Work Text:
Sam loves the new found relationship he and his brother have. Actually really happy that Dean had returned his feelings, and things escalated from then on. Although, a little too fast. Sam starts to notice that Dean turns into a teenager whenever they’re alone. Pouncing on him at every chance. He doesn’t mind, but it’s starting to affect his everyday. Anything he does sets his brother off.
Brushing Teeth:
Sam yawned as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for a new day. They had finished a case and decided to stay a few extra days, they were by the west coast anyways. He grabbed his toothbrush and put a drop of toothpaste on the bristles. Dean came in yawning too, standing there watching Sam’s arm muscles work as his arm moves the brush around in his mouth.
“Oh god.” Dean’s in awe. He felt his boxer briefs expand. He made his feet move closer to his not so little brother.
“Een, what you doing?” Sam asks as he pulls out the brush.
“Don’t worry about it.” Dean presses his front against Sam’s ass.
“Uhhm.” Dean’s hands grab the band of Sam’s boxers and follows them down till he’s on his knees and they’re at his ankles.
“Just keep brushing your teeth, Sammy.” His hands massaging the globes in his eyesight.
“Nngh, can’t when you’re on me.”
“Just do it, please.”
“Is this a new kink of yours?”
“Nope.” Dean spreads the cheeks and groans at the pink hole, still slightly used from the previous night. He looks up to see Sam lazily brushing his teeth, breathing quite rapidly, waiting for Dean to do something. Dean licks a stripe over his hole, and runs a finger over it, back and forth. He moves to look up at the mirror to see Sam, mouth open, eyes closed, toothbrush still gripped into Sam’s tight grip while the other hand is grasping the edge of the sink. Diving back in with his tongue, probing in and practically tongue fucking him. Sam’s moans were garbled from the brush as he continued his morning teeth cleaning. “God damn, Sam.” Dean hears Sam spit and rinse his mouth out, both hands now at the sink.
“Fuck Dean!” A finger had snaked its way in with his tongue. Searching for the one thing that makes his brother scream. Sam’s knees wobbled as Dean was relentlessly brushing over his prostate. Dean used his free hand to drag his briefs down to mid thigh, stroking himself to the sounds of Sam. “Dean- n-not gonn- fuck !” Dean pulled his mouth back, but the finger kept going at Sam, helping him through the aftershocks. As soon as the finger was removed, Sam turned around and saw that his brother had cum on the floor.
“That was so hot, Sammy.” Was all Dean said.
Researching:
Back at the bunker Sam was on his beloved laptop, he goes nowhere without it. Dean silently walked by the map table and saw him leaning on his left hand, back to him, laptop making a white glow around Sam. He adjusts in his chair and Dean can see the concentration lines on his forehead, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the table. When Sam covered his face with his hands, Dean took this as a perfect opportunity to silently make his way under the table, kneeling by the giant’s legs. He heard Sam sigh, his legs opening and stretching out. Luckily Dean wasn’t in the way, otherwise his plan would have failed.
He was under enough, away from Sam’s eyesight while he leaned back in his chair. Dean watched cautiously and waited patiently for Sam’s known long sigh and hands wiping his face. The more he kept his eye on his brother, the more he was turned on. His cock throbbing in the confines of his jeans. Like clockwork, Dean followed Sam’s chest as it filled with air. When his hands covered his face, Dean made his move. He shoved his face in Sam’s crotched which caused Sam to slam his knees into the table and scream in terror.
“Hey Sammy! Got a case for us?” He mumbles into the denim apex.
“Dean?! What the fuck?!” Sam pants. “You know my fist would have definitely pounded the top of your head!”
“Oh I know.” He doesn’t move away and drags his teeth back and forth over Sam’s crotch.
“What are you doing down there?” He swallows as his cock slowly fills.
“I thought it’d be pretty obvious.” Dean’s hands trailed up Sam’s thighs to undo his fly. “Waiting on you to find us a case.” He pulls out his cock through his underwear fly and open denim. Stroking the half mast as he stares at his brother. Feeling the soft, warm phallic, steadily growing in his hand. The closer he got to the tip, he gripped slightly tighter and loosened up towards the base, like he’s squeezing to get to the good stuff.
“I haven’t found anything y-yet.” Sam white knuckles the arms of the chair. Letting out sharp bursts of air through his nose, trying not to make any noises, even though they are the only ones in this bunker.
Dean shrugs, “Ah well, maybe this could buy us some time until then.” He strokes slower, making a whine escape Sam’s mouth. His cock fully erect and throbbing. Sam whines again, mostly for the sheer fact that Dean won’t move his hand any faster, and partly to feel Dean’s throat around his long cock. “What is it, Sammy? What do you want me to do?”
“You know what I want you to do!” Sam lands one of his hands behind Dean’s head and tightly grips whatever hair is there. He nods and licks his lips, leaning down tonguing at the slit. Pre-cum sweats out and Dean can’t get enough of the taste. He goes lower but Sam slams him down to his groin, the eldest gagging a bit from the abrupt thrust. Dean used this as the time to undo his own pants and get a hand on his thick dick. He’s feeling like he might be close, so he doesn’t get too into his own jerking and cum before the youngest. Sam places his hands on the side of Dean’s head and guides him, slowly at first, up and down the long thing intruding his ever watering mouth.
Both boys know that the best way to get Sam off hard and quick is facefucking. Dean doesn’t mind it, but Sam goes ballistic when the opportunity is given. The feeling of Dean’s mouth salivating and so open and willing for him to shove his cock into him. It makes him completely, if even more, hard hearing Dean gag and choke on him. The tears that leak down his face is a bonus.
“God, Dean! Your throat feels so good!” He groans and shoves Dean down faster. Dean moves his hand at the same pace and soon finds himself getting too close. He doesn’t care at this point. His fist pumping up and down his dick, moaning around the sensitive skin as he gets himself closer to the edge. “Oh fuck!” Sam slams Dean’s face so far into his groin that his nose bends, feels his throat constricting his member as he watches him suffocate. Sam was trying to hold out a little longer, but can’t muster up the strength and gives into the sensations. A warmth spreading from his lower belly, spreading down to his toes and up his spine. Moaning and shuddering as he shakes, cum shooting down Dean’s throat, string after string being pulled out from him.
Dean had cum already, wringing his dick for every drop when he feels Sam’s hands drop from his head. He pulls off with a large gasp, coughing to get air in his lungs. “Fuckin’ A man.”
Dishes:
Dean came walking into the kitchen, towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Body glistening from his fresh shower.
“I am still not over that shower man!” He chuckles and shakes his hand through his hair, mussing it up to spike it.
“I’m glad you’re finding enjoyment in personal hygiene.” Sam says setting a plate off to the side to get dried for later, moving onto a pan from breakfast.
“Hey! I shower enough through the week.” Dean defends himself.
“Once a week is not.” Sam retaliates. He continues doing the dishes without ever turning around to his brother.
“Sh-yah, whatever.” He crosses his arms in defeat. Leaning on his right foot and staring at the backside of Sam. He was still dressed in his pj’s, grey t-shirt fitting nicely on his muscular physique, tight and stretching over his broad shoulders, flaring a bit leading down his waist. If Sam worked out more, Dean’s pretty sure that the shirt would tear. He could only hope. “So, uh, Sammy. Why haven’t you uh- didn’t- come with me into the shower?” Dean stammers and clears his throat, noticeable tent forming within the towel.
“I wanted to get these dishes done so that they didn’t sit on the stove and table to harden and crust. It was easier to clean them right away versus later.” Sam grabs the drying towel, wiping his hands and starts drying the pan. “I’ll be showering when I finish.” Dean makes quick steps up behind Sam.
“Can I help?” Breath hot and voice low through a Fruit of the Loom cotton thread shoulder.
“You could hang this up for me.” Sam turns half his body to hand his brother the pan. Dean puts his hands on his brothers hips instead, fingers slipping past the waistband a tad. His cool, calloused fingers touching bare, hot skin, making Sam shiver at the temperature difference. Goosebumps appeared on his arms as the hands grew steadily lower, passing over his groin. Sam got out of the sensations to pay attention to the other things going on between them. He’s barely holding onto the pan anymore, fingertips slightly grasping it, any minute now it would hit the floor, and ruin the moment with an accursed loud bang. Sam brings up his hand and sets the pan on the still wet plates on the porcelain sink. “Maybe it’s you that needs the help big brother.” Dean drags the pants down past Sam’s ass to mid thigh.
“Just what I was thinking.” He hums behind his ear. The fluffy white towel drops to the floor while Dean’s dick smacks his stomach. Dean bites Sam’s ear as his hands fondle with his growing erection and balls. His dick slipping between Sam’s ass cheeks, and Dean couldn’t help but thrust up and down. Sam clenched his cheeks making it tighter around the cock teasing him.
Sam's mouth opened to casually let out a gasp but ended up whimpering. Cursing himself for the girlish noise that dared erupt from his throat. But damn, if Deans dick keeps dragging against his pulsing rim, he'll have no choice in the pitch of his pleasure.
The hands that were playing with him, left his cock while the fingers danced against his skin. Casually creating more goosebumps on the flesh.
“Dean, please.” A breathy moan slipping into the thick, sexually intensified air. It’s been five minutes and Dean already has his brother begging like the good puppy he is. Dean’s hands reach their destination to the pecs under Sam’s shirt. Swirling his fingertips lightly to raise the nipples, tweaking them when the buds grew under his touch. The slight pinch set Sam’s nerves on fire, going straight to his cock, which pulsed and a bit of pre-cum beaded out the slit. “.. fuck ..” Sam is gripping the edge of the porcelain so tight, that his knuckles almost match the white sink.
“C’mon Sammy wanna hear ya.” Dean whispered sweet sultry. “I know you love this.” Pinching the buds for emphasis. A small grunt vibrated throughout Sam’s chest. “Damn shirt’s’in ma way!” He pulls roughly at the hem, dragging the fabric, that was trapping the sensitive parts he was toying with, from his brother, tossing it to the floor. Licking his thumbs and pointer fingers, moistening the pads to push the pleasure further. Dean’s hips still rocking against Sam’s ass, cock trailing dryly over the pulsating muscle. Twisting his wrist ever so slightly, Sam let out a loud groan as the fingers squeezed the rosy buds, increasing the pressure, prolonging Sam’s chesty moan. His cock was leaking like a fountain at this point, drip after drip dropping down onto the gray concrete floor. Little puddles glistening in the warm light.
Dean leaves his left hand to toy and play with the nipple while his right hand went down to tease his blushed, hot cock. Tentatively dragging his fingertip, from head to base, groaning when Sam sucks in a breath. Those broad shoulders widening further as his lungs fill with air. Dean digs his thumbnail right under the bud, slowly at first, listening to the moan steadily growing out of Sam. When he knows the nail will leave a crescent moon indent, he leaves it there and wraps his other hand around Sam’s dick. Sam shouts as Dean strips his cock in a blur, wringing out the pre-cum pooling inside.
The pleasure building so fast as if he was a teenager again. “Dean, fuck !” The eldest moves his hips at the same pace as his hand. Feeling his own release creeping up on him. “I’m not- I don’t think I can hold off!” Sam moans and clenches his cheeks again. He feels Dean pinch his nipple tightly, like a clamp. What he didn’t expect, was for his brother to tug and pull on it while he twists it between the finger pads. “ Fuck!!” Sam unexpectedly, without any kind of warning, spills over Dean’s hand, shaking violently sandwiched between Dean and the sink. Dean bites down on Sam’s left shoulder, Sam whines when he feels the bite, the eldest grunting in his throat as he cums all over the youngests ass. Spurt after splashing onto the pasty globes, which drips to the waistband of the gray flannel pajama pants. Both are breathing heavily in their post, embarrassingly quick, orgasm afterglow, Dean hasn’t let go of any part of his brother. His left arm wrapped around his chest, and the other around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer. “Now I’ll definitely need a shower.” Sam chuckles.
Laundry:
The boys had gathered all of the laundry that needed to be washed from their respected hampers, Dean’s had been sitting in a pile on the floor of his room, soaking in previous hunts and body odor. Sam had managed to quickly dump them into the washing machine with the water running over them before they gassed out the joint. He didn’t have to put a clothespin over his nostrils, like they would in the cartoons.
Dean was off trying to flirt with some blonde folding her delicates on a counter. She seems interested though, smiling at his advancements, but Sam knows well enough that Dean won’t do much other than playfully flirt with her. Most of the people in this town only know them as brothers, never bothering with knowing their names or anything, so they can’t do stuff like that in public. Sam adds a generous amount of detergent and closes the lid, going to the machine next to it to add his clothes, separating his jeans into one, underwear and socks into the next, his flannels and t-shirts into another.
When he finished doing what he was, he sat down in a chair affixed to the wall with a table, loading up current world news to see if there is anything out there on his tablet. Reading over the third article and finding nothing out of the ordinary, Dean eventually made his way over to his brother, flashing a grin and a paper with numbers scrawled onto it. He sits in the opposite chair and stuffs the paper into his jacket pocket, watching Sam as he shakes his head with a small smile tugging at his lips. Dean turns back to the young woman, she’s grinning shyly as she carries her basket of laundry out of the building presumably to her car.
“You know, if I wasn’t addicted to your ass, I’d tap that like a keyboard that doesn’t work.” Dean wiggles his brows suggestively to Sam. “Looking at porn there?”
“Researching, you moron.” Placing his gaze back on the screen at his hands. Dean drums his fingers on the dingy, chipped surface of the wooden table, leaning back in the chair. He looks back to their machines to check the timers on them, he sighs when there was over twenty minutes for it to complete its cleaning cycle. Dean looks at Sam with softness to his green iris’, watching his brother do something that he knows he’s good at, makes his heart happy. Then he has the sudden urge to throw him off his tracks.
His right foot was resting flatly between Sam’s wide spread branch like legs, a smile creeping nonchalantly on his face, the youngest doesn’t notice due to the fact he’s too engrossed into an article. Dean lifts that foot, dragging it slowly up the inseam of the jeans his brother is wearing today. Sam jolts at the initial touch of a boot running up his calf, ignoring it, because he knows that Dean’s bored and needs attention or something.
“Dean, knock it off, this not the time nor the place.” He doesn’t meet his brother’s hungry gaze. He looks around, the place isn’t too busy, only a couple of people waiting for their clothes to dry 15 feet away, the chairs over there face the dryers and the washing machines block the view even if they did turn around. Dean keeps travelling his foot, even slower up the leg, making it to mid thigh when Sam sighs, shoving the foot away and closing his legs.
“C’mon.” His voice dropping ever so slightly.
“I said no.” Sam grits out quietly. Dean stops all together, sitting there bored out of his mind for another painful five minutes before sighing and standing.
“Going to the bar.” He doesn’t wait for a response from Sam, just walks out of the laundromat, to the nearest bar.
~~~
Sometime later he returns, slightly tipsy, trailing his glossy eyes around the room for Sam. In the span of time he spent at the bar, this laundromat filled up, and it was only six in the afternoon. Eventually he spotted the top of Sam’s mop at the very back, next to a vending machine. Smiling, he makes his way past all the other people, wrapping his arms quickly around Sam’s waist. He jumped and slammed his foot on the person directly behind him.
Dean swore a bit as the steel toes dug in a little, squeezing his toes. “The hell man?” He questioned his brother, stepping to his left a bit, his hands on his hips.
“You should know better than to do that.” Sam retorts folding a pair of Dean’s boxer briefs.
“Whatever.” Dean rests his cheek on Sam’s shoulder. He watches him fold more of the underwear for a few seconds before his hands trail on their own down the front of Sam’s pants.
“Dean.” Sam mumbles, dropping what he was folding next onto the counter. “Not here, wait until we get home.”
“But, Sammy, I can’t.” Dean’s left hand cupping the seemingly interested cock confined behind denim. He pops the button and pulls the zipper down.
“There are a bunch of people in here, no.” Dean steps more to the left, making sure that Sam was close enough to the vending machine so his right side was blocked from anyone, and standing tightly to his left.
“And you know how you feel about that.” Sam blushes hard, Dean never wanted to explore Sam’s exhibitionism kink, for the sheer fact that they could be caught. But with the alcohol coursing through him, his confidence and determination overrule his anxiety. Dean’s right hand snuck under the counter to reach inside and pull the half hard member out of the fly. “You might as well continue folding to make it seem like nothing is going on.” Dean murmurs in Sam’s ear, stroking the growing member to full hardness.
The knowledge of there being people in a public setting was making his head spin with lust. He chokes off a whimper as his hands begin to shake trying to fold a pair of socks. Trying to casually get back into the rhythm of doing his chores.
“Dean.” Sam gasps. The hand gripping tighter to the hot phallus, pulling on it much slower. He swipes his thumb gently over the slit, collecting the pre-cum sweating out, making the stroking a lot easier on the receiver. He felt Sam shudder beneath him, and picked up his speed. Gripping tighter and pulling faster, twisting his wrist when he reached the head. Dean’s arm was straining under the counter from keeping his body close to Sam’s.
“I can feel how turned on you are, Sammy.” Dean whispers despite the noise, don’t need anyone over hearing what is going on. “I know this gets your blood pumping, the people in this room have no idea what I’m doing to you. And you love that don’t you?”
“Yes.” Sam forces a whisper, biting back a whine. His thick cock throbbed in Dean’s palm, pushing out some more of the pearly white substance.
“You gonna fold that, ‘cause you’re wrinklin’ it.” Sam had twisted his fingers around one of Dean’s black t-shirts, stretching out the cotton that was just taken out of the dryer. He tries to flatten it out on the surface, but it’s hard for him to concentrate with Dean manhandling him. In the corner of Sam’s vision, a guy, maybe in his late thirties, came walking up to the vending machine next to him. Sam holds his breath, trying to not let the guy hear the noises he’s making. Dean grins as Sam’s heartbeat accelerated, and he could feel it through his cock. Sam has completely given up on folding at this point, his focus is on many things at once; his heart racing in the current situation, the hand flying over his hard as steel cock, and the burning need coiling below his navel. The guy got his prize and walked away from them. “C’mon Sammy. I can see your brain working too hard for something so simple. I thought all these people would have you melting on the floor by now.” Dean twists his wrist just right and Sam is closer to edge than before. Sam’s toes are curling in his boots, he’s so fucking close. His forehead was damp with sweat, his muscles in his biceps and his thighs were clenching uncontrollably. “If you cum, right now, on the grimey tile underneath, I’ll let you blow me in the car.” The eldest crooned his promise, smiling smugly to himself. “I’m sure all of these people will love the show we’ll give them.”
That was the last tie holding him together, for a moment Sam had forgotten they were not at home, and as Dean mentioned, people, he gritted his teeth and shook violently where he stood. Shooting rope after rope on the tile just where Dean wanted. His chest was heaving, mouth slightly parted to keep himself in the moment a little longer. Dean was slowly wringing him out, a small puddle splattering to the floor, Sam made a small noise in discomfort and he pulled his hand back.
Sam checked around before putting himself away, throwing all of the laundry into the baskets they brought with them. “Car, now!” Sam growled in Dean’s ear, dropping a basket in his arms.
Sleeping:
Blankets and sheets crinkling under the mass of the older brother tossing and turning. Either to find a comfortable spot or is unable to fall asleep. It seems like it’s the latter for the man.
Sighing as he sits up, rubbing his already dark circled eyes. He swings his legs off to the side of bed one by one. The cold concrete floor zinging up his bare feet, making him hiss. Slowly pulling himself to his feet and to his door. The hallway is lit up, a little too bright for his eyes that had adjusted to the darkness of his room.
He had felt alone sleeping in his room, he needed Sam next to him. They fought earlier that day, Dean knew better than to place the blame on his brother, it was technically his fault, but it was Sam’s idea. So they both went to bed mad at each other. Dean was feeling guilty, yes, and wanted to apologize, somehow.
He figured Sam would be tossing and turning with the turmoil running through him, but when he opened the bedroom door, he was greeted with a restless sight. Sam was as comfortable as could be, sleeping on his back, hands resting on his stomach, his shirt rucked up just a smidge showing a bit below the navel. The sounds of his soft snoring filling the empty space they occupy.
Dean should still be mad, but how could he be with Sam laying like that? All 6 feet 4 of him, knees bent due to his legs not being able to stretch out accordingly to the length of the bed. Dean tried not to stare for too long, he was tired and wanted to sleep.
He walked into the room and shut the door, climbing carefully into the bed next to Sam. Dean laid on his side and rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. A reflex reacted in the younger brother, wrapping his arms around the unknown being, pulling him in closer and Dean tangles their legs together with a smug little smile.
As he was lying there, his knee twitched against Sam’s crotch, unintentionally, Sam whined in his throat. Another smile tugging at his lips, if he was careful enough, who knows what might happen. This thought had occurred while he was standing in the doorway, and he wasn't sure if he would piss Sam off anymore if he did it. But, why not.
Gradually, Dean added pressure to still soft cock, moving his knee back and forth slowly, to not wake the giant. He can feel the dick hardening in the sweats, coming to life from slight pressure. Sam starts panting and moaning softly, his hand gripping onto Dean's shirt on the back. While Dean is rubbing through the pants, the Hem of the fabric moving along the shaft, making the head poke out.
“.. Dean ..” Sam sighed in his sleep. Panting harshly as the pleasure steadily builds, nothing to bring him over just yet. Dean turns his head so his mouth was next to his ear, breathing lightly over the skin.
“Fuck Sam, you have no idea how hot you look right now.” He softly says, Dean knew it worked, because Sam whined in his throat. “I could do this to you all day, play with you like this all the time.” With a free hand, Dean trails down to his own neglected cock behind his boxer briefs.
Sam’s brows were turned up and mouth slightly open to let out puffs of air. Dean sneaks his hand into his boxer briefs to rub his cock at the same pace his knee is rubbing on Sam. The eldest closes his eyes as he lets the surroundings around him take over. Moaning a little too loud in Sam’s ear.
“Dean?” Sam asked kind of groggily. He freezes all actions, staring up at his brother. Sam rubs a hand over his face and his eyes, looking down at, what looked like a deer caught in headlights. “What are you doing in here?” He grumbles.
“N-nothing.” Sam feels Dean’s knee over his crotch, mostly over his steel hard cock.
“You sure it was nothing?” His voice drops down another octave besides his sleepy just woke up bass. Sam’s left hand reaches across, dipping into Dean’s pants to find his hand still around his own cock. “I’m assuming we are no longer mad at each other.”
“No.” Dean pulls his hand back and Sam wraps his around his cock. “..fuck..”
“This what you wanted? Me to touch you?” Dean nods. “I heard every word you said earlier, and I can tell you, you look hot right now.” Sam wolfishly grins. His hands picking up speed, flicking his wrist when reaching the head. Dean peers at his brother through hooded lids, snaking his left hand into Sam’s sweats to stroke his cock. Both of them groaning and moaning with each stroke.
“M’so sorry Sammy.” Dean apologizes with a breathy sob.
“I know.” Sam growls, panting getting faster and moans getting louder. “Oh fuck!” Sam groans loud and spills over Dean’s hand. Watching his brother come undone caused a chain reaction, Dean came a second after Sam’s hand went limp on his cock.
They lay next to each other, breaths being caught and hands covered in cum. Instinctively, they both wipe their hands on either shirt. Chuckling at having the same thought. Dean curls closer to Sam and he in turn wraps his arms tightly around him.
“Night.” Dean whispers.
“Night.” Sam returns.