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They were meant as a joke. Really. Sam had been acting especially pissy lately and Dean wanted to get him back for it. And so what if he wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of Sam wearing a red lacy thong. That had nothing to do with this.
That’s what Dean keeps telling himself as he drives back to the motel, staring down at the small (pink. God.) bag resting next to him on the front seat of the Impala. This could go horribly wrong. Whatever, the bitchy look on Sam’s face would totally be worth it.
Dean walks into their run-down motel room to find Sam sitting behind his laptop, ancient books and research notes strewn out all over the small kitchen table in front of him. He spares Dean a glance, then shoots him a questioning look when he notices the pink plastic bag his brother is holding. “What’s that?” he asks. Dean just grins at him before tossing the bag onto the table, Sam’s notes scattering everywhere.
“Got you a present. Thought getting laid might help with your shitty mood.”
Sam shoots him a classic bitch-face, knowing nothing good ever comes of Dean’s presents, before reaching for the bag. He shoves his hand in it, while still casting Dean a wary look, and his fingers close around soft material before pulling out the red thong.
Sam just stares at the scrap of lace in his hand with a dumbfounded expression, before shooting his brother a death-glare and pelting him with the carrots he’d previously been munching on. Dean ducks out the door just in time to avoid being blinded by a vegetable, laughing his stupid head off.
Asshole.
Sam’s still pissed, but if he’s being honest, Dean’s probably right. He needs to get off and it’s not his fault if the stupid thong he’s still holding is kind of turning him on. Oh, fuck it. Dean probably spent some well-earned money from hustling some poor bastard at pool (or a scammed credit card, God knows.) and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.
Sam gets up from the chair, figuring Dean won’t be back for a while and he might as well make the most of the time he’s got. They’ve been living in each other’s pockets for the last couple weeks, which may or may not be the reason behind his crabby mood. You try keeping your incestuous crush on your brother top-secret when the guy barely ever leaves your side.
He tosses the panties on the bed farthest from the door and shucks out of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, before pulling on the lacy underwear. They feel soft and they’re definitely too small, pulling tight over his half-hard dick and the back of the thong riding between his ass-cheeks, but it’s not uncomfortable. And honestly? He kinda likes it.
A lot. Maybe this wasn’t such a horrible idea after all.
Sam climbs onto the bed and sits up against the headboard, eyes shutting as his hands begin to wander. He teases himself a bit, pinching his nipples and rubbing himself to hardness, over the stupid panties. He tries to keep the thought of green eyes and freckles out of his mind, but really, who the fuck is he kidding.
He reaches into the panties with one hand to cup his balls, while still rubbing himself with the other, and lets out a low moan. He then ventures further down, teasing his hole with two fingers, and fuck, where’s the lube?
After retrieving the lube from the nightstand between their two beds (really, Dean?) and almost falling off the bed for his troubles, Sam returns to his position on the bed. He slicks his fingers up and reaches back down, pulling the thong aside with one hand and slowly teasing a finger in with the other. He slides in to the second knuckle and lets out a gasp, then adds a second finger. He presses further, working himself open with two fingers and letting out soft moans and whines, completely losing himself in it.
That’s the moment Dean chooses to walk back into the room, dropping the salad he’d brought back as an apology, because, fuck, his brain just short-circuited with the image in front of him. Sam is splayed out on one of the beds wearing nothing but the damn panties, riding his own hand while his dick is dripping precome onto his stomach and he’s moaning Dean’s name. Dean gets a little dizzy with how quickly the blood rushes from his brain to his dick at that.
“Fuck, Sammy.”
He’s surprised at how breathless and husky his own voice sounds. And at how tight his pants are, all of a sudden. Sam’s head snaps around and, shit, he was way too caught up in jacking off to even notice Dean was in the room until now. Dad would beat his ass for being so careless.
Sam tries not to think of his father, considering the position he’s currently in, and focuses instead on the fact that Dean doesn’t look at all angry after finding out that his nerdy younger brother likes to think of him when he’s jerking it. He looks stunned more than anything else, and also kind of like he wants to fuck Sam stupid. Which, you know, Sam really wouldn’t object to.
Though he doubts anything will happen if they just keep staring at each other like two idiots, which is what they’re currently doing. Sam tries to string together a coherent sentence, but the only word that comes out of his mouth is “Dean.”
“Look so fucking pretty, baby boy.” Dean says as he finally walks over to the bed, and Sam lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, relief flooding over him because Dean definitely doesn’t look like he’s gonna punch him in the face. He does, however, look like he’s gonna help him get off, which Sam is incredibly grateful for.
Dean kicks off his boots and climbs onto the bed, settling himself over Sam. He brushes his fingers softly over Sam’s lips before asking “Can I?” and all Sam can do is nod dumbly. They kiss, and at first it’s soft and uncertain, but it grows hotter and more passionate as they start to get lost in each other. Then Dean moves lower, kissing Sam’s jaw, biting and licking his way down Sam’s neck. He buries a hand in his brother’s long hair, and lets the one trail down Sam’s chest before cupping his dick over the panties.
Sam groans as his brother begins stroking him and kissing down his chest. Then all of a sudden, Dean is breathing warm air over his dick, pulling him out of the underwear before sealing his mouth over the head. Sam gasps and bucks up, and Dean drapes an arm over his hips to keep him still. Dean licks down the shaft, then takes as much of Sam into his mouth as he can, the head of Sam’s dick nudging the back of his throat. Sam’s just fucking gone, mumbling incoherent words and panting and moaning. He knows he won’t last long, was already close to coming before his brother came in and gave him the best blowjob of his life. He tugs on Dean’s hair to warn him, but Dean just keeps sucking and licking until Sam’s shooting down his throat with a cry.
Dean pulls off his dick and rests his head on his brother’s thigh, panting.
“Fuck, Sam.”
“You’re telling me.” mumbles Sam.
Dean chuckles, then slides back up Sam’s body and kisses him gently. Sam’s slowly coming down from his high, and that’s when he notices his brother is still fully clothed, which really can’t be all that comfortable. He pulls away from the kiss and looks up into Dean’s eyes.
“Want you to fuck me, Dean.”
Dean grunts and drops his head to Sam’s shoulder. “Can’t say things like that, baby boy. Fuck.”
“Want you to.” Sam insists, then reaches down to pull off Dean’s jeans. Dean kicks off his pants and boxers, then peels out of his shirts before flipping them over so Sam is sitting across his thighs. Dean looks up at him and asks “You sure about this, Sam?”
Sam just leans down and kisses him, hard, then whispers “Yes.” over his brother’s lips. Sam’s still loose from his orgasm and fingering himself open, so Dean just pulls aside the panties before pushing in all the way, both of them gasping and panting. He gives Sam a few moments to adjust before pulling back a few inches and pushing back in slowly, doing his best not to just pound into Sam’s hot, tight ass. Sam can see his brother is holding back and lets out a frustrated whine. When that doesn’t get Dean moving any faster, Sam just plants his hands on his brother’s chest and lifts himself up before slamming back down, pulling out a low moan from Dean. Now they’re getting somewhere.
Sam keeps riding his brother, both of them panting and moaning, and then Dean grips on to Sam’s hips, leaving bruises on his hipbones as he fucks up into his brother. “Just like that, baby boy.” he lets out between pants. Sam leans back down to kiss and nip at his jaw, grunting and whispering filth in his brother’s ear, and then Dean’s coming inside of him, moaning Sam’s name. Once Dean comes down from his orgasm, he looks down at the soiled panties still covering Sam’s cock.
“Guess we’ll have to buy another pair.”
Sam huffs out a laugh and flops down next to his brother, feeling thoroughly fucked. “Definitely.” They fall asleep soon after, wrapped up in each other with smiles plastered across their faces.