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Sam felt himself getting pushed into the back of the car, he laid there, head thrown back and too tiered to look up. Until he noticed who pushed him. Sam wasn't sure how he got in this situation, there were small holes on his memory. Like being at the bar, then a girl? No, a drink. Was he drunk? He felt drunk. Sam's mind Was flowing with possibilities of what could've lead him to this situation. He wouldn't drink that much, he was aware he was a blackout drunk so why drink all that? He's never been more confused. What brought him back to reality Was once again realizing his brother just pushed him to the back of the impala.
Dean had a grin on his face, that annoying dirty smirk he always did only left Sam even more lost, and embarrassed as he realized what was happening. "Come on, it'll be just like the old times" dean got inside the car.
Old times? What old times? Oh. Those.
What could've possibly happened in the past two hours that led to this moment. Once again, Sam brushed his thoughts aside and looked at Dean in the eye. The only thing he saw was lust and desire shining through that green tone.
"Don't you remember?" Dean started, and oh Sam recognized that slurred, rough speech. Dean was also drunk, but he knew Dean well enough to realize he was fully conscious of what he was doing, not one bit of regret or uncertainty behind that tone. "Summer 97'?"
Dean was now completely on top of him, and Sam wasn't so sure how he'd get away from this situation. Dean groaned softly as he felt Sam squirming beneath him, his hands holding on to the younger brothers torso and waist to keep him in place. He could feel Sam's confusion, and he chuckled softly, finding it sort of cute, the way Sam was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. His head was spinning slightly as the alcohol still circulated in his system.
"Just stay still.." He slurred, his lips pressed just under Sam's jaw, still grinning while he kissed, licked, bit, sucked on- god what was Dean doing?
while Dean was having the time of his life, sam tried to keep his vision still, not closing his eyes so he wouldn't blackout. He shivered as he felt Dean's breath on his skin, his mind fuzzy with alcohol. He couldn't quite remember how he'd gotten here, but he sure was aware of Dean's strong grip on his waist and the heat of his body that somehow, was always warm.
"Why are we.." Sam slurred quietly. "Dean..? What the.." Sam tired to move, he really did, but the hold Dean had on his hips was stronger than anything he'd ever seen. Sam just knew he was gonna have trouble explaining the bruises to Jessica, she always worried too much.
Dean couldn't help but notice how vulnerable Sam looked, his eyes hazy and body pliant beneath him. It brought out the protective streak in him, but also a darker side of him that he usually kept buried. He spent 4 years without seeing Sam and suddenly he felt like he had to make up for all the lonely nights he spent when he ditched him for Stanford. And by lonely nights, it meant getting laid by a girl at a bar. But Dean still felt lonely, because it wasn't Sam who he was fucking.
The alcohol had lowered his inhibitions, making his desires more clear, and all he wanted in that moment was to claim his younger brother. In that moment he wanted him, craved him even, in ways he never would have admitted to if he was sober.
Sam's body involuntarily arched up against Dean as he felt the older boys gaze on him, his head swimming from the alcohol. It felt so wrong, but right at the same time, and he couldn't help but want more, even though he knew he shouldn't.
"Dean.." he breathed out softly, his hands coming up to rest on Dean's shoulders, not sure if he wanted to push him away or pull him closer. So he pulled away. Sam knew it wouldn't make a slight difference, Dean was stronger, not bigger, but right now, Sam felt smaller than him. He still tried getting Dean off him, he couldn't just give in, could he?
Dean's eyes darkened as he felt Sam's body arch beneath him, his hands moving up to grip his hips, fingers sinking into the younger's still clothed hips.
"Yeah, Sammy?" He whispered, his voice low and rough, as he leaned down to nuzzle his face into the crook of Sam's neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of his brother, his nose grazing against his skin. "You got something to say?"
"Uhm.. I..."
Dean smirked "that What I thought"
"You have any idea how long I've wanted this?" He murmured, his breath hot against Sam's skin. "How many times I've had to stop myself from taking what I want?" His hands gripped Sam's hips tightly, his grip almost possessive. Aside from being a drunk, Dean wasn't a liar. And he was fully aware and conscious of what he was doing.
"Until I couldn't anymore..." Every word he spoke was punctuated by gentle, teasing nips to Sam's neck. "And you just gave in.." His lips and teeth trailing up and down the sensitive skin.
"You remember it, don't you?" He did.
Dean let out a slurred chuckle and kept breathing down and kissing Sam's neck, he just couldn't get tiered of it. "July 1997... dad left on a hunt." Dean's mouth curved into a smirk against Sam's skin as he felt his body reacting beneath him. He knew that deep down, Sam wanted this just as much as he did, all he had to do was break down the walls Sam was trying so desperately to keep up. "We had so much fun huh.."
Sam still protested weakly "Dean we can't—"
"Oh, but we can," he growled softly, his mouth moving back up to Sam's ear. "And you want to, don't you? You want this, you want me." His hands moved to grip Sam's thighs, holding him tight against his body "just like you wanted me eight years ago.."
Sam's breath hitched as he felt Dean's hands on his skin, and he couldn't deny the wave of desire that washed over him. He knew it was wrong, knew that they shouldn't be doing this, but in that moment, he couldn't care less. He wanted Dean, craved him in a way that he never had before, but he would never admit it.
"Dean stop..." he whispered, his words contradicted by his body's response to Dean's touch.
"Oh shut up will you?"
So Sam did, he didn't dare speak another word.
Dean's eyes darkened with hunger as he heard the mix of words and body language. He could tell Sam's mind knew better, but his body was telling something else entirely. He continued his path of kisses down Sam's neck, biting just enough to mark.
"Maybe you're right, this is wrong." He murmured, biting down a little harder in one specific spot. "But right now, I don't give a damn."
Dean took a deep breath, his hands moving to his belt buckle as he listened to his dark and twisted desires. He was drunk, and Sam was there, vulnerable and wanting, or so he thought. Dean was going to give in to what he really wanted.
With a firm yet gentle grip, Dean's hands moved to Sam's belt buckle, his eyes never leaving Sam's as he fumbled to undo the belt. The sound of the belt buckle undoing was loud in the otherwise quiet interior of the impala, and the noise made Sam's eyes flutter shut, knowing what was coming.
Sam wasn't sure he could form a thought on whether he wanted it or not, maybe it was because of the alcohol, how it distorted his thoughts, his mind was flowing thoughts he'd never have while sober, maybe Sam wanted this. It's not like he didn't want it eight years ago.
"Dean..." Sam's breath hitched as he felt Dean's hands unbuttoning his jeans, his body reacting to the anticipation. When the cool air hit his exposed skin, he shuddered, his eyes still closed. "Please..."
Not sure if was begging for mercy or for Dean to stop. But At Sam's pleading words, whatever the meaning behind them was, Dean couldn't help but let out a soft exhale and bit his lip. He still breathed down on Sam's neck. "Please what, Sammy?" He murmured.
"I want you Dean.." he almost couldn't believe himself. "Please..." The vulnerability in Sam's voice sent a rush of want through Dean's body. He took a moment to collect himself, lifting up his head, his eyes now fixed on Sam's, and on his freckles, god he loved Sam's freckles, kind of a shame they disappeared throughout the years, some were still visible though. The atmosphere in the car suddenly feels charged with longing. "I don't want you to want me,"
"I want you to need me."
"Please- Dean..." Sam was getting impatient, and the alcohol made it worse. He felt so damn desperate for something so sick as getting laid by his own brother. Sam felt dirty, and he hated it. But fuck, he needed it. He felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he pled and whined for Dean, alcohol always made him more sensitive. "I need you.."
Dean flipped him over and pressed his body against Sam from behind, his movements growing rougher and more desperate. He could feel his own need for Sam growing, his thoughts consumed by the desperate words and sounds coming from Sam. The guilt that normally would have followed a request like this was pushed to the back of his mind.
His voice was gruff, barely a strangled whisper. "Look at yourself." He grabbed Sam's hair, guiding his face back to look at the windshield on the front of.the car, It was dark enough the glass reflected the interior of the vehicle. He held him there, pressed against him, wanting Sam to look at his own reflection. "Slut." Dean muttered quietly, still loud enough for Sam to hear and whine almost inaudibly, of course Sam liked it.
The next thing Sam remembered was getting his pants and underwear lowered by Dean, his vision was still blurry and he felt like he was gonna pass out or throw up at any moment but if there was one thing he was sure of, he wanted Dean to fuck the shit out of him. And the way things were flowing, Sammy was gonna get what he wanted, and Dean Always made sure of that.
Sam's reflection stared back at him, flushed and panting. Dean pressed closer against him, his body flush against Sam's back. He could feel the heat radiating off Sam, the way he trembled against him. "Do you see yourself?" Dean said, his voice gravelly. "Fucking whore..." he slapped Sam's ass
Sam flinched but arched his back. Maybe he was a slut. And the way he almost moaned when he felt Dean garb his wrists above his head. Whore.
Dean's chest was rising faster, his breathing labored as he watched Sam in the reflection. He pressed his body tightly against Sam, wanting to feel every inch of him. One hand came up to tangle in Sam's hair, while the other settled above him, holding his wrists together. "You look so good like this, Sammy," Dean murmured, voice rough with desire. He tied Sammy's hands together above his head with his belt, then moving his now free hand on to Sam's hip his fingers brushing over his skin before gripping it tight. "So damn good."
Sam gave a little gasp as Dean's words set his skin on fire. He felt Dean's tip pressed against his entrance making the nerves in his body twitch in anticipation. His thighs were trembling with the effort of holding himself together and his breath hitched. "Dean, please..."
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this, do you?" Dean whispered roughly in Sam's ear "ever since that summer... I couldn't stop thinking about it.."
"How you looked..." Dean ran a hand over Sam's hair, caressing and petting it. "How you moved..."
he pressed his lips to Sam's neck "I can't tell you how many times I've thought about this." He nicked at the skin of his neck. "How many times I've touched myself to the thought of you.." he murmured, teeth dragging down his skin.
His hand on Sam's hip moved down, teasingly slow. "Thought about how you'd sound," Dean said huskily "how you'd feel..."
"Dean.." Sam Whimpered, the sound came muffled since he still had his head pressed against the car, but all Dean heard was desire. Dean spat on his hand and brought it to his cock, giving it a couple strokes as he watched Sammy shift desperately in his position. He groaned at the sound of his name on Sam's lips. It sent a jolt through him, straight to his core. The way Sam said it, so needy, desperate, it drove Dean wild.
"Yeah, say my name again," Dean murmured as leaned over sam, against his back, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin. "Want to hear you say it."
Sam breathed down heavy as his head rested on his arms, as soon as he heard deans request he didn't hesitate. But as Sam said out loud half his name Dean slammed his hips into Sam's. His legs shook, his back arched and his shoulders tended. God he could cum only from this, both of them could, actually. Dean got a good grip on Sammy's hips, his thumbs brushing against his lower back. And Sam tried not to scream, biting down on his lip until he felt a blood-like taste in his mouth. He suddenly felt even less conscious about his surroundings
"That's it, Sammy" Dean's voice was rough, barely a growl as he leaned in. His breath was heavy in Sam's ear, his chest rising with each panted breath. "Let me hear you"
Sam's face flushed with a mix of arousal and exertion. His voice was unsteady when he spoke, almost needy in a way he wasn't used to, "Yes... Please, Dean... Please.."
His body trembled slightly as he felt Dean lean over him even more, Sam felt him go deeper and oh god, Dean's definitely gotten bigger.
then suddenly, he remembered.
Sam remembered eight years ago, they were at some cheap motel and for the first time, Dean fucked him. He remembered every little detail. how Dean moved and the things he whispered in his ear, how Dean moaned when he pushed in for the first time and when he came. Sam remembered how he cried when Dean put it all in, tears were rolling down his cheeks as Dean thrusted into him. he remembered how good it felt, how it hurt but still felt so damn good.
He certainly wouldn't have thought Eight years later they'd be doing it all over again.
Dean groaned once more at the sound of Sam's begging, the way he pleaded with him. He could see the desperation in Sam's moans, in the flushed skin and the way he trembled under him. "you Like this? huh?" He murmured, voice thick with desire. "you slut." It's a strong word but Sam really is a slut. How he arched his back and his legs trembled even the slightest when Dean went deeper. How he begged for more, knowing it would hurt, knowing his limits but still pushed further. How he moaned desperately for Dean, they were always so soft and quiet. maybe Sam was just drunk, maybe he wasnt thinking straight, but this was probabily the best night he's ever had.
Sam gasped at the name, his body involuntarily jolting in response. This was not something he had ever expected himself to be into. Normally, he would be more or less offended by the degrading term, but in this moment, he was too far gone and wasted to care. He pushed his hips back into Dean, almost in a silent plea for more. The need was getting to him, almost like a fever that only got hotter the longer it went on.
Sam couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips at Dean's words, the sound muffled as he pressed his face against his arms once more. He wasn't used to being so... needy, So vulnerable. But something about the way Dean spoke to him, the way he touched him, it just brought out a side of Sam that he didn't know existed. So he just nodded in response, too far gone to form a coherent response. He just wanted, no, needed, Dean to fucking him harder than he already was.
Sam had to bite back his moans, he didn't want Dean to think he was enjoying it way too much, Until it drew blood. Dean chuckled, he could see the effect the word had on Sam, the way his body responded. He could feel Sam pushing back against him, wanting more, and the sound he let out was music to his ears.
"Yeah, that's right" he murmured, voice low and gritty. "You're enjoying this just as much as I am, huh?" Dean leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of Sam's ear.
"You like being a filthy little whore for me?"
Sam felt a mix of desperation and neediness wash over him as Dean continued his ministrations. He was uncharacteristically vulnerable, something that was completely foreign to him. Never before had he felt this way about anyone, this desperate for someone to touch him. He shuddered with anticipation as Dean's words struck a nerve, each filthy word sending a mix of shame and desire coursing through him. Sam was never one to plead, but in this moment he couldn't help but whimper, "Please, please."
Dean could see the effect his words were having on Sam, the way his body trembled and the way he whimpered, begging for him. It was a side of Sammy he'd never seen before, and it drove him wild.
But as much as he enjoyed teasing Sam, he wanted to see just how far he could take him, how desperate he could make him, slowing his movements, deliberately teasing Sam. "God..." He murmured, his grip firm on Sam's hips. "You feel so good Sammy... so fuckin' good.." Dean's voice was soft and shaky, his breathing heavy as he slowed down his movements. His grip on Sam's hips switched from firm to soft, tho the need to feel him, to touch him, was almost overwhelming.
Dean could barely form a thought, he was only acting on pure instinct and desire. He groaned softly, the sound getting stuck in his throat. "Can't get enough of you," he murmured, almost absently. "Never want to stop touching you..." his mind slightly clouded by the lingering effects of the alcohol. But even in his semi-drunken state, he was aware of everything around him. every gasp, every tremor in Sam's body. He watched as Sam responded to his touch, the way he pushed back against him, desperate for more. Dean's fingers dug into Sam's hips, holding him in place, occasionally massaging his lower back
"You like that?" He murmured, his lips hovering near Sam's ear. "Bet you fuckin' do.."
His movements were slow and deliberate, teasing. He wanted to drive Sam to the brink, to hear those sweet, needy moans escape his lips again. Each passing moment was torture, to hold back and draw this out, but he knew it would be worth it. Dean could feel the heat radiating off Sam's body, hear the ragged sounds of his breathing. He leaned in, his chest pressed against Sam's back once more, the need to be close almost overwhelming him.
Sam whimpered in response, again, unable to find his voice at the moment. The intensity was almost unbearable, the silence between them filled only with their ragged breathing and the occasional soft gasp.
Dean shifted his position slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. He knew he was hitting the right spot when he heard Sam let out a strangled cry, his shoulders tensing. "There we go..." he murmured, a hint of satisfaction in his voice and his grin. "Found it."
He leaned down, his chest presses against Sam's back again, his breath warm against his neck "you want more, don't you?" he asked huskily, his grip on Sam's hips shifting to lift him slightly, changing the angle just enough to get deeper. Sam gasped, his body shaking as he nodded again, unable to form coherent words.
"Say it," Dean murmured, his lips dragging up to Sam's ear. "Tell me what you want."
Sam gasped in response to the new angle, unable to form coherent thoughts let alone words. With every change in position, he found himself sinking deeper and deeper into the pool of need and desire that was consuming him. He could feel Dean's breath on his neck, the words sending a shiver down his spine. All that escaped from Sam's lips was a moan, a needy, guttural sound that was both a plea and an admission of helplessness, of wanting something only Dean could give him. It was animalistic, raw. And Dean loved it.
Dean's voice was rougher, gravelly when he spoke. He could see how Sam was responding to his words, how his body was trembling and arching with every movement. He leaned in closer, his chest pressed tightly against Sam's back. His lips brushed against the crook of Sam's neck, before he spoke again.
"You sound so pretty when you moan." He murmured against his skin, the words sending a shiver up sam's spine. "Like a pretty little girl, huh?" And Sam did moan like a little girl, those girly, high-pitched, sweet sounds from his mouth were enough for Dean to know exactly what Sam wanted.
Dean didn't feel guilty at the moment.. Maybe he'll feel it sober, who knows. But right now, he just held Sam, he almost couldn't care about anything else except for his younger brother and how soft and pliant he was in his arms. It was the first time in years that Sam was this vulnerable, he felt exhausted and overwhelmed, still catching his breath and his mind was scrambled.
"Jesus...." Was all he managed to utter, his voice hoarse and shaky. He felt vulnerable, exposed, but also strangely content. He felt his eyelids heavy and shifted his position the slightest bit so he could sleep, Dean got off him and pulled his underwear and jeans up.
Dean stayed there for a few minutes, just staring at Sam's sleeping figure. He knew they had just done something they shouldn't have, but at that moment, it didn't matter. He pushed aside the guilt and instead reached out, gently running his fingers through Sam's hair.
Despite everything, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.