After Work Happy Hour
“I swear, I never do this,” Dean murmured between short, heated breaths while trying to maintain his composure. It was difficult with Sam’s mouth laying kisses along his jawline just so his counterpart had a moment to catch his breath.
“Yeah, I know. You’ve said that at least 15 times since I kissed you,” Sam replied with a quiet chuckle, moving back to Dean’s lips to lay a lingering one there. The faint remnants of beer and unexpected whiskey shots could be tasted on the exhale.
“Mmn,” Dean mumbled as he moved a hand to push lightly at Sam’s chest, disconnecting their lips again.
He had put in an inordinate amount of effort trying to get back into his own lane after their paths had crossed, and now here he was, locking lips with the younger male while parked in a dark corner of his neighborhood.
“I don’t know if we should do this,” Dean finally managed, his eyes roaming Sam’s features back and forth slowly. Sam sank back in his seat and exhaled a bit of a calming sigh, taking a moment to get himself back in check.
“Are we about to have the whole, ‘this is a bad idea’ talk because we work together?” Sam asked with a breath of a laugh, clearing his throat afterward. He had sensed this was going to come eventually, mostly because Dean always seemed to push back against his initial plans, always second-guessing them and him. It was kind of annoying, honestly.
“Well yeah, don’t you think it’s sort of crossing the line?” Dean asked, licking his mildly swollen lips.
“As much as it crosses the line with you asking me out.”
“I didn’t ask you out. I mean, I asked if you wanted to grab a beer–”
“And now we’re making out in your car. I think that constitutes a date, Dean,” Sam retorted with a shake of his head.
“You know,” Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, conceding defeat. “Maybe this was just the wrong place, wrong time.”
“You’re right. We should move this up to your place in the next 10 minutes.”
Dean stared at Sam in a bemused fashion, but the other male’s expression gave no hint of it being said ironically. His face deadpanned and he swallowed, turning to face the steering wheel again.
“Have you… never done this before?”
“What? Of course I have. Shut up,” Dean stammered, shooting an incredulous look at Sam before clearing his throat again.
“No, no. I didn’t mean it like you’re a virgin or anything. But I mean have you never hooked up with men before?”
There was a thick silence that fell between them and Dean’s cheeks were hot with embarrassment. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, like it was pressed back against his windpipe and trapping any witty retort he might have been able to come up with.
“You know what? This is over. Night is officially over,” Dean finally spoke up, shoulders tense now as he fumbled with his keys before he felt Sam’s hand just above his knee. He paused and glanced back over to the other male stiffly.
“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to offend you or embarrass you,” Sam chuckled, unable to really believe that his superior was so flustered from harmless kissing. “This doesn’t have to be any more serious than you want it to be. No expectations. I just.. had a really good time tonight, and I think.. well I hope, that we’re comfortable enough around each other and mature enough to take it a few steps further without it getting…” he paused. “Sticky may not be the best word choice, but I’m going to use it anyway.”
Dean took a few quiet moments to contemplate what Sam had pitched. The maturity part should have been true, but Dean had the sneaking suspicion with the way things moved quickly between them that it was going to be difficult to keep it on the down low at work. Honestly, just look at Sam Wesson. And he did for a few long moments, unaware that he was until the younger male’s expression cracked slightly under anticipation of a response.
“We can’t afford to let this get messy, Sam,” Dean finally spoke up, glad to see there was a smile instead of a look of disappointment on the taller man’s face.
“Then you’ll have to help with the clean up afterward,” Sam quipped.
Dean’s eyebrows raised, caught between amusement and surprise at how lackadaisical the other was. Less than 12 hours ago, he was about ready to put his foot down and tell him to forget it, to get any notion out of his head that anything would transpire between the two of them.
“So are you gonna invite me up or are we gonna keep making out in your car?”
“You know, for no expectations, you’re kinda making it seem like you planned this,” Dean replied with a wry grin, and Sam took that as an invitation to lean in and press their lips together once more, easing any lingering tension and hesitation that the elder may have had.
“Well when opportunity knocks,” Sam murmured against his lips and Dean chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before I change my mind.”
Dean was surprised to see that Sam could keep his hands off of him as they had the elevator to themselves. Surprised, and mildly disappointed, as the time spent without the younger’s hands or lips on him gave him time to reconsider what he was doing. He knew he shouldn’t be messing around with anyone from work, everyone knew that mixing business with pleasure was messy , at best.
His disappointment faded quickly once he had his keys in the door, because Sam wasted no time in getting those big hands on his waist, pulling him in so they were flush against each other with their lips joined once more, Dean needing to tilt his head upward to meet for the kiss.
It was overwhelming, to feel the full press of Sam’s body against his. His keys fell noisily to the hardwood floor as he moved his hands up to settle against the broad chest before him, and he wondered briefly if Sam ordered his shirt a size too small because he liked to show off his physique or if he was just shit at getting his measurements right. He could feel the warmth of his skin through the material and it was suddenly too hot. He pushed his palms against firm muscle, putting a few inches of space between them.
“Whoa, easy, tiger,” Dean spoke with a breathy chuckle. His mind was foggy, either from the beer and whiskey from earlier that night or Sam’s dime store cologne warmed by body heat. Or both. Probably both. “Gimme a second to get my bearings.”
Dean parted from him and felt his lips tingling and kiss-swollen. He headed further into his apartment with his back to the taller male but he could still feel his eyes on him, intense and lingering. Tiger indeed, he felt like prey being stalked by a hungry predator. He kicked his shoes off at the end of the entry hall and glanced back towards Sam with the expectation for him to do the same before he entered the living room and took a seat on the couch. He could hear Sam give a long exhale through his nose, unable to tell if it was through disappointment or if he liked the cat and mouse game.
“You don’t strike me as a failure-to-follow-through kinda guy,” Sam commented as he took a seat on the couch next to Dean, much too close.
“You callin’ me a chicken?” Dean asked with a lift of an eyebrow.
“No,” Sam chuckled. “I’m just saying, after what we’ve been through, I don’t expect much of anything to scare you.”
“Well like I said, I never do this. It’s new territory for me and I don’t like to take uncalculated risks.” Dean shifted an inch or two over to give him more room to shrug off his suspenders, letting them sit loosely at his sides.
Sam relented in his straight forward approach as he reclined back against the couch, his large, tanned hands smoothing over the slacks that were a little too tight on him as well. It had to be a physique thing. It wasn’t like he couldn’t consider his muscle mass when shopping for clothes.
“Uncalculated risks,” Sam parroted as he gave a shake of his head. “I feel like you don’t know how to turn off the work persona. You don’t ever just follow your gut?”
Dean considered his words for a moment. The more he thought about it, the longer it didn’t make sense that his career goals were the only thing that he’d been worried about for the last couple of weeks. The only reprieve he had from the stress of a corporate job was the time they spent hunting down the old-timer rattling chains around the office.
“I used to. I think,” Dean responded distantly, unsure of his own words. “Maybe I don’t know how to relax. I get caught up in my head about everything that could go wrong so it’s best to just walk the straight and narrow, you know?”
“Okay, so don’t think,” Sam retorted and he was upright again, pressing against Dean’s side. Dean looked down at where their thighs were touching, letting his gaze move up until it fell upon Sam’s face. Close. Much too close. His heart skipped a beat. “Just feel,” Sam encouraged, and before Dean could protest, he felt the warmth of Sam’s palm against his cheek and the press of his lips against his own.
The loud buzzing in his mind quieted as he let his eyes fall shut and leaned into Sam’s form, deciding (against his better judgment) to follow his lead. His hand moved as he finally allowed himself to touch in return, settling on the side of Sam’s neck. He was warm – like he lived a degree or two hotter than everyone else, and he could feel the softness of those curls just under his ear. He pushed his fingers through them as he realized he had been wanting to do that for far too long.
Sam responded in kind with an inhale through his nose and breathed out a keen sound from the back of his throat. The kiss deepened quickly now that they had the space to lean into one another. Sam’s hand had moved down from his neck to the front of his shirt, working the buttons open so he had more access to Dean’s skin. Apparently it wasn’t quick enough for the younger male because a quick tug had buttons flying, and it was almost as offending as it was exciting, a rush of heat coursing through Dean’s form.
Shirts were discarded before Dean found himself leaning back against the couch, the heavy weight of Sam’s body a top of him. He couldn’t recall the last time he had made out like this, maybe when he was a teenager, but the details seemed a little blurred. But that could have been because Sam’s hand was now at his belt, working it open before he was pushing his hand inside eagerly. All it took was a brush of fingers against his straining arousal to earn a struggled sound from Dean’s throat before he moved a hand to grip at Sam’s wrist. He didn’t necessarily stop him from his endeavors, he just needed an anchor to keep him grounded.
“This okay?” Sam asked, breathy and too hot against his neck.
“Y-yeah,” Dean replied in equal breathiness, licking his lips quickly to moisten them. His heart was hammering a mile a minute in his chest, but the pressure against his length was too good to let any hesitation impede on the unfolding event taking place.
Sam took his word and curled his fingers around his cock, his palm dragging as best as it could behind the fabric of his slacks. With a twist of his wrist, he pulled Dean’s length from the confines before he gave him a full stroke, earning a moan from the elder’s parted lips.
He took a steadying breath as his eyelids fluttered some as Sam worked his cock to full hardness before he felt his mouth move from his neck, descending from his collar bone to his chest and further down. Dean moved his hand back into Sam’s hair, threading the thick strands through his fingers and giving a light tug. He received a moan from his actions and made a mental note to do that again a little later on if he could remember to do so with his pleasure-addled brain.
His breath caught in his throat and his muscles tensed the moment Sam’s lips wrapped around his aching dick, the wet heat sending a skittering of pleasure up his spine. He arched slightly, gripping the other’s hair a bit tighter before he vocalized his appreciation of the action.
“Sammy,” he moaned, temporarily forgetting that Sam didn’t appreciate the nickname, but it didn’t seem to bother him at that moment. He took Dean further into his mouth as he pressed his tongue along the underside of it and gave a suck as he pulled up, starting a slow and indulgent bobbing motion.
Dean couldn’t recall the last time he thought about sex, couldn’t recall the last girl he had hooked up with or even dated (if he even dated at all). But somehow this felt oddly familiar, and Sam seemed to know exactly what Dean liked with the way his tongue curled and pressed, applying just the right pressure with lips and giving his balls equal attention with rolls in his palm.
He chanced a glance downward, meeting hazel eyes with pupils blown wide before he noticed just how pink his lips were wrapped around his cock. Now that was a pretty picture. Dean could have sworn that he’d had this image burned into his mind from some time before. Maybe a dream? A fantasy he had quickly and embarrassedly dismissed?
He recalled when Sam divulged more details about his dreams he had been having, admitting that it was more than just ghosts that paid him a visit in his subconscious. That they were friends, no, that they were brothers . Maybe Sam was fearful in admitting he dreamt they were lovers because it would scare Dean, and that would have undoubtedly done so had he come clean straight away.
It would have sounded crazy then, but it did make a little sense now with the sudden flood of nostalgia that licked away any uncertainty Dean was holding onto about the entire situation. His mouth fell open, another soft utterance of Sammy falling from his lips.
Sam rewarded him with a drop of his head to take his cock deeper into his mouth, allowing it to press back against the soft palate of his throat. Dean broke their gaze as he tipped his head back and gave a long moan of pleasure, arching his hips up into the incredible wet heat of his throat. Sam gagged slightly, but was no less enthusiastic about his motions, lifting his head up before he started to bob again, each time letting Dean’s cock slip deeper until he had steadied his breathing through his nose.
Dean could hear every wet squelch of his dick pushing into the tightness of Sam’s throat with growing frequency. His face grew hot as he lifted his head again to watch with hungry eyes as his teeth dug into his bottom lip. His hips lifted in time with Sam’s avid pace, his fingers laying now at the nape of his neck to help guide him up and down as he fucked his mouth, his muscles tightening in his thighs and abdomen. He wasn’t going to last long, that much he knew, not with Sam’s throat swallowing around the head as his tongue pushed past his bottom lip to let the tip of it prod at his heavy balls on each descend.
“Oh, son of a bitch,” Dean exhaled. Sam pushed his shoulder against the inside of his knee to get his thighs to fall apart further, allowing more space for his big body to settle better as he hungrily slurped him down like he had been doing this for years. Dean could feel the warm heat pooling in his lower abdomen, like a coil steadily tightening and making his nerves feel pangs of electricity the closer it got to releasing. “Fuck, m’gonna.. S-sammy, gonna come..”
His warning didn’t seem to deter the younger man because Sam doubled down and took him entirely down his throat until his nose was pressed against the soft, short curls at his pubic bone. Dean went from teetering to full on free-falling into his orgasm with a sharp hiss and a cry of pleasure as his cock throbbed, pulsating hotly as he came in thick ropes down the other’s throat, and god bless Sam for resisting every urge to gag with the volume produced. He swallowed. Every. Last. Drop.
Sam pulled off with a wet slurp and Dean watched as he licked his lips. His cheeks were flushed and lips were glossy with saliva and the remnants of Dean’s release which he pressed against the underside of his steadily softening arousal as it laid against his belly. Dean briefly wondered how he tasted and if his clean-living diet had paid off in terms of palatability, but he didn’t ask. He loosened the hold he had on Sam’s hair and moved his hand to swipe his thumb over his bottom lip, holding his gaze even as his thumb was taking between still hungry lips and given a suckle.
Dean’s eyes must have glinted because Sam moved to crawl up Dean’s form and locked lips with him again, giving him a taste of his own seed with a push of his tongue into his mouth. Sam groaned and he gave him one in return before he felt a push of the other’s hard-on against his thigh as his bottom lip was sipped on, making him feel another little dizzy spell.
“Do you have lube?” Sam asked, voice too husky for Dean to not get a chill down his spine.
“Wh-?” Dean mumbled incoherently before the question registered and he let his head fall back with a groan. “Shit. No,” he grieved. He didn’t think that far ahead and never assumed they would actually get to this point. The shift in focus gave him a moment to collect himself as he suddenly became all too aware that he was half-dressed and half-hard. His eyes scanned the room for a moment, too embarrassed to look at Sam in his lack of preparation before they caught sight of a container of coconut oil on the counter. Cue dramatic zoom in.
Dean nudged his head towards the kitchen with his eyebrows raised and uttered, “Think that’ll work?”
“There’s a first time for everything, right?” Sam asked as he glanced towards the suggested substitute.
“Tell me about it,” Dean replied before he felt Sam press another kiss to his lips, wanting to chase after them before he had gotten up and off of him to go and retrieve the oil.
Dean watched as he headed into the kitchen, giving a small tilt of his head as his eyes traced the muscular form of his back. He wondered briefly what the other’s exercise regime was, if he was all protein or maybe he just hit the genetic lottery. Perhaps he could ask him for some tips. This would technically count as exercise, right?
He gave a shake of his head to break his train of thought, clearing his throat as Sam returned to him. Now he had the opportunity to admire from the front; hard muscle, taut skin, not a lot of hair so he was pretty well groomed. And the tent he was sporting in his pants? Apparently Sam Wesson was proportionate - big all over.
Dean glanced back up Sam’s body before he moved to stand, curling his fingers in the other’s waistband before he worked his slacks open as he held his gaze. The tension and the buzz of electricity between them was palpable. Sam’s eyes were intense, a thin ring of hazel around blown pupils held Dean’s and he couldn’t look away, even as his hand slipped inside to wrap his fingers around the younger’s arousal. Hot. Thick. Impressive.
The sound that left Sam’s lips was low and breathy as he eased his hips forward as soon as Dean gave him slow and firm strokes. It felt blood-hot against his palm, his own cock responding by filling out to full hardness again.
“You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?” Dean asked with a half-smug smile.
“Oh, look who’s no longer nervous. Thought you ‘never did this’,” Sam teased in response and Dean gave a scoff. “But maybe I have been. Seems like you have too.”
“Your mouth was pretty convincing,” Dean chided as he gave a twist of his wrist and ran his palm over the head of Sam’s cock which earned him a more drawn out moan from the taller.
It was getting easier to buy into the fantasy that Sam had pitched with the way his body was responding to everything. Not once did work cross his mind, no portfolio, no number crunching, just the body heat that radiated off the younger male and all the skin that was begging to be touched and explored. From the first caress of lips, Dean had found himself wanting more despite his hesitations, and now there was no going back.
“Yeah? It can be convincing in other ways too,” Sam retorted and leaned in to let his lips caress the shell of Dean’s ear. His voice dropped lower, whispered words like silk against the flesh. “Can’t stop thinking of you bending me over your desk and fucking me raw. Cornering me in the elevator, shoving me in a stall in the bathroom.. Your hands all over me any chance you can get,” he purred before he felt Sam nip at his earlobe with the slightest touch of tongue. Dean’s skin tightened with searing arousal as his eyes fell closed and he exhaled a shaky breath before he squeezed Sam’s length. He was so far passed convinced that he may as well have been hypnotized.
“God, Sammy,” Dean breathed before he turned his head for another heated lip-lock. He heard the thud of the coconut oil container hitting the couch before Sam’s hands were pushing down his pants the rest of the way and he returned the favor so they could step out of their clothes and strip down completely.
It was Dean’s turn to pin Sam underneath him after he pushed him to the couch. There was an exchange of heated breaths and moans between the entangling of tongues as their hips met, grinding against each other as Dean slotted himself against the other. One of Sam’s hands sat on the side of Dean’s neck with his fingers at the short bristles of hair while the other traversed down his side, his long and deft digits tracing the bump of ribs.
Dean couldn’t remember the last time a set of hands had felt this good on his body, and the push and pull of tongues with mingled sounds of pleasure was stroking his libido in all the right ways. He had to pull himself from the indulgence of it at all to remember that there was a task at hand, and he blindly reached for the container of coconut oil to unscrew the lid. Reluctantly, he pulled back from Sam’s mouth and dug his fingers into the solidified oil, feeling it heat up instantly at his touch.
“Gonna be hard to cook with this stuff after this,” Dean murmured, a half-slung smirk on his lips that earned a breathless laugh from the younger beneath him. He watched as Sam spread his thighs wider, one long leg going up along the back of the couch while he pulled the other up and towards his chest. Flexible. Nice.
With a decent amount of oil coating his fingers and his palms, Dean shifted to smear his digits against Sam’s eagerly awaiting hole. The slightest touch against the sensitive flesh had Sam tipping his head back and releasing a soft groan. Apparently he was sensitive too, which was something to be tucked away and bookmarked. He went to work slipping a digit inside of him, the oil granting him enough slickness to work it in and out easily. Sam was pressing back into the sensation as if he was riding it, encouraging more with a nod of his head.
Dean added a second finger before the appeal of Sam’s exposed neck called out to him, causing him to lean forward to attach his mouth to the stretch of flesh, layering it with heated kisses and scrapes of teeth.
“Feel good? Like you imagined?” Dean asked, unable to help himself.
“Fuck yeah,” Sam breathed, squeezing his hole around Dean’s fingers as a hand came to wrap around his cock, giving it short jerks as he was worked open. “Thicker than I anticipated.”
“That’s not the only thing you’re gonna be saying that about,” Dean replied with a grin, giving a scissor of his fingers before he pressed deeper, soon adding a third. “Did.. you dream about this too?” He asked as the thought crossed his mind.
“Nngh,” Sam groaned, releasing the hold on his length to press his hand against the flat of Dean’s back, having to lick his lips to wet them. “Not like with the ghosts. Those kinda came in flashes. This? Yeah, more recently,” Sam replied. “Spent a hell of a lot of time daydreaming about it too.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Dean asked, all ego and teasing now, a far stretch from where he was down in the car with Sam’s hand on his thigh and his lips at his neck.
“Shut up,” Sam retorted with a grin only to be met by another hungry kiss as Dean withdrew his fingers and slicked up his cock.
He held the base of his arousal as the other hand came up to find placement under the bend of Sam’s knee, keeping him spread and open as he aligned himself to his stretched entrance, giving a push inside and being welcomed by tight, wet heat. He groaned into Sam’s mouth, shifting his hips forward until he bottomed out, feeling every twitch and squeeze of his walls around his length, sheathing him perfectly.
He remained there for a few long moments, savoring the sensation of being intimate with someone again, locked into place like he had belonged there the whole time. Their lips parted even as they exchanged heated breaths, vision slightly out of focus as they tried to hold each other’s gazes.
“You okay?” Dean asked breathlessly.
“Yeah. Yeah.. you?” Sam asked in return before he swallowed, squeezing around Dean enough to earn a low keen from the back of his throat.
“Yeah..” he replied, dropping his head for a moment against his shoulder before he shifted to lift his torso some, smoothing his hands down Sam’s muscular chest, giving a roll of his hips forward to grind before he pulled back and pushed in, starting a slow rhythm, watching as the younger’s face contorted in pleasure. He was enraptured. Ensnared. Entangled.
His mind clicked, seemingly fading into a memory. He had seen this before, heard those sounds before, like some erotic deja vu that made his pulse quicken. Sammy felt familiar on his lips, as if it had permanent residence there, meant to be whispered, meant to be moaned.
Sam’s expression wavered slightly, like he was suddenly under a microscope, the pulling together of his eyebrows melding from concentrated pleasure to a curiosity.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Sam asked breathlessly, and Dean gave a small shake of his head to pull himself from his reverie.
“Nothing, sorry, you just.. you feel so good,” Dean managed as he gave a small flash of teeth in a smile and Sam rolled his eyes away from his gaze in a semi sheepish manner.
“Yeah? Well, don’t drag it out, Romeo, you’re not gonna break me.”
“Oh, well if you want me to fuck you, why don’t you ask nicely?” Dean retorted with a grin and a heavy grind forward that earned a slight raise of Sam’s hips and a groan that was far too tantalizing. His hand came up to curl his fingers against the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him down to press their lips together in a hungry kiss with a muffled sound of need against his mouth.
“Fuck me,” Sam whispered, giving a pull of Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth.
Dean immediately withdrew his hips back before he started a faster and rougher rhythm, much to Sam’s delight as he writhed and countered the elder’s movements. Every drag of Dean’s cock within the other’s tight and hungry hole was stoking smoldering embers into full fledged flames. The sensations of Sam’s hands on him, pulling him close, touching possessively made him feel alive in a way that felt like a distant memory.
“Dean,” his name spilled from Sam’s lips, an echo in his head. Hearing it in this circumstance was driving him wild and his breathing picked up as his skin tightened again.
“Still think of me as a big brother now?” Dean asked before he could even actually process the question he was asking.
“Oh, fuck,” Sam breathed and Dean felt him clamp hard around him, sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine as his cock pulsated in the tight grip of Sam’s insides. Did that turn him on? Did it turn him on?
“Yeah?” Dean asked, getting so caught up in the other’s pleasure and enthusiasm that he couldn’t help but to jump on board. It should have raised a red flag, should have grossed him out, but slipping into that new taboo dynamic was far too easy. “You get off on thinking about getting fucked by your big brother?”
“ God, Dean,” Sam whined, face flush with what Dean could only assume was a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. So he clocked him on having some kind of incest kink, that wasn’t the weirdest thing he had ever heard of. Was he really justifying this? It was just a fantasy, it wasn’t something he actually condoned or anything. It was just a little fun, after all, no need to have a morality crisis over it.
“Say it, Sammy, c’mon,” Dean coaxed, his hips continuing their rough treatment, fucking Sam into the couch before he felt him reach between them and start to jerk himself off in time with his thrusts. It sounded slick, like he was leaking all over his hand, and fuck if that didn’t spurn on Dean’s efforts.
“Yes, fuck,” Sam moaned, his eyebrows pulling together again as his hips stuttered when his muscles clenched tightly. “Dreamt we were brothers, dreamt of you fucking me,” he panted, groaning again. “Shit, I’m close..”
Dean shifted his hold on Sam’s leg, guiding the one that was draped against the couch up so he could maneuver behind him instead, laying them both on their sides as he fucked him in the new position, curling his arm under the bend of his knee to keep him open and spread. His chest was pressed to Sam’s back, touched with a light sheen of sweat, and Dean pressed his face into the side of his neck, dragging his tongue along the flesh under his ear.
“Do it,” Dean breathed, nipping his earlobe before he shifted his free hand up enough to curl his fingers in Sam’s hair, giving it a tug at the base of his skull which earned a higher pitched moan from the younger man. “Come on your big brother’s cock,” he encouraged, and as if on command, Sam gave another one of those lifted, pleasured sounds, his hand working faster before he came in a series of little tremors, his hole clenching impossibly tight in a fluttering around Dean’s cock as he grunted and groaned.
Dean could see the spurts of his release making a mess on his abdomen and reaching up to his chest, and knowing that he was able to get Sam off under the precedent of being his older brother only pushed him towards his second orgasm faster than he anticipated. With another pump or two, Dean made sure he was buried to the hilt before he came with a grunt of his own, feeling his cock pulse as it spilled another hot load into Sam’s willing body.
They laid together afterward, Sam panting softly before Dean had released his leg and allowed it to fall so they could both enjoy the boneless experience of post-coiltal bliss, pressed against each other as they caught their breath and regained better composure.
Dean curled his arm around Sam’s large torso, his palm laying against his sternum with his face still against the side of his neck, letting the weight of the situation settle over him. Strangely, there was no remorse, no regret, no embarrassment. It felt familiar and comfortable.
“So brothers, huh?” Dean asked with a slight chuckle as he felt Sam wince slightly.
“God, I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?” He asked with a chuckle of his own.
“Seemed to get you going pretty good there,” he teased before Sam shifted slightly to be able to face him better, his cheeks tinged slightly in pink. Could have been from their exertions, could have been from mild embarrassment.
“You’re one to talk. Don’t think I didn’t feel you get harder as soon as you called yourself ‘big brother’.” Sam retorted before Dean slid his hand up towards Sam’s neck, fingers fitting under his ear before he leaned in to press their lips together in an indulgent kiss.
“Makes sense,” he murmured against the other’s mouth, noses bumping together lightly. “You give off ‘bratty little brother’ vibes. Someone’s gotta put you in your place.”
“That’s a stretch considering you were scared to get a beer with me in the first place.”
“Shut up,” Dean replied with a grin against Sam’s mouth, pressing for another kiss that turned into a lazy make out session. Work would definitely be interesting the following day.
↳ can be found on ao3 here. comments and kudos appreciated! ↳ part 1 on tumblr here.
