Sam cursed under his breath before jumping down to the dug grave, his boots crushing down the dirt.
He doesn't give a moment for Dean to open that damn mouth of his. His lips met with Dean's chapped ones, Dean didn't answer the invitation for intimacy at first. Sam guesses the action was too sudden for his older brother.
Dean dropped the shovel, and his hands flew to Sam's shoulders so that he could pull him closer. Chest to chest. His lips pushed against Sam's soft lips as if accepting the intimacy his precious brother invited him to.
The first kiss was sudden, an act to prove annoyance. They pulled back a little to take a breath, the line they danced around was erased with the second kiss. A deeper one, where they are pouring down their desires to each other's throat.
Dean's warm tongue peeked through, touching Sam's bottom lip. Asking for permission, ever the gentleman that he is. Who is Sam to deny his older brother's tongue? He accepts it.
This is better than the dirty dreams he had about Dean.
Dean's tongue slid through, and his hands moved forward to cup Sam's face so he could angle his face, a little tilt to the right. His precious baby brother deserves the best after all, and Dean is always happy to give the best.
Sam moans to the kiss, the leftover taste of beer Dean drank earlier is attacking his taste buds, as if the beer is pouring down to his mouth as well. It tastes better when it's Dean. It's sweeter and addictive.
Sam's hands move back from Dean's face to the nape of his neck, his dominant hand gripping the short dirty blonde strands. He needs Dean like oxygen, he needs the taste of beer like it's the only thing that can save Sam's damned soul.
Dean swallowed Sam's moan, further down to the already pooling heat in his stomach. On God, he swore, Dean didn't know Sammy could make such beautiful noises. He wondered what other noises Sam could make.
The urge to breathe broke the kiss. Their foreheads touching as brown met green, Sam could see Dean's dilated pupils. His eyes are shining like there are stars in them as if angels put stars in his green eyes to prove to Sam how special his big brother is.
The thin line of saliva was a bridge between their lips, and Dean's chapped lips were swelling. He knows they should stop, this is wrong but when did they ever listen to other people anyway?
They are panting, breathing the same air. Sam could smell the cheap store-bought deodorant Dean used, alongside sweat. It's filling his lungs, making him dizzy.
He leans forward and tilts his head down to nuzzle his face against Dean's neck. His lips touch the soft skin, it's tender at first. Each one is like a thank you Sam didn't voice before. Thank you for saving me back there, a kiss, thank you for choosing me, another kiss.
Sam's right hand moved down from Dean's hair to hold his neck, not to squeeze but to rest it there. His thumb caressing the little scar that Dean got a few weeks ago, during a fight.
His lips parted enough to suck on the skin, wet with saliva. He could taste the sweat on Dean's skin, salty yet so fucking tasty. He decides this is better than the taste of beer on Dean's tongue.
Dean tilted his head back to give Sammy more room, his hand cupped the back of Sam's head. Brown locks tangled with his calloused hand, "Sammy." he mutters, his voice is low. As if to not wake up the dead.
Sam hummed and continued his ministrations. "Yes, Dean?" he asked. He didn't pull back though, he was already addicted, and let's be honest. When did Sam Winchester ever listen to someone?
"Sammy," Dean mutters again, his voice still low yet more serious. He should've known Sammy wouldn't listen to him, after all despite their circumstances Dean spoiled Sam too rotten.
As much as Dean would let Sam have his way, he's already hard and unpatient. They don't have all the time in the world after all. They are in the middle of a cemetery, more specifically in a damn grave for fucks sake.
Dean tugged Sam's hair to pull his hair back and his precious Sam let out the most beautiful moan he ever heard in his damn life. Well, that was a pleasant surprise.
"We don't have much time," Dean said with a serious tone, it's deeper. Darker. It makes a shiver run down Sam's spine, he feels small even though he's taller than Dean. So he does what he always does best, he defies.
Sam's grip tightened on Dean's neck, not cutting his older brother's airway, but to show. "Stop fucking up the mood," he grumbled. Dean needs to learn how to shut up.
Dean scoffed, "I'm reminding you to stop wasting time." he shot back, he sometimes forgets how much of a brat Sam can be when he wants to. Taking his sweet fucking time to work up Dean more as if he's not already hard enough.
His sweet Sammy, the ever brat, responds with another grumble but Dean isn't having it, and to be honest, he isn't listening anymore. So Dean's hands slid to Sam's shoulders and push him down, made Sam kneel on the ground.
The dirt crunches under his knees as Sam looks up at Dean. His brows furrowed, soft brown eyes filled with annoyance, he opened his mouth to talk back again but Dean pushed his thumb inside.
Sam's tongue rolled around Dean's thumb. "I told you, didn't I?" Dean said with pissed off tone, Sam thought it was the hottest thing ever. The dark tone, the anger in his voice that makes Sam want to push more. Sam Winchester learned how to play with danger after all, it's a dance that he knows the moves like back of his hand.
"That we don't have much time, that you should stop fucking playing around." Dean continued on. His grip is back on Sam's hair, tight enough to show how serious he is. With each word Sam's cock was twitching under his boxers.
He moaned around Dean's thumb, shameless about the fact that he gets off with his brother's control. His hips jerked involuntarily when Dean pressed his foot down to Sam's crotch.
"Is this what you want to be? A fucking brat?" he applied more pressure, not to hurt but to remind Sam who is in charge. Sure, Sammy can play with his buttons, all he wants but in the end of the day, Dean is in control.
Sam moaned louder, despite the thumb in his mouth. His eyes glazed over with desire. Dean pulled his thumb out from Sam's warm mouth, instead gripped Sam's chin to tilt his head back. Dean leaned down, "C'mon Sammy, open that mouth."
When Sam opened his mouth, as if it's an offering, Dean didn't lose a second and spit to his mouth. Letting the saliva land on Sam's tongue, he kept his grip on Sam's chin. Dean pulled his hand back from those brown locks to unbuckle his belt.
"Do I have to remind you who's in charge Sammy?" he taunted, before Sam could say anything, Dean shoved his tongue in his mouth again, claiming it, swirling around with his own. Sam parted the kiss, gasping for air. There's nothing more holy and sinful than this, a beautiful contradiction.
Dean pulled unbuttoned his pants, pulled down the zipper as the sounds of their gasps were drowning everything else. Sam moved forward like it's an instinct, his lips met with Dean's hard cock hiding behind his boxers.
He heard Dean's hiss, and then his hand moved to grasp his hair in a tight grip. Not pulling or pushing, just keeping it there. Sam licked the wet spot on Dean's boxers, he would do anything for Dean. That was for sure. "Already eager for my cock sweetheart?" there was a hint of amusement in his voice now, he was enjoying it. Oh he was so enjoying it.
Sam was far too addicted of the taste to even snap back at Dean but he managed to glare at him, which earned an amused chuckle from Dean.
The fabric was pulled down to his thighs and finally, Dean's gorgeously hard cock was free. His tip was oozing precum, sliding down, so red like it's on the verge of combusting. Maybe it is, considering Dean was already hard before they started making out in a cemetery.
And the thrill of it was really intimate. Being the only living thing amongst the dead, moans full of love and desire pouring down from lips, echoing in the night.
Sam was impatient, and so he started with a kiss on his base. His mouth climbing up on Dean's cock with each kiss, those low moans were like a choir of angels to Sam. He could feel Dean's grip on his hair tighten, nearly giving him a headache but he didn't give two fucks about it. Not when the masterpiece is right there. Sam left a soft kiss on Dean's tip before running his tongue through to collect the precum, he watched Dean's head thrown back.
Moans are pouring down. Sam didn't want to stop, relishing the power he had over his older brother, he wrapped his lips around Dean's tip. He pushed his head down, taking it inch by inch. Breathing through his nose to not gag around it, he stopped when the tip hit the back of his throat.
"Fuck," Dean cursed out loud, "Fuck Sammy you're so good." he looked back down at the scene, Sam on his knees. Looking like a damn Renaissance painting, hell even better than that. Only Dean can see and witness, he ran his hand over Sam's hair to push back the brown strands that were sticking to his sweaty forehead, "So damn good for me." he can't help it, he needs to praise his precious Sammy for being so good for him.
Sam took the rest of it down to his throat. His face pressed to Dean's crotch, nose buried deep in Dean's bush. He could smell Dean's musk, it's dizzying. This must be the gates of heaven, and Dean must be his god. Letting Sam enter his personal heaven.
Dean started to guide Sam's head by tugging his hair. That beautiful, warm mouth was open for him. Gagging around it like he was made for it, "Bet this is what you wanted from start, yeah?" Dean was sure this is why Sam was being all bratty about. "You just needed your brother's cock in your pretty mouth."
Sam's hands were on Dean's legs, holding it tightly and letting Dean use his mouth. The gagging sounds mixed with Dean's words were making his brain feel fuzzy, pliant and just want to be used.
Dean was fastening his moves, his hips rolling forward to meet halfway through. He didn't forget to press his boot on Sam's crotch, he wants to give attention to the neglected cock too, poor Sammy couldn't touch it after all. Too busy sucking his brother's cock.
He was getting close, it was hard to hold himself back from not cumming to Sam's throat. That little piece of heaven. Tucked away from everyone and only served to Dean.
"M'getting close Sammy." Dean said between his moans, he knows Sam would swallow every drop. He's good like that, he never waste anything. "Gonna let me cum in your mouth?" he rolled his hips again as if to prove his point.
Sam nodded a little, still busy with gagging around Dean's cock. Sucking it like his life depends on it, tears started to roll down from his pretty brown eyes. Sliding on his flushed cheeks.
Dean pressed Sam's head to the base of his cock, his left hand held Sam's jaw. Kept him there as he came with a broken moan. His cum spilling down to Sam's throat, Dean really thought he saw the stars in the damn night sky shine brighter when he came.
Sam spluttered around Dean's cock, the salty taste was making his eyes roll back to his skull. He came right after Dean did, messing his boxers and pants with a muffled moan that he swallowed alongside Dean's cum.
When Dean felt his cock soften in Sam's mouth, his grip loosened and then he pulled back. His hand combing through the tousled brown locks, left thumb caressing his jaw to soothe it. "So good.. always good for me Sammy." he murmured before leaned down to leave a kiss on Sam's sweaty forehead.
Satisfied and spent, Sam rested his forehead on Dean's thigh. His chest heaving with harsh breaths like he just ran a marathon.
A few droplets of cum fell into the dug grave. That can be a gift to dead from the living, to give them what they are missing or perhaps a 'thank you' for not disturbing them. Who knows what the dead could do?
His lips curled upwards with the kiss, it felt good to be praised after giving his damn best. Dean kept combing through his hair, letting Sam collect himself. He can carve the damn universe to give Sam everything he ever wants, that's his darling.
With soft reminders to breath, Sam collected himself. Sam nuzzled his face before bit down Dean's inner thigh with a little smirk. Leaving a souvenir or rather a 'claim' on Dean, drawing blood and then licking the bite mark.
He earned a tug on his hair for that but people needs to know who Dean belongs to after all, even though Sam won't let people throw Dean to their bed. "What? Can't handle a little bite?" Sam said with a rough voice as he gets back up on his feet with the help from Dean.
"Man you bite really hard." Dean grumbled, rubbing his hand to the bite mark before pulled his boxers then his pants up. Zipping it back, he buckled his belt with trembling hands leftover from the life-changing blowjob Sammy just gave him.
They climbed up from the grave, well it was the wrong one but it's okay. They can find the right one tomorrow night. Right now Dean's plan is to show Sammy how much he appreciates him, it's only fair if he gets the same amount of love as well.
Both men start to walk back to the baby, following the rocky path of the cemetery. His hand found Sam's hand, intertwined their fingers. Three squeezes for an I love you, and then a soft peck on Sam's cheek that makes his little brother smile softly.