Fic: Nowheresville
Dec. 6th, 2020 02:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ellerkayTitle: Nowheresville
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: Explicit/NC-17
Genre: Slash
Word Count: 2600
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: Sam and Dean go undercover at a gay bar to investigate a series of disappearances. Dean thinks it's a great idea for them to pretend to be boyfriends. Sam disagrees.
Warnings/tags: Incest, first time, pining, fake relationship, frottage, hand jobs
A/N: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_j2_xmas for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nerdypastrychef!
Read on AO3
***
“Absolutely not,” Sam said, glaring at Dean and ignoring the tube of glitter Dean was holding out to him.
“Dude, we’ve gotta get in character. I’m not looking to get too crazy. Tank tops, tight jeans, throw on some of this crap and we’re good to go.”
“This whole idea is stupid,” Sam snapped. “Why can’t we just go in as the FBI? Or – I don’t know, maintenance men.”
“Yeah, because a bunch of gay guys out for a fun night definitely want to talk to feds or some plumbers,” Dean said. He tossed the glitter at Sam. Sam caught it reflexively.
“This isn’t going to work,” Sam said.
“Don’t worry,” Dean said soothingly. “I’ll protect your virtue, little bro. That’s why we’re going to pretend to be boyfriends.”
Despite his best efforts, Sam could feel his face heating up. He hoped desperately that Dean wouldn’t notice in the dimly lit motel room.
“That part’s stupid, too,” Sam muttered, but Dean was already halfway into the bathroom to change.
Sam stared at the closed door, trying to figure out how he was going to handle this night. It wasn’t actually that he thought the idea was stupid or wouldn’t work. It was that he had been in love with his brother since he was eleven years old. At least, that was how old he’d been when he realized it; Sam often thought that it had probably been even longer. Going away to Stanford hadn’t cured it. Meeting Jess hadn’t cured it, no matter how much Sam had cared for her. Being back on the road with Dean, living in each other’s pockets, sharing motel rooms and the front seat of the Impala and diner booths and the same air, was most definitely not curing it.
And now, Dean’s “brilliant” (according to Dean) plan was to go undercover at a gay bar, which sounded like the beginning of a bad porno. Several people had gone missing after being seen at the bar. Sam and Dean needed to blend in to investigate. Dean had also decided that they would pretend to be a couple, so no one would hit on them. Sam thought that Dean might not know a lot about gay culture. But mostly, he thought that he had no idea how he was going to handle fake dating the brother he’d been wanting to actually date for at least half his life.
He didn’t actually have a good reason to refuse, though. Mechanically, Sam put on his closest-fitting jeans, which weren’t actually that tight, and a white tank-top.
Sam felt strung-out and anxious the whole ride over, his leg jiggling without him being really aware of it. He was trying hard not to stare at Dean, who looked unfairly spectacular in a black tank-top, jeans – his were tight, which was not helping matters – and the silver glitter he’d dusted onto his arms.
The whole thing sort of made Sam wonder if Dean knew more about queer culture than he’d thought. And if so, why. Sam clenched a fist at the thought of Dean in a place like this for real. Bad enough to think of the women Dean spent nights with regularly. If he was interested in men, too, there was a part of Sam that wanted to think that maybe he had a shot after all. A part which Sam needed to shut up, right now.
“Sammy, relax,” Dean said as he pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. “It’s not going to be a big deal. They’re just regular guys.”
Sam had to bite back a laugh at the irony of this. For the first time, he wished he’d come out as bisexual to his brother. “I know. I’m fine.”
Dean raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment.
As they neared the bar, which was called Cock of the Walk, Dean slipped a casually possessive arm around Sam’s waist. Sam stumbled at the unexpected contact and Dean’s arm tightened around him momentarily. Sam felt like he’d forgotten how to breathe. Awkwardly, he slung his arm around Dean, resting his hand on Dean’s shoulder as lightly as he could manage.
It was a weekday night and only about half of the seats in the bar were filled. The place was a small-town dive but nicely decorated on a budget, with brightly painted walls and fairy lights. For a bar, it was pretty quiet; there was music, but it was low. The patrons could speak to each other at a normal volume. The atmosphere was relaxed. Sam wondered if it got crazier on weekends. He kind of liked the homey feeling it had right now.
Dean was relaxed, too, letting go of Sam as he sidled up to the bar and ordered beers for both of them. He struck up a conversation with the bartender, smooth as silk. Inside of a minute he’d turned the discussion to the recent disappearances.
“How have I never met you before?” asked a man leaning against the bar a few feet from where Sam was standing. Sam thought the man was in his late twenties. He was Black and he wore dark slacks, a cream-colored silk shirt, and makeup so good it looked professional.
“I know everyone in this town,” the man continued. “And I really know everyone in this town who’s gay.” He raised an eyebrow as he sipped his beverage – just water, Sam thought. “I’d remember two boys your height.”
Sam tried to smile. “We’re new around here,” he said. He jerked his head towards Dean. “He’s – my boyfriend.” It hurt to say the words.
The man’s eyebrow got even higher. “I’m Jeremy. And you’re lying.”
Dean had finished talking with the bartender just in time to hear the end of this exchange. He handed Sam a beer and wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist again. “I’m Dean, and no, he’s definitely not,” he said.
Sam felt like his heart was going to crack in half. If only it were true. But he had to hand it to his brother. Dean actually sounded annoyed.
“Then why does he look so uncomfortable?” Jeremy asked, eyes glued to Sam’s face.
Dean looked at him, too. Sam tried desperately to appear at ease, but he didn’t know how. He gulped some beer down before he realized that was probably just more incriminating.
“He’s not,” Dean said, his tone less convincing this time as actual concern crept in. “You’re okay, right, Sam?”
“Right,” Sam mumbled. He took another swig of his beer before he could stop himself.
“Right,” Jeremy echoed, dryly. The suggestion of a smirk appeared on his face. “Well, Sam and Dean, maybe you should kiss to prove it.” He sipped his water again.
“Okay, we don’t need to prove anything to you,” Dean said. He was starting to sound actually annoyed now. Sam began to worry about the chances of their investigation if they blew this.
“Of course not,” Jeremy said. The humor had drained from his expression. “I just think it’s strange that two very straight men have wandered into our bar, claiming to be boyfriends and asking questions about the people in our community.”
Sam’s heart froze. But Dean just chuckled, shaking his head.
“Man, I just wanted to make sure we weren’t gonna get jumped by some creep,” he said. He set down his beer. “But I get it. So if it makes you feel better – ”
Dean reached for Sam like it was the most natural thing in the world. He pulled Sam’s head down and pressed their lips together in a soft kiss as though it was something he’d done a million times.
Sam, caught completely off guard, lost control of himself entirely. Blindly, he put his beer down on the bar. Before Dean could pull away, Sam grabbed his face with both hands and deepened the kiss. He heard Dean’s breath catch as Sam opened his mouth. Miraculously, Dean’s mouth opened right with his, and Sam slid his tongue in.
Dean made a little noise against his lips and Sam abruptly came back to his senses. He pulled away, trying not to go so fast that it looked suspicious. Dean was staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. They were both breathing hard.
“Okay!” Jeremy said cheerfully. Sam and Dean’s heads whipped in his direction. He pushed off from the bar, grinning.
“I don’t know exactly what your deal is, but you’re definitely gay for each other,” Jeremy continued, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “So I guess you can hang out here tonight.” He winked at them and walked away, joining a couple other people at a table.
Dean’s hand closed around Sam’s wrist in a vise-like grip. He dragged Sam to the back of the bar and yanked him into one of the bathrooms, which, thankfully, was single-occupant.
Dean slammed the door shut. The click of the lock made Sam jump. His back to Sam, Dean put his hand on the door for a moment. Sam watched Dean’s tight shoulders rise and fall in a long breath. Sam’s heart was in his throat.
Finally, Dean turned around. “What the hell?” he demanded, his expression bewildered.
Sam sagged in on himself. He felt about six inches tall. “I don’t know,” he said miserably. “I’m sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to – ”
“No,” Dean said. In two steps he’d closed the gap between them. “I mean, why the hell did you never tell me you wanted this?”
He pulled Sam’s head down again, crashing their lips together. Sam sucked in a breath and kissed his brother back with everything he had. He grabbed Dean’s hips and pulled Dean tight against his body. He thought he might explode from joy at the feeling of Dean’s mouth on his, at Dean’s fingers in his hair. It went on and on, until Sam was rock hard and shuddering with need.
When they finally came up for air, Sam stared into Dean’s eyes. “I didn’t think – I never thought you’d – ” he stuttered.
“You’re an idiot,” Dean said affectionately. He pursed his lips. “Well, maybe we both are.” He turned towards the door. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Sam grabbed his arm. “Dean…” he said, not wanting to stop.
Dean looked back at him, smirking. “Sammy, we’re not gonna have our first time in a bar bathroom in Nowheresville, USA. Let’s go.”
“Because a motel room in Nowheresville, USA is so much better?” Sam grumbled, trailing Dean out of the bar. Dean only grinned.
***
Sam spent the car ride just as anxious as he’d been on the way to the bar, only in the complete opposite direction. He felt hot and like he was going to jump out of his skin. The only thing that kept him in check was Dean’s hand, warm and reassuring, resting on his knee whenever Dean didn’t have to shift gears.
Dean drove right past the motel. When Sam realized it and looked at Dean with raised eyebrows, Dean only gave him a smirking sidelong glance and winked. Sam’s heart raced.
Dean drove them to an abandoned rest stop just off the highway, closed for years by the look of it. It was deserted, but Dean still parked as far as he could from the road. In front of them was a meadow which probably would have been pretty in daylight, but now was little more than blackness.
Dean cut the motor. In the sudden silence and semi-darkness, Sam felt like they were the only people in the world.
“Dean – ” Sam said, but stopped. He had no idea what to say. His head was still spinning with the very idea that Dean wanted this, too.
Dean slid over to Sam and straddled his lap, moving carefully so as not to hit his head on the Impala’s low ceiling. Breathing hard, Sam scooted his hips forward and leaned back till he could rest his head on the seat. Dean’s hand came to cup Sam’s face. He stroked Sam’s cheekbone with his thumb. Sam swallowed, heart aching.
“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean murmured. “Is this why you left?”
“Not the only reason, but…a big one,” Sam admitted.
Dean leaned down. They kissed for long minutes, a slow exploration of lips and tongue and the scrape of teeth until Sam was grinding up against his brother and Dean was pushing right back into him. Sam finally got up the courage to slip his hands under Dean’s tank top and was rewarded with Dean’s sharp inhale when their skin made contact.
Their movements started to get more frantic. Dean pulled back and Sam couldn’t help chasing the kiss for a second before he remembered himself and let his head fall back again.
Dean’s hands worked at the fastenings of Sam’s jeans. Immediately, Sam went at Dean’s. After a slightly fumbling couple moments, they had each other’s cocks in their hands. Sam’s back arched at Dean’s touch, gasping at a swipe of Dean’s thumb across the head.
“I wanna suck you, Dean,” Sam said, wondering at the fact that he could speak those words aloud.
Dean swallowed audibly. Sam felt Dean’s length twitch in his hand, but Dean was shaking his head.
“Another time,” he said. He grabbed Sam’s wrist and pulled his hand away. Sam felt a flash of fear before he realized that Dean was lining up their cocks, enveloping them both in his hand.
“You gotta come with me,” Dean continued. Sam could hear the strain in his voice, the barely controlled desire. He was as keyed up as Sam was. Sam found himself nodding frantically.
“Kay,” he said. He pulled Dean into another kiss as Dean started to work their cocks together. Feeling Dean against him like that was almost more than Sam could stand.
He tried to keep still, but as Dean went faster, Sam’s hips kept jerking of their own volition. Finally, he found himself hanging on to Dean’s shoulders for dear life, mouthing at Dean’s neck, saying Dean’s name over and over against his skin.
“Fuck,” Dean gasped, “come for me, Sammy.”
The words were like an incantation. Sam gave a wordless cry and tipped over the edge, sure he’d never come so hard in his life. Dean swore again and groaned. Sam could feel Dean’s cock pulsing against his. He dragged Dean into another kiss. Even too sensitive after his orgasm, Sam found himself wishing Dean would never release his grip.
Dean did, though, after a few moments. Sam held Dean in place for a little while longer with one hand firmly on the back of Dean’s neck and one arm tight around Dean’s waist, kissing him and kissing him.
Eventually, Dean pulled away, laughing softly. He pulled tissues out of the glove box and they both got cleaned up as best they could. Dean, being Dean, insisted on checking the Impala’s vinyl seats for spillage.
Dean turned on the radio as they pulled out of the rest stop and sang along with it in a quiet, happy voice. Sam was silent, trying to take it all in, so full of joy he thought he might burst. He’d thought it might be awkward after, but somehow, it was still just him and Dean. Dean’s hand was on his knee again. This time, Sam covered it with his own.
“Gotta go back to that bar tomorrow night,” Dean said suddenly. “We got nowhere with the case.” He glanced at Sam with a mischievous smile. “Think they’ll buy us as a couple this time?”
Sam laughed, louder than the situation warranted, his overwhelming relief and happiness finding release in the sound.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think they might.”
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: Explicit/NC-17
Genre: Slash
Word Count: 2600
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Summary: Sam and Dean go undercover at a gay bar to investigate a series of disappearances. Dean thinks it's a great idea for them to pretend to be boyfriends. Sam disagrees.
Warnings/tags: Incest, first time, pining, fake relationship, frottage, hand jobs
A/N: Written for the
spn_j2_xmas for nerdypastrychef!Read on AO3
***
“Absolutely not,” Sam said, glaring at Dean and ignoring the tube of glitter Dean was holding out to him.
“Dude, we’ve gotta get in character. I’m not looking to get too crazy. Tank tops, tight jeans, throw on some of this crap and we’re good to go.”
“This whole idea is stupid,” Sam snapped. “Why can’t we just go in as the FBI? Or – I don’t know, maintenance men.”
“Yeah, because a bunch of gay guys out for a fun night definitely want to talk to feds or some plumbers,” Dean said. He tossed the glitter at Sam. Sam caught it reflexively.
“This isn’t going to work,” Sam said.
“Don’t worry,” Dean said soothingly. “I’ll protect your virtue, little bro. That’s why we’re going to pretend to be boyfriends.”
Despite his best efforts, Sam could feel his face heating up. He hoped desperately that Dean wouldn’t notice in the dimly lit motel room.
“That part’s stupid, too,” Sam muttered, but Dean was already halfway into the bathroom to change.
Sam stared at the closed door, trying to figure out how he was going to handle this night. It wasn’t actually that he thought the idea was stupid or wouldn’t work. It was that he had been in love with his brother since he was eleven years old. At least, that was how old he’d been when he realized it; Sam often thought that it had probably been even longer. Going away to Stanford hadn’t cured it. Meeting Jess hadn’t cured it, no matter how much Sam had cared for her. Being back on the road with Dean, living in each other’s pockets, sharing motel rooms and the front seat of the Impala and diner booths and the same air, was most definitely not curing it.
And now, Dean’s “brilliant” (according to Dean) plan was to go undercover at a gay bar, which sounded like the beginning of a bad porno. Several people had gone missing after being seen at the bar. Sam and Dean needed to blend in to investigate. Dean had also decided that they would pretend to be a couple, so no one would hit on them. Sam thought that Dean might not know a lot about gay culture. But mostly, he thought that he had no idea how he was going to handle fake dating the brother he’d been wanting to actually date for at least half his life.
He didn’t actually have a good reason to refuse, though. Mechanically, Sam put on his closest-fitting jeans, which weren’t actually that tight, and a white tank-top.
Sam felt strung-out and anxious the whole ride over, his leg jiggling without him being really aware of it. He was trying hard not to stare at Dean, who looked unfairly spectacular in a black tank-top, jeans – his were tight, which was not helping matters – and the silver glitter he’d dusted onto his arms.
The whole thing sort of made Sam wonder if Dean knew more about queer culture than he’d thought. And if so, why. Sam clenched a fist at the thought of Dean in a place like this for real. Bad enough to think of the women Dean spent nights with regularly. If he was interested in men, too, there was a part of Sam that wanted to think that maybe he had a shot after all. A part which Sam needed to shut up, right now.
“Sammy, relax,” Dean said as he pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. “It’s not going to be a big deal. They’re just regular guys.”
Sam had to bite back a laugh at the irony of this. For the first time, he wished he’d come out as bisexual to his brother. “I know. I’m fine.”
Dean raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment.
As they neared the bar, which was called Cock of the Walk, Dean slipped a casually possessive arm around Sam’s waist. Sam stumbled at the unexpected contact and Dean’s arm tightened around him momentarily. Sam felt like he’d forgotten how to breathe. Awkwardly, he slung his arm around Dean, resting his hand on Dean’s shoulder as lightly as he could manage.
It was a weekday night and only about half of the seats in the bar were filled. The place was a small-town dive but nicely decorated on a budget, with brightly painted walls and fairy lights. For a bar, it was pretty quiet; there was music, but it was low. The patrons could speak to each other at a normal volume. The atmosphere was relaxed. Sam wondered if it got crazier on weekends. He kind of liked the homey feeling it had right now.
Dean was relaxed, too, letting go of Sam as he sidled up to the bar and ordered beers for both of them. He struck up a conversation with the bartender, smooth as silk. Inside of a minute he’d turned the discussion to the recent disappearances.
“How have I never met you before?” asked a man leaning against the bar a few feet from where Sam was standing. Sam thought the man was in his late twenties. He was Black and he wore dark slacks, a cream-colored silk shirt, and makeup so good it looked professional.
“I know everyone in this town,” the man continued. “And I really know everyone in this town who’s gay.” He raised an eyebrow as he sipped his beverage – just water, Sam thought. “I’d remember two boys your height.”
Sam tried to smile. “We’re new around here,” he said. He jerked his head towards Dean. “He’s – my boyfriend.” It hurt to say the words.
The man’s eyebrow got even higher. “I’m Jeremy. And you’re lying.”
Dean had finished talking with the bartender just in time to hear the end of this exchange. He handed Sam a beer and wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist again. “I’m Dean, and no, he’s definitely not,” he said.
Sam felt like his heart was going to crack in half. If only it were true. But he had to hand it to his brother. Dean actually sounded annoyed.
“Then why does he look so uncomfortable?” Jeremy asked, eyes glued to Sam’s face.
Dean looked at him, too. Sam tried desperately to appear at ease, but he didn’t know how. He gulped some beer down before he realized that was probably just more incriminating.
“He’s not,” Dean said, his tone less convincing this time as actual concern crept in. “You’re okay, right, Sam?”
“Right,” Sam mumbled. He took another swig of his beer before he could stop himself.
“Right,” Jeremy echoed, dryly. The suggestion of a smirk appeared on his face. “Well, Sam and Dean, maybe you should kiss to prove it.” He sipped his water again.
“Okay, we don’t need to prove anything to you,” Dean said. He was starting to sound actually annoyed now. Sam began to worry about the chances of their investigation if they blew this.
“Of course not,” Jeremy said. The humor had drained from his expression. “I just think it’s strange that two very straight men have wandered into our bar, claiming to be boyfriends and asking questions about the people in our community.”
Sam’s heart froze. But Dean just chuckled, shaking his head.
“Man, I just wanted to make sure we weren’t gonna get jumped by some creep,” he said. He set down his beer. “But I get it. So if it makes you feel better – ”
Dean reached for Sam like it was the most natural thing in the world. He pulled Sam’s head down and pressed their lips together in a soft kiss as though it was something he’d done a million times.
Sam, caught completely off guard, lost control of himself entirely. Blindly, he put his beer down on the bar. Before Dean could pull away, Sam grabbed his face with both hands and deepened the kiss. He heard Dean’s breath catch as Sam opened his mouth. Miraculously, Dean’s mouth opened right with his, and Sam slid his tongue in.
Dean made a little noise against his lips and Sam abruptly came back to his senses. He pulled away, trying not to go so fast that it looked suspicious. Dean was staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. They were both breathing hard.
“Okay!” Jeremy said cheerfully. Sam and Dean’s heads whipped in his direction. He pushed off from the bar, grinning.
“I don’t know exactly what your deal is, but you’re definitely gay for each other,” Jeremy continued, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “So I guess you can hang out here tonight.” He winked at them and walked away, joining a couple other people at a table.
Dean’s hand closed around Sam’s wrist in a vise-like grip. He dragged Sam to the back of the bar and yanked him into one of the bathrooms, which, thankfully, was single-occupant.
Dean slammed the door shut. The click of the lock made Sam jump. His back to Sam, Dean put his hand on the door for a moment. Sam watched Dean’s tight shoulders rise and fall in a long breath. Sam’s heart was in his throat.
Finally, Dean turned around. “What the hell?” he demanded, his expression bewildered.
Sam sagged in on himself. He felt about six inches tall. “I don’t know,” he said miserably. “I’m sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to – ”
“No,” Dean said. In two steps he’d closed the gap between them. “I mean, why the hell did you never tell me you wanted this?”
He pulled Sam’s head down again, crashing their lips together. Sam sucked in a breath and kissed his brother back with everything he had. He grabbed Dean’s hips and pulled Dean tight against his body. He thought he might explode from joy at the feeling of Dean’s mouth on his, at Dean’s fingers in his hair. It went on and on, until Sam was rock hard and shuddering with need.
When they finally came up for air, Sam stared into Dean’s eyes. “I didn’t think – I never thought you’d – ” he stuttered.
“You’re an idiot,” Dean said affectionately. He pursed his lips. “Well, maybe we both are.” He turned towards the door. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Sam grabbed his arm. “Dean…” he said, not wanting to stop.
Dean looked back at him, smirking. “Sammy, we’re not gonna have our first time in a bar bathroom in Nowheresville, USA. Let’s go.”
“Because a motel room in Nowheresville, USA is so much better?” Sam grumbled, trailing Dean out of the bar. Dean only grinned.
***
Sam spent the car ride just as anxious as he’d been on the way to the bar, only in the complete opposite direction. He felt hot and like he was going to jump out of his skin. The only thing that kept him in check was Dean’s hand, warm and reassuring, resting on his knee whenever Dean didn’t have to shift gears.
Dean drove right past the motel. When Sam realized it and looked at Dean with raised eyebrows, Dean only gave him a smirking sidelong glance and winked. Sam’s heart raced.
Dean drove them to an abandoned rest stop just off the highway, closed for years by the look of it. It was deserted, but Dean still parked as far as he could from the road. In front of them was a meadow which probably would have been pretty in daylight, but now was little more than blackness.
Dean cut the motor. In the sudden silence and semi-darkness, Sam felt like they were the only people in the world.
“Dean – ” Sam said, but stopped. He had no idea what to say. His head was still spinning with the very idea that Dean wanted this, too.
Dean slid over to Sam and straddled his lap, moving carefully so as not to hit his head on the Impala’s low ceiling. Breathing hard, Sam scooted his hips forward and leaned back till he could rest his head on the seat. Dean’s hand came to cup Sam’s face. He stroked Sam’s cheekbone with his thumb. Sam swallowed, heart aching.
“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean murmured. “Is this why you left?”
“Not the only reason, but…a big one,” Sam admitted.
Dean leaned down. They kissed for long minutes, a slow exploration of lips and tongue and the scrape of teeth until Sam was grinding up against his brother and Dean was pushing right back into him. Sam finally got up the courage to slip his hands under Dean’s tank top and was rewarded with Dean’s sharp inhale when their skin made contact.
Their movements started to get more frantic. Dean pulled back and Sam couldn’t help chasing the kiss for a second before he remembered himself and let his head fall back again.
Dean’s hands worked at the fastenings of Sam’s jeans. Immediately, Sam went at Dean’s. After a slightly fumbling couple moments, they had each other’s cocks in their hands. Sam’s back arched at Dean’s touch, gasping at a swipe of Dean’s thumb across the head.
“I wanna suck you, Dean,” Sam said, wondering at the fact that he could speak those words aloud.
Dean swallowed audibly. Sam felt Dean’s length twitch in his hand, but Dean was shaking his head.
“Another time,” he said. He grabbed Sam’s wrist and pulled his hand away. Sam felt a flash of fear before he realized that Dean was lining up their cocks, enveloping them both in his hand.
“You gotta come with me,” Dean continued. Sam could hear the strain in his voice, the barely controlled desire. He was as keyed up as Sam was. Sam found himself nodding frantically.
“Kay,” he said. He pulled Dean into another kiss as Dean started to work their cocks together. Feeling Dean against him like that was almost more than Sam could stand.
He tried to keep still, but as Dean went faster, Sam’s hips kept jerking of their own volition. Finally, he found himself hanging on to Dean’s shoulders for dear life, mouthing at Dean’s neck, saying Dean’s name over and over against his skin.
“Fuck,” Dean gasped, “come for me, Sammy.”
The words were like an incantation. Sam gave a wordless cry and tipped over the edge, sure he’d never come so hard in his life. Dean swore again and groaned. Sam could feel Dean’s cock pulsing against his. He dragged Dean into another kiss. Even too sensitive after his orgasm, Sam found himself wishing Dean would never release his grip.
Dean did, though, after a few moments. Sam held Dean in place for a little while longer with one hand firmly on the back of Dean’s neck and one arm tight around Dean’s waist, kissing him and kissing him.
Eventually, Dean pulled away, laughing softly. He pulled tissues out of the glove box and they both got cleaned up as best they could. Dean, being Dean, insisted on checking the Impala’s vinyl seats for spillage.
Dean turned on the radio as they pulled out of the rest stop and sang along with it in a quiet, happy voice. Sam was silent, trying to take it all in, so full of joy he thought he might burst. He’d thought it might be awkward after, but somehow, it was still just him and Dean. Dean’s hand was on his knee again. This time, Sam covered it with his own.
“Gotta go back to that bar tomorrow night,” Dean said suddenly. “We got nowhere with the case.” He glanced at Sam with a mischievous smile. “Think they’ll buy us as a couple this time?”
Sam laughed, louder than the situation warranted, his overwhelming relief and happiness finding release in the sound.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think they might.”
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Date: 2020-12-12 10:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-12-12 11:09 pm (UTC)P.S. Love your icon!
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