Currently thinking of John getting back from a hunt, only to find that his boys have hopped motels again.
“This is ridiculous,” he says when he catches up to them. “There’s no reason you should be making so much noise you get kicked out every time I’m gone.”
“Sorry, sir,” they answer, looking at the ground.
Then Dean smirks. “Not my fault Sammy’s a noisy little bitch.”
“Dean!” Sam shouts indignant, kicks at his brother’s leg.
Dean tackles him, and they land on the bed, bouncing and wrestling and Sam’s laughing shrieks fill the room and John’s heart together. He smiles, watching them, and yeah he can see how two noisy boys roughhousing made enough noise to get kicked out but it’s good to see them happy. And he needs to break up the fight before they break this bed, too.
“All right, enough!” John barks out, and Dean immediately jumps off of Sam, stands in front of him again, still grinning. Sam scrambles to his feet a moment later, face flushed and panting slightly. “Just… try to keep the roughhousing outside, okay boys? Last thing we need is someone looking into us when you kids are alone.”
Currently thinking of John off on another hunt, leaving his boys behind with an admonition to keep it down. So this time when Dean’s balls deep in Sammy’s ass, he’s got his hand pressed tight over Sammy’s mouth, muffles the moans and whines and begging with fingers shoved into wet heat, muffles his own grunts with teeth in Sam’s shoulder.
When they’re finished, lying sweat-slick and pressed together because they can’t stand not touching, Sammy snorts. “It is so your fault,” he mumbles, lips pressed against Dean’s neck.
Dean’s brain is still sex-hazed, and it takes a moment for him to catch up. “Maybe,” he says, pulling Sam tighter to him and pressing a kiss to mussed-up hair. “But you’re still a noisy little bitch.”
