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Sam Winchester was in the shower of the dingy motel, smirking him to himself as he felt the water get cooler, knowing it would mean Dean would be either missing out on a shower, or showering cold. He tipped his head back and rinsed the suds of shampoo from his hair. Blinking the water off his eyelashes, he stepped out and grabbed his towel, wrapping it loosely around his narrow hips.
From the other room he could hear the sound of the TV, but nothing from Dean. He left the bathroom in a puff of steam, and stopped still at what he saw. Dean was standing at the foot of their, well the only, bed...and an unconscious Bela Talbot in a tartan dressing gown.
"Dean? Why is Bela unconscious on our bed?" he asked hesitantly.
Dean turned, taking in the view of his brother, all damp and warm. "She just busted down the door and collapsed."
"Likely story," Sam muttered. He was well aware of Dean's need for physical closeness, but, nevertheless, even Sam couldn't imagine his brother knocking Bella out and bringing her to their motel room. "Why is she wearing Sherlock Holmes' robe?"
Sam bent down to grab his duffle. Dean was distracted by the sight of Sam's glorious body, all the hard muscles etched under the soft, smooth skin. "Dean?"
Dean looked up from his hands. "Honestly, Sam I don't know what happened. I was getting ready to go out and get food, and she just busted the down open and collapsed at my feet. I was waiting for you to finish in the shower so I could borrow your phone."
"Here," Sam said, withdrawing his phone from the pocket of the balled up jeans in his hands. Dean walked closer to take it. "Wait."
"What, Sam? C'mon. This is serious."
"Dean. Shower first. Call later."
"Are you serious? There are more important things-"
"You reek of blood and sweat. Go and clean up before I go insane...again," Sam growled. He didn't bother adding that simply the smell and look of his brother, so rugged and primal after a hunt, made him want to tear the clothes off his back and roll around in his scent like a dog. Or... Y'know other things like a dog.
Dean looked at his brother, with glare #67 fixed on his face. He grabbed his duffle bag from where it was on the floor. He stalked toward the bathroom, with a "You better not have used all the hot water!" before kicking the door shut behind him.
Sam smirked and turned back to the unconscious Bela, recalling all the times she'd fucked them over...though that terminology always brought him inevitably back to Dean. He shook his head and focused back on the comatose female. He touched a finger to her neck - yep, still alive. Now what?
"SAM!" Dean yelled.
"Crap."
Dean came stalking out the bathroom, towel wrapping haphazardly around his waist, giving Sam plenty skin to ogle. He could see the, probably freezing cold, water dripping down Dean's legs and chest. He wanted to lick it off. "You used all the damn water!" Dean snapped, dragging Sam back to reality.
Sam found himself quite unable to reply. Dean lunged forward, dripping his brother's shoulders roughly and shaking him. At that moment it was inexpressibly difficult for Dean not to complete the very natural action of sliding his fingers down that smooth, beautiful chest before him. Sam was more concerned with the way Dean's towel had begun to slip from the sudden movement (well, perhaps concerned wasn't the right word, fixated was more appropriate). "Dean." "Sam. What the hell is the matter?" Dean asked, his hands still resting on Sam's chest. He could feel Sam's heart beating into the palm of his right hand. Suddenly, Sam crumpled. Dean managed to catch him before he hit the dirty carpet of the motel. He could feel Sam's naked chest pressed against his own. The urge to press his baby brother into the carpet and do naughty things to him had never been stronger.
Sam came around in a flutter of long eyelashes (eyelashes Dean had watched for hours while Sam slept, but that was a whole different matter altogether), and a short sharp inhale. He sat up in Dean's arms, the towel having slipped so now it was merely thrown across his lap. Sam's pupils were dilated, his lips were parted and he appeared to be focused intently on Dean being pressed so close against him. His heart thundered under Dean's chest, and Dean knew something wasn't quite right with his brother. "Sammy, what the hell? You just passed out on me." Well, actually Dean was the one on Sam, looming over him like the over-protective brother he was. Sam shifted in Dean's arms, somehow managing to subtly shift closer to his brother. "It's Sam." he practically growled, getting right up in Dean's face. He was close enough to kiss, Dean thought. He couldn't help himself. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Sam's. He hadn't expected Sam to grunt something, ("finally.") and pull his brother down on top of him, aligning their bodies perfectly.
Dean wanted to ask something, perhaps attempt posing a coherent question, but with Sam's lips and body against his he was finding it awful hard to do anything but respond carnally and immediately. And his happiness with the situation was fast becoming obvious - especially as he could feel it pressing against Sam's stomach through the towel. Dean gripped Sam's towel, pulling it tighter around him, before untucking it, hesitantly, asking for permission.
He wasn't prepared for Sam to slap his hands away, and pull the towel away himself. Dean wasn't sure what to do when he had a lapful of 6' 4" naked Sasquatch. Sam was just as happy as he was, and that was very happy indeed. He pulled Sam down so he could crush his mouth against his own, biting softly at his lip. Sam responded eagerly, throwing himself into the kiss so enthusiastically Dean was pushed backward, his legs bent beneath him at an uncomfortable angle.
"Bed?" Dean growled. Sam grunted his agreement and began manhandling his brother towards the bed. Both their towels lay forgotten on the floor.
"Bela," Dean muttered, his eyes falling upon the girl splayed across their bed. "Sam-" His words were cut off by a brief fierce kiss. Sam pulled away, apparently annoyed at having to waste his time sorting Bela out. He picked her up around the sides and dropped her unceremoniously on the floor beside the bed. She didn't wake up, much to Dean's relief. And then he got further relief as Sam dragged him onto the bed, kneeling over him. They melded together, Dean drinking down Sam's sudden passion with thirsty lips and an eager exploratory tongue. Dean reached up and tangled his hands in Sam's ridiculous hair, twining the cool, damp strands around his fingers. He tugged Sam down on top of him, relishing the feel of his brother pressed against every inch him, skin on skin. After giving Dean a quick kiss, Sam sat up, shaking his hair out of his eyes; his eyes, full of feverish, predatory lust. Dean nearly came just from that. His baby brother, naked, pinning him to the bed and looking down at him like food. Sam sat back, resting himself lightly on Dean's body, just brushing all the right places but never enough to provide any relief to his aching body. "God, Dean. I-" Sam began.
"I know, Sammy... I know." Dean smiled up at his brother, eager for what was to come.
Sam wanted to mark this monumental moment with some statement, some expressions of his feelings. He wanted to tell Dean about all the times he'd imagined this moment, all the ways he wanted them to love each other, some passionate and brutal, some gentle and lingering. But that was too much for the time being, he settled for kissing his way down Dean's jaw, brushing their lips together and whispering, "I love you," against his mouth. It sounded like a low heavenly promise to Dean's ears, and almost too much for him to bear. He could resist no longer.
Dean drew him down, hands sliding over his shoulders, gripping his sides and slipping ever lower to caress his strong, delicious hipbones. Well. He didn't know how they tasted - though he'd certainly imagined it enough times - but it was on his to-do-list. As well as several other carnal affairs he had to look into. He held Sam to him and rolled over, pinning Sam to the bed, before sliding down his body, with little kitten-laps, nips and kisses on every inch of skin on the way. He found Sam's nipples, little hard nubs on the smooth planes of his chest. Toying one with his teeth, Dean drew moans and gasps from the man beneath him before moving to the other. When he had Sam writhing in frustration, Dean continued his journey down Sam's body. He dipped his tongue into Sam's belly button making Sam to giggle, his laughter causing his body to ripple. Dean slid his hands over the defined abs, not able to get enough of Sammy. Enough of his little brother.
Dean gripped Sam by the back of his legs, pulling him closer, then he leant down, sucking and licking at Sam's hipbones, which turned out to indeed be as utterly delicious as his imagination had portrayed. His fingers lightly traced that faint trail of hair down his lower stomach, making Sam move beneath him.
"Do you want me to...?" Dean trailed off, licking his lips and looking up the line of his brother's long beautiful body with pure lust in his eyes.
Sam could barely murmur an affirmative.
Dean took hold of Sam, his grip cautious yet firm. He hadn't done this since his brief stint with a boy called Jack in high school. It had been two weeks of jerking each other off and blowjobs in the janitor's closet. Dean took a deep breath to steady himself beneath bending and taking as much of Sam he could into his mouth. Sam bucked his hips up, causing Dean to choke. Dean pulled away, gasping for breath.
"Jesus, Sammy. I need to breathe, ya know." Dean said, accusingly. Sam just pushed his body up, silently begging for Dean to continue. Dean placed his hands on Sam's razor-sharp hip bones, holding him to the bed, before leaning down and licking up the length of the hard member in his grip. By the sound of Sam's guttural groans he was doing something right. So he continued as he way, licking up and down the shaft until he was pleasantly hot and hard. Sam was panting, his fingers gripping tightly into Dean's hair.
"Please, please, please," Sam began to moan, and Dean never imagined he would hear such needy sounds from his independent younger brother's lips. He moved over and took Sam's throbbing cock into his mouth, he worked him with his lips and tongue and teeth until he could tell he on the edge of losing it. Dean pulled back, licking away the saliva he'd left trailing over Sam. "Dean. Please. Don't leave me like this..." Sam moaned at his brother. Dean crawled up the bed, 'til he was hovering over Sam. He grinned down at his brother. "I'm not gonna leave you with blue balls, Sammy... I just want to have some fun before you blow your load." He sat on Sam's lap, surreptitiously rocking his hips to make himself comfortable, teasing Sam's already aching body. "Now, where shall we begin?" Dean asked, earning a muffled groan in response.
"Right here," Sam said, they kissed and he could taste himself in Dean's mouth. But that wasn't what he wanted. He flipped them before Dean could tense and lay flat against him, their matching erections pressed between them. Sam wanted to flip Dean onto his back and take him as if they were horny animals, but he had to restrained himself. No doubt Dean's body wouldn't be ready for him yet. He'd have to do something about that.
"Do you have any lube?" Sam asked, his voice gruff.
Dean looked at him, as if to say 'Bitch, are you serious?'. "It's in my bag. Pink tube."
Sam didn't even bother getting of the bed, he just reached out with one of those impossibly long arms and rummaged through Dean's duffle, where it was, open, on the floor next the bed. He pulled the lube out from the bundle of jeans and t-shirts with a soft, triumphant "Ah-ha."
He wasted no time in flipping the cap and pouring some of the cool, slippery liquid onto his fingers. Some of the lube dripped down onto Dean's chest, causing him to gasp. Sam bent and licked it off, the plastic, and apparently strawberry taste exploding on his tongue. Dean and strawberries were a good mix he thought.
He reached down and coated himself in lube, a sight that made Dean practically salivate. "Roll over," Sam growled, his voice sending shivers through Dean, who immediately complied. Sam kissed his way down his brother's spine, luxuriating in the delicious taste of Dean's skin. Sam smiled as his slick fingers trailed the curve of his older brother's amazing body. Dean was practically whimpering in his desperation for Sam to finish what he'd started. Sam moved his hands lower, teasing Dean. He dipped his fingers into the cleft between Dean's perfect ass cheeks, tracing his fingertip around the edge of Dean's opening. Dean shivered under Sam's ministrations. Sam waited.
"Jesus, Sammy. Hurry the fuck up. You're not gonna hurt me." Dean muttered, into his arms, that his head was pillowed on. Sam pushed his long finger into Dean's body, slowly. Just the tip to start with, until Dean began pushing back onto him, urging him to go faster. Sam smiled.
"So impatient, Dean..." he said. He pushed the tip of the next finger alongside the one already encased in the slick heat of Dean. Dean could feel the stretch, the burn. He could hardly think of a sensation comparable to it, perhaps the taste of perfectly cooked pie...no, not even. But he quickly realized that just fingers wouldn't be enough to satiate his quickly growing appetite for his brother's body.
"More," he growled, half-pleading, half-ordering. Sam made no comment as he answered the demand. He slipped in the next finger entirely, thrusting it in and out of Dean's hot trembling body, and then a third shortly after. Dean was making like panting moans that turned Sam on to no end; he could hold himself back no longer. He poised his incredibly hot hard member at his brother's entrance, struggling to restrain himself at least a little, he promised himself he would take it slowly. He most certainly would not rut against his brother like an impassioned bull in mating season. Dean grunted and pushed back, forcing Sam into him. "Dean!" Sam's voice was strained. He was struggling not to thrust in and out of his brother so hard Dean got friction-burn on his knees. He pulled out slowly, so just the tip of him remained inside. He waited as long as he could before pushing back in causing both men to moan in pleasure. One more thrust and that was it. Sam lost it. He took hold of Dean's hips, hard enough to bruise, and began pounding into him with little restraint. Somehow he was unerringly able to hit Dean's prostate without even trying. Maybe because he was very proportional, if you know what I mean.
It was becoming increasingly hard for either of them to focus on anything other than the feel of their bodies together. Sam was thrusting as deep as he could, until their bodies were flush against each other. Dean was grinding back forcing them together deeply and quickly. But they were coming undone, they were on the edge of letting go completely.
"Sammy," Dean moaned, his voice heated and low. "Dean..." Sam gasped, as he reached around and took Dean's unattended boner in his hand, jerking him off as they came together. They rolled onto their sides, getting their breath back, both sticky with lube and come. It took a few minutes for them to get back to themselves, Sam shifted away, pulling out of Dean while a little sigh. He went to stand up and froze, Dean sat up when he noticed the sudden stiffening of Sam's back.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Bela," Sam said, turning to face his brother with a worried, embarrassed expression.
"Fuck. Bela."