean twisted them so that Sam was spread out beneath him and looked down with so much heat and love that it made Sam’s heart tighten. Rather than turn everything into a total chick flick moment that Dean would just chide him about later, he pushed himself up and whispered, “Fuck. Me.”
Dean paused, seeming to consider something and then shook his head. He didn’t say anything, just reached down to grasp Sam’s cock in a firm grip and give a slow tug. Sam’s head fell back on his shoulders and he moaned, deep in his chest. Dean smiled and leaned down to mouth and nip at his now-exposed neck, hard enough that Sam was sure he would have marks there tomorrow. Not that he cared, because - hello! - Dean was steadily jacking him off, drawing it out in sweet torture.
Sam was completely at Dean’s mercy, so hyped up on his love for Dean and overwhelming gratefulness for the night, that he could do little more than whimper or moan or pull the older man’s face to his with such force they had three repeats of the head-banging incident.
Too soon, Sam came with a groan, head lolling onto Dean’s shoulder, cum spurting out and coating his stomach and Dean’s hand. Dean gave his brother a sly grin as Sam’s orgasm faded before moving down and licking the white mess off his stomach. The younger man’s dick gave a feeble twitch at the sight.
With Sam clean, Dean moved up to lay beside him on the bed, cock still hard and arching toward his stomach. Sam looked in his eyes, then down at his dick and slowly crawled down the bed, still a little shaky from the amazing hand job he’d just had. He’d started this because he wanted to thank Dean and now he was going to finish it.
He gently turned Dean onto his back and straddled his calves. Then he leaned forward with a wicked smile and licked up the underside of Dean’s cock. He heard rather than saw Dean’s head hit the pillow. Taking that as a very good sign, he did it again. This time, he was rewarded with a whispered “Sammy,” and Dean’s hands tightening in the sheets at his sides.
Without warning, Sam leaned forward and took as much of the other man’s cock into his mouth as he could, holding Dean’s hips down with both hands so he didn’t choke to death. Yeah, how would you explain that one to God? He wouldn’t let you into Heaven if the cause of your death was your brother thrusting up too hard.
Dean began whimpering above him and Sam smiled around the dick in his mouth. He started pulling back up, tongue working the vein on the underside of Dean’s cock like a lollipop. He wasted no time in pushing down again. He brought one hand up to counter the motions of his mouth, getting off Dean the best way he knew how.
Above him, Dean was whispering a litany of SammyohGodSammydothatagain. Then, he pulled on Sam’s hair, an indication that he was going to come and to get out of the danger zone. Sam just moved faster, harder, bringing his brother to the edge and over and swallowed everything that came out, the flavor of Dean exploding over his tongue and overloading his senses.
Dean’s now-flaccid dick came out of Sam’s mouth with a weird slurping noise and Dean laughed, pulling on his shoulders for him to move up. Sam obediently climbed up the bed and lay on his side, facing Dean. The brothers smiled at each other, both still breathing a little unsteadily.
“Thank you, Dean,” Sam said, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on the kiss-swollen lips in front of him.
Dean had his eyes closed and mumbled something incoherent that Sam didn’t really care to have him repeat. It was enough that he was there. He watched the older man start to fall asleep and wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like without him. Well, he knew what it would have been like before Jess died, but now that they had this whatever between them, he couldn’t imagine anything else.
He gently kissed his brother’s forehead and Dean’s eyes popped open. Sam was a little startled, and then extremely confused, as Dean moved off the bed and began rummaging in his duffel bag - still naked, mind. He let out a triumphant “Aha!” and padded back over to Sam with a small box, wrapped in green paper, clutched tightly in his hand.
“I almost forgot,” Dean explained. “I bought you this a while back. You were looking at them and I know yours accidentally got burned up in that grave, so…Here.”
Dean handed over the present and Sam sat up, leaning against the headboard, to open it. Inside was a brand-new, brown leather wallet. In fact, it was the one that he’d eyed in a shop in Santa Barbara back in February - that’s probably where Dean had been all day. He opened it up and there were two pictures in the photo insert. The first, at the front of the windows, was one of Jessica - and he didn’t even want to know where Dean had acquired it. The other was much more faded: a picture of Dad, Dean and Sam. He and Dean couldn’t have been more than 8 and 12 in the picture, but they all three looked so happy.
Sam turned to Dean and pulled him into a kiss, once again banging heads. Dean laughed and said, “Sammy. I realize that you’re used to splitting headaches by now, but I wouldn’t like to experience them on a regular basis.”
“Yeah, okay, jerk.”
Dean shrugged. “Bitch.”
A half hour later, lying tangled up in each other on the sex-free bed, Sam moved so that he could reach the bedside table without disturbing his slumbering brother and grabbed his new wallet. Relishing in the smell of leather that never failed to remind him of Dean, he flipped it open and switched the order of the pictures, making the Winchesters the first thing he would see.
He figured that maybe he shouldn’t look at birthdays as a bad thing anymore. They weren’t moving him away from normal - they were moving him towards something better, something real. They were pushing him closer to Dean. They were forcing him into Love.
And, really…who could ask for more than that?
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Alright, now click that little comment link! You know you want to!! *grin*