It doesnāt hit him until after the hunt. They were scrambling, running fast and hard after that goddamn kitsune, and after Sam caught her and Dean stabbed her in the heart, the sirens started to wail, and there wasnāt time for much else but quickly lighting the corpse, darting back into the woods at high speed, sprinting low through the dark until they tumbled back into the carāand then it was driving, sedate and quiet, back to the motel for the night, even if Deanās heart was pounding fit to crash right out of his chest and Sam was breathing hard next to him, that stomach-curdle of burnt-meat smoke heavy in the pit of their lungs.
When they finally stumble, quiet as they can manage, into the motel room, Sam heads straight for the bed and falls onto his back on the mattress, still breathing hard. Dean flicks on the light in the bathroom and washes his face of the dirt and sweat, the blood spatter from when heād stabbed her in the heart, right where it counted. His own heartās still thudding in the base of his throat. The adrenalineās not quite gone, and he strips off his shirt and pants, thinking that, maybe a showerā
Heās kicking his briefs off his ankle when he comes back into the room, and heās jittery and overwarm, and heās thinking of his shower kit but heās wantingāwell, he wants something, and then he sees Sam. Still spread out, on his back, arms splayed out wide over the mattress and his boots still on. The light from the bathroom cuts a sharp angle over the bed, and it lights up Sammyās thigh and a sliver of exposed stomach and the gleaming bronze column of his throat. Samās still sweating, hard, sweating even long past the exertion that earned it, because thatās what Sammy does. He runs too hot, that big body pumping out sweat like itāll help to cool it downāand Dean stops, his own body naked and cool, skin prickling a little in the air conditioning streaming from the unit under the window. He licks his lips, and he looks at Sam, at the damp center of his chest where heās soaked through his undershirt, at the tiny shining gleam of his belly, and then heāhe knees up on the bed and swings a thigh over Samās and Samās eyes fly open and he grabs at Deanās hips, but he doesnāt flinch. He lets Dean settle his weight there, in Samās lap, lets Dean just look at him. His hands are lax on Deanās skināholding, not urging. Dean knows heās tired. Theyāre both tired, but that adrenalineās still kicking against Deanās ribs, andā
He tucks his fingers under the damp-soft hem of Samās flannel, runs his thumbs up the slick skin of his belly, the damp crinkling hair of his treasure trail, and Sam frowns a little but when Dean tugs on his shirt, harder, he squirms around obligingly and tugs shirt and undershirt off, over his head, drops them to the floor beside the mattress and drops onto his back again, and there it is. Samās sweating, probably more now that heās got Deanās weight on him. It gleams, shining over the hollow of his throat, over his collarbones and his chest, curling his chest hairāand when a group of cop cars go screaming past the motel and Sam turns his head to follow the sound of the sirens, Dean can see that his hairās soaked, the soft heavy weight of it that he grips when Samās blowing him or fucking him or when theyāre kissing is just soaked clean through, and he leans down and buries his face in Samās throat and bites, not hard but enough to get some flesh between his teeth, his tongue slicking over the salt of his brother.
āAh,ā Sam says, low, and that jittery feeling in Deanās belly goes hot and liquid. He sucks hard against his mouthful of salt and skin and straining tendon and Sam shivers, tucks a hand over the back of Deanās neck. His hips kick up a little into Deanās, and Dean squirms against him, his own dick hardening up, but he breaks Samās grip on him anywayāhe slides his hands up Sammyās bare sides and shoves his arms out of the way, and up. Sam grabs gamely onto the cheap headboard and then thereās Samās pits and their wet curling hair and something in Deanās stomach curls and drops like a stone and he bites across the heaving expanse of Samās pec and slicks his tongue into the wet hollow, buries his nose ināin that smell, oh god, all that crazy damp heat of him, right there and waiting for Dean. Sam sucks in a breath as Dean bites against the deep muscle thereāgives a little strangled laugh as Dean tongues the hair flat, as he scrapes his teeth up to the swell of Samās bicep, tasting the shape of him.
āDean,ā Sam says, faint, and Dean abandons his pit and buries a hand in the sopping wet hair at the back of his neck and kisses him, wide open. Sam groans against his tongue, his hips hitching up again, but he leaves his hands on the headboard. Heās justāheās just letting Dean do this, even if Dean doesnāt even really know what heās doing himselfāand with his other hand Dean fumbles open Samās belt, he undoes Samās button and zip and tucks his hand down, past the treasure trail to the short crisp curls, and theyāre wet, too, Godā
He breaks away from Samās mouth and leans his forehead on Samās shoulder, pushes up onto his knees so he has room and shoves Samās jeans and briefs down to mid-thigh, and even in the shadow of his own body he can see the sweat slick over the v of his pelvis, sweat gleaming wetly over on the sharp cut of muscle above that big pretty dick thatās just straining, wet of its own accord as it slaps heavy against Deanās bare thigh, and he drops his weight right back into Samās lap and lines their dicks up together, rears up with his knees digging hard into the mattress either side of Samās hips so he can see as he presses his dick flat against Samās, shoving forward and glancing against the wet sharp cut of his hip. Their balls drag together and Dean shivers, but he shivers harder at the imageāhis dick slipping over Samās bigger one under the cage of his hand, the long gleaming line of Samās torso leading up to his heaving chest, the shine of his throat, the sharp edge of his jaw and his wet parted mouth and the dark heavy-lidded eyes as he stares up at Dean, still holding onto the headboard even as his hips lurch up, grinding his dick hard up into Deanās so that a spark lights in Deanās belly, and then itās on.
Theyāre shoving together, and Deanās starting to leak and itās just adding to the slick between them, and he grinds down into the sweat on Samās belly and leans down and buries his nose into the wet under Samās ear and he can smell him again, hot and heavy and almost cloying in the back of his throat, full up to his lungs with his brother. Samās breath is coming harsh and heavy over his neck, his shoulder, Samās face turned in toward Deanās. Dean shoves his dick in hard against Samās hip and puts a hand on Samās side to balance and he slips, somehow, shoves himself forward too far, and Samās dick slides up, behind, slips past his balls and glances wet against Deanās hole and just the thought of that, just the image of Sam just being able to slip into him, to glide in on sweat and precome and bury himself in Dean without any prepāoh, fuck, Dean licks at the straining tendon under Samās ear and bites in and with the salty taste of skin under his tongue he comes, just like that, humping against Samās belly, and while heās panting Samās arms come down over his shoulders and his lower back like a vice, and heās held rigidly in place as Sam fucks up into the crack of his ass, one hand clamping down to keep him in place and heās so sensitive it almost hurts, his dick and balls crushed in against Samās belly, rolling in his own mess until Sam sucks in a strangled breath and fucks up one more time and comes, spurts over his own hand, splats landing up on Deanās back, slopping against the swell of Deanās ass. He shudders, hard, while Sam fucks up through his orgasm, and itās only slowly that Samās arms unlock and release Deanās back and shoulders, so that Dean can breathe normally again.
He licks again under Samās ear, makes him squirm, and then plants his hands on Samās shoulders and pushes himself up, with a groan. He shifts his hips up just enough that Samās dick slips away from his ass, flops back up big and flushed and wet against Samās own belly, and then he settles back down, grinding them softly together.
Sam watches him, one hand settled heavy over Deanās thigh and one tucked behind his head. Thereās come slicked up Samās belly, and heās sweating even more nowāitās at his temples and throat, darkening his stubble almost to black. Dean licks his lips.
āThis is kind of disgusting,ā Sam says, after a minute. He doesnāt sound like he minds.
Dean trails a thumb down Samās chest, over his damp hair and through a smear of come, until he brushes the fat head of Samās dick, still not quite soft. He glances up andāyeah. Samās eyes are heavy, and dark, and his mouthās parted while he watches Dean, steadily.
āI was thinking I might take a shower,ā Dean says, finally. His voice is all scratched up and too-deep. āIfāyou know.ā
āYeah,ā Sam says, and slides his hand up Deanās thigh to the curve of his hip, where Deanās sweaty, too. Dean shivers, a little. āI think I might join you.ā
