Chapter Text
"Dean? Can you hear me?" You're trying to video chat with the brothers, but there seems to be some trouble on their end. Sam's laptop had been destroyed on a hunt, and he had temporarily replaced it with a tablet.
"God damnit, I can't hear her," Dean shouts, "Sam! Sammy? Where the fu–"
His curse trails off as he marches across the motel room to pound on the bathroom door.
"Damnit, Sammy," he roars. "Get in here and help me with this fucking thing."
"Jeeze, Dean. Give a guy time to finish taking a leak and get his pants up," Sam complains.
"Save it, Sammy. I can't get this tablet thing to work right. Shag ass, bitch," Dean gripes.
Sam gives Dean a shove from behind accompanied by a muttered curse. Dean doesn't go down, but he does miss a step. He rounds on Sam, slapping the taller man's cheek.
Sam gives him a withering bitchface and shrieks, "What the fuck, Dean?"
"Stop being a bitch, Sasquatch, and fix this fucking thing."
Sam tries to push Dean again, and Dean feints left and sinks his right fist into Sam's ribs. Dean goes for a cross to Sam's jaw, but Sam ducks below the blow, planting his shoulder in Dean's stomach. He flexes his thighs and Dean goes down in an awkward heap.
You sigh and rest your head in your hands. You're not looking at the screen, but you can still hear sounds of a scuffle. After a moment you contemplate shutting down the chat and letting those exasperating Winchesters call you back when they were done bickering.
However, soon the sounds of punches, thumps, and curses fades. You look up again and Dean's head is in view over the edge of the table. He's talking to Sam, "Are you done?"
"Get off me, asshole," Sam barks.
"When I'm ready. Now, calm your ass down, bitch," he says with a final slap to Sam.
Dean's face fills the screen, his look is full of his usual cool confidence.
You can hear Sam mutter, "Jerk." Then he's hefting himself off of the floor. His hair is mussed and there a pink hand print under the stubble on his cheek.
There is some back and forth between them, more civilized this time, as Dean explains the problem. Sam's face grows to fill the screen as he takes the tablet and messes with the settings.
He sets the tablet down so you can see both the brothers again. "Okay, say something now, Y/N," Dean requests.
"Hi," you say with a crooked grin.
"Hot damn, Sammy!" Dean roars and claps Sam on the back. "You fixed it!"
"Hi there, Y/N," Sam says with a warm smile, punctuated by his dimples.
"Not that I need to ask, but how's it going?" you ask, wearing a worried look.
Dean exits the frame and Sam replies, "We're, uh... going a little stir crazy."
They'd been on a hunt for almost a week. They were hunting a vengeful spirit from a local mansion. She was known when she was alive for brutally beating several of her employees to death. Being dead hadn't slowed her down much, it seemed.
You weren't with them on this because you'd broken your ankle on a black dog hunt last month. You were stuck at the bunker helping with research and fielding phone calls from other hunters.
"You're going stir crazy?" you snort. "I'll tell you about stir crazy."
"I know. With any luck we'll be back in three or four days," Sam says, trying to reassure you.
You make a whining noise. "That's too long. Didn't you already torch the old gal's bones?"
Dean come back into frame with a beer in each hand. He hands one to Sam and takes a pull on the other. He's the one who answers you. "We did burn the bitch, but not all of the kills fit her M.O., so we've gotta stick around for a little longer to make sure there's just the one ghost."
You whine again.
"I know, Y/N," Dean cuts in before you can say anything. "We miss you too. Sammy can't keep his hands off me when you're not around. Not that I blame him." He smirks at Sam and runs a finger over his nipple through his shirts.
Sam throws an elbow at Dean's ribs, "Shut up, asshole."
"I want you guys to come home now." You're pouting and you don't even care. You let your head drop down to the table in frustration.
You can hear the smirk in Dean's voice when he quips, "Horny, eh?"
You lift your head to scowl at him and let it fall back down. "Yes," you reluctantly admit.
"We are too," Sam confides.
You look up at the brothers again. "But, why?" you ask. "You're both-"
"Because Sam says it wouldn't be fair without you here," Dean grumbles. "He won't let me fuck him until we get home," he shoots Sam a withering look.
With a shrug you reply, "As admirable as that is there's no reason for all three of us to be miserable."
"Well, you're here now," Sam offers.
"Heh. Good thinking, Sammy," Dean says. Then he reaches over to grope Sam.
"Down, boy." Sam shoves Dean hand off his lap. "Why don't we let Y/N call the shots?"
"Ohhh. Also a good idea," Dean sniffs.
You scoff, "You mean like phone sex?"
"Sure," Dean answers, "Except we can all see each other. So, it's like... hotter."
You gradually become aware that your cheeks are burning. Blushing... you're blushing. You try to hide, but Dean sees and laughs.
"Are you laughing at me, Dean Winchester?" you pout.
He's rocking in his chair and the bastard is actually guffawing. "You son of a-" you crow. "Saaaammm..."
Sam interrupts you, "I know, I've got it." He winds up and punches Dean's arm hard.
"What the fuck, shithead?" Dean asks angrily.
Sam lowers his voice so Dean has to pay attention. "Don't be a douche."
"Right," Dean sniffs, abashed. "Sorry, Y/N."
"It's okay, Dean."
"So," Dean says, leaning back with a smirk, "I'm game if you are. Sammy's ass looks awesome in his fed suit. It's more than one man can tolerate. He won't even give me any road head."
Sam hits Dean with a caustic bitchface, and with an eye roll turns back to you.
Sam's eyebrows are bunched with worry when he addresses a question to you. "What do you think? It doesn't seem fair, since you can't be here with us, but, on the other hand, I think we can agree that we're all a little frustrated and on edge." Dean huffs out a laugh and Sam glowers at him a moment before continuing, "Some more than others, obviously. And, by your own admission, you're... I believe the word you used was 'miserable.' I know you can get off by yourself, but I'd feel better about Dean and me if you were here too." His eyebrows were still knit together with concern for you, but he gave you a sweet crooked smile, dimples denting his cheeks.
You already knew you were going to say yes. As soon as they brought it up you felt warmth spread in your belly and wetness between your legs. Sam's puppy dog eyes were the icing on the cake though.
"I'm in," you state with a grin. "How are we going to do this?"
"We keep it simple. You call the shots. We do what you tell us to do." This surprisingly succinct and reasonable response comes from Dean. Apparently the prospect of getting laid had a sobering effect on the eldest Winchester brother.
"I like it," you grin. "Do you guys have lube?" Dean snickers and you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively.
"Of course we do. Sammy the Boy Scout is always prepared," Dean replies, smacking Sam's ass when he rises to retrieve the lube from his bag.
The bottle thunks down on the table to the left of the screen and Sam sits back down. "There we go. Anything else?" Sam asks.
"Nope. I wanna watch you guys kiss for a minute. Can you just kiss, please?" You sound a little desperate now that the show is on the road, but you don't think anyone notices since Dean is pulling Sam in close to nibble at his lips.
Dean's hands rest on Sam's cheeks, scratching over his stubble. His thumbs restlessly trace over Sam's cheekbones as Dean slowly kisses his way into Sam's mouth. Their tongues meet in the middle, sliding and twining against each other until Sam seals their mouths together. Sam seizes Dean's flannel shirt and pulls them in close until their chests are bumping together.
Dean winds the fingers of one hand into Sam's hair and uses his grip to position Sam's head at a more extreme angle, deepening the kiss. With a needy whine Sam climbs onto Dean's lap, straddling him.
You huff out a whispered curse before asking in a shaky voice, "Can you guys move over to the bed?"
The brothers reluctantly separate and move across the motel room. Sam grabs a chair and the tablet on his way. He sets the tablet on the chair so you're able to see them.
"What do you want?" Dean asks, his voice husky with arousal.