The dull light of early morning filtered through the dirty windows of the seedy motel room. Dean groaned and cursed Sam for not drawing the curtains before they went to sleep.
'Sammy, you little fucker, I'm gonna kill you,' thought Dean as he unwrapped his arms from around his pillow and rubbed at his sleep crusty eyes. He squeezed his eyes and called, his voice still sleepy, "Sam?" He pawed at the other side of the bed for Sam but when his hand only made contact with cool sheets he grew worried. Dean shot up on the bed and called again, "Sammy?"
"Fuck," he swore, scrambling out of bed and tripping over the bedclothes and falling flat on his stomach. Dean could see that their bags were still there and so was Sam's laptop, so it wasn't like Sam left him. He kicked the sheets and comforter from around his feet and legs and stood, adjusting his boxers around his waist and smoothing them out.
He carded a hand through his close-cropped hair and sighed, scanning the room. 'No sign of a struggle,' thought Dean as he walked about the room. He walked over to the door, 'No sign of forced entry.'
"Huh," said Dean to the empty hotel room, letting out a sigh of relief, "guess he's just getting coffee or something."
Dean walked over to the dirty window and peered outside, noticing that the car was gone. His brow furrowed, "He wouldn't need to take the car, there was a 7-Eleven not even a block from the motel."
"Huh," said Dean again. He scratched his belly and covered a yawn with his other hand. A glance at the clock told him it was nearly nine o'clock. He figured he would sit it out for a little while, see if Sam was just getting coffee.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed and let out a breath, grimacing at the nasty smell it expelled. "Shit," he stood, "need a shower."
He grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and a pair of jeans and a worn t-shirt and made his way to the bathroom, pushing the door closed and setting his clothes on the edge of the sink. Dean turned the spigots for the shower and grabbed onto his toothbrush and the paste, stepping into the shower. He stepped under the spray and let the water soak into his hair before squirting a generous amount of toothpaste on his brush and he went to work on getting the fuzz off the back of his teeth and tongue.
Dean spit and opened his mouth, letting the warm water rush in and he swished it around spitting again. He rubbed some motel shampoo into his hair and quickly washed off his body, turning off the water and grabbing a threadbare towel to dry himself off with. He twisted the bracelet around his wrist and groaned at the way the wet piece of jewelry felt tight and chafed against his wrist.
He rubbed a towel over his hair and ran it over his body. Dean chucked it onto the closed toilet lid and got dressed, rolling on deodorant before pulling on his t-shirt. He stepped back out into the room and frowned.
'I was in the shower for at least ten minutes; Sam should be back by now.'
Dean sat on the edge of his bed again; worry creeping its way back into his body.
It was another ten minutes and Dean couldn't take it anymore, "Fuck it!" he shouted, standing up from the bed and stomping out the door. He was about to walk over to ask the 'concierge' of the motel if he'd seen Sam, but then he caught sight of the tail-end of the Impala at the other end of the motel.
Dean's eyes widened and his nostrils flared in fury. 'Sammy, you fucking fuck'
He strode over to the other end of the motel, a caustic remark burning behind his lips, ready to throw at Sam. However, the sight before him caused all anger and fury and worry to ebb out of his body and become replaced by pure lust.
The passenger door of the Impala was open, Guns N' Roses bleeding low and steady through the door. Leant over the top of the car was Sam, jeans hanging low on his hips and long pant-legs rolled up to his knees. His naked chest pressed against the driver's side door, arm extended and hand clutching at a huge dirty sponge, still dwarfed by Sam's large hand.
Dean leant against the wall and took in the sight appraisingly. He watched as the muscles in Sam's back flexed and relaxed, and as his leg kicked up slightly so he could stretch and reach the other side of the roof. He shifted against the wall and grinned when Sam still hadn't recognized his presence.
Sam bent down to soak the sponge in the suds-filled bucket and Dean whistled appreciatively as the denim of Sam's jeans stretched tight over his muscular ass.
"Jesus!" shouted Sam, dropping the sponge in shock. He wiped his wet hands on his jeans and then carded one through his messy, sweaty hair, "Why do you have to sneak up on me like that?"
Dean pushed himself off the side of the motel and crossed to Sam, ignoring his question and saying, "Thought you were fuckin' taken by a demon, Sam. Least you coulda done was woken me up and told me you were gonna be outside, even if I would've bitched at you," then he asked, "The hell are you doing anyway, Sammy?"
A smile crossed Dean's face when Sam blushed, "Well… you mentioned when we got here how dirty your 'baby' was and offhandedly mentioned that you were gonna drive her to a car-wash tomorrow--which would be today--so I figured instead of you paying some people to do a half-assed job of washing your pride and joy, I'd do it."
Dean bit his lip, his eyes trailing over Sam's tight nipples and damp chest.
Dean's head snapped to Sam's face and Sam was grinning wickedly at him. He cleared his throat and asked, head tilted to the side, "Why?"
Sam shrugged and bent to pick up the sponge again, "Woke up early this morning and I was bored."
Dean's mouth fell open when Sam turned back to the car and started rubbing the sponge in slow, firm circles over the windows and doors of the driver's side. Dean figured his little brother was being a tease and deliberately washing his car with sensuous movements just to get a rise out of him, and boy was it getting a rise out of him.
"Shit," breathed Dean, hand sliding over his hip to press the heel of his palm against his erection in a failed attempt to relieve the pressure. 'Sammy boy probably fucking knew I'd been thinkin' about this.'
He took a deep breath as he watched rivulets of soapy water drip down Sam's forearm.
Sam turned toward Dean again, a little half-smile gracing his features. He gestured toward Dean with the sponge, "You just gonna stand there all day staring, or are you going to help me?"
Dean leant his weight on his hip and rested his hand there, his other hand coming up to scratch at his arm, "Looks like you're doing just fine, Sammy."
Sam just shrugged and grinned, turning back to the Impala. He scrubbed roughly at the trunk of the car where the sap stains and dirty spots were the worst, deliberately spreading his legs wide and splaying himself across the back of the car. Sam heard Dean gasp behind him and his grin widened. He looked at Dean over his shoulder and sent Dean a coy smile before walking around to the other side of the car. He shut the passenger side door and started his work on that side.
Dean swallowed hard and he'd never had to do anything as difficult as taking his gaze away from the sinful sight of his brother soaping down his car. He peered interestingly down at the nails of one hand and glanced up just in time to see Sam's disappointed pout. Dean was cheering on the inside, 'Got you right where I want ya', Sam.'
Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to come up with something to say that would bring Dean's attention back to him, but when he came up with nothing he harrumphed and for the most part ignored Dean and finished scrubbing down the passenger's side of the car.
When he deemed the Impala thoroughly soaped, he chucked the sponge over the car and gave a small smile of triumph when he heard it splash gently into the bucket. Sam wiped off his sudsy hands on his jeans and brushed past Dean to the spigot on the side of the motel. He saw Dean give him a little glance when he bent down to grab at the hose as it sputtered to life and a mischievous idea popped into his head.
Dean rubbed his chin against he left shoulder oh-so-suavely to cover up the way he stared at Sam when he had grabbed onto the hose. He ground his foot against the pavement and stared intensely at the tarmac when he heard the distinct sound of water splashing on metal.
Dean's attention snapped to Sam at his little brother's shouted curse and his mouth fell open when he found that Sam had managed to soak himself from shaggy hair to bare feet with freezing water. His nipples were furled in two tight peaks and his jeans were hanging even lower on his hips with the weight of the water.
Sam grinned lop-sidedly at Dean and said absently, "My bad."
Dean couldn't handle Sam's teasing anymore. He let out a feral growl and in two bounds he had a hand clenched in Sam's hair with Sam pressed roughly against the hood of the Impala. He nipped at Sam's ear and whispered huskily, "Always a goddamn little cock tease, Sammy."
"Mm," agreed Sam, grinding his ass back against Dean's prominent erection, "only for you, Dean."
Dean gave Sam's ass a little swat and rasped in his ear, "Bet your ass only for me."
Sam pressed back against Dean again, anticipation and want weighing down his words, "You gonna fuck me or what?"
Dean pulled away from Sam's body and took a step back, "Hell no."
Sam shot up from the car, "Excuse me?"
Dean picked up the hose and pressed it into Sam's hand, "Not until you finish washing my car, bitch."
Sam frowned and gestured at Dean's crotch, "But Dean…"
"Better get to washing or else there'll be soapy streaks on my girl," said Dean, patting the roof affectionately.
Sam grumbled about Dean being the cock tease but he pressed his thumb against the nozzle of the hose and set about spraying off the car. There was a particular sap stain on the trunk of the car that was being stubborn so Sam forced his thumb into the nozzle of the hose to get the water to spray harder and he just ended up getting himself soaked again.
"Fuck!" he shouted, dropping the hose on the tarmac and wiping the water out of his eyes, though he did smile when he realized the sap stain was gone.
Again, Sam's shouted curse pulled Dean's attention to his little brother and his jaw dropped, covering his desire with snark, "Jesus Christ, Sam, ain't ya' ever worked a hose before?"
"Oh, fuck you, Dean," replied Sam, bending down and grabbing the hose again. He got fed up with his older brother when a smirk passed over Dean's features and he pursed his lips and brought the hose to waist level and thumbed the nozzle, effectively drenching Dean with freezing water.
Dean gasped and flapped his arms to get the water droplets off. He shook out his hair, sending droplets of water flying and he shouted, "Sammy, you little bitch!"
Sam just laughed and sprayed at Dean again.
"Oh, you're askin' for it now, Sasquatch," growled Dean knocking the hose to the ground and pinning Sam against the hood of the car again. He bit the back of Sam's neck and whispered roughly in his ear, "Take your pants off."
Sam whined when the hot weight of Dean against his back disappeared. He grinned when he heard Dean curse and mutter 'where the fuck is the lube?' "S'in the back seat!" called Sam and his grin widened when, through the windshield, he saw Dean sprawl over the front seats to search on the floor in the back.
Dean shouted triumphantly when he found the familiar tube and he set it on the hood next to Sam's shoulder and was back leaning over Sam's willing body. "Sammy," he growled, tugging on the waistband of Sam's jeans, "You didn't do as I said."
Sam shivered at Dean's authoritative tone. "I'm sorry, Dean," he gasped when Dean bit down on his shoulder, "I was distracted.
Dean raked his nails up Sam's sides and breathed in his ear, "Oh yeah? By what exactly?"
"You," replied Sam quickly, "bent over the seat looking for lube. God Dean, your ass looks so hot in these wet jeans." He reached back and fingered the button of Dean's pants.
Dean hummed and rubbed himself against Sam's ass, "'spose I can forgive you, then. But I do want you out of these jeans now." He leant back and thumbed the button of Sam's jeans open and pulled down the zipper. He stood back and his eyes raked over Sam's exposed cheeks and thighs as his little brother shimmied out of his pants and underwear.
Sam left them pooled heavily around his ankles and moved to lean back over the hood but Dean was there, grabbing onto his waist and saying, "All the way off, cowboy."
Sam laughed as he bent down to pull the water sodden denim off his feet, "Cowboy, Dean? That's a new one." He let them drop back to the ground and Dean pressed on his lower back to get him to lean against the hood again.
Dean ignored the comment and carefully kicked Sam's legs apart, groaning appreciatively when Sam's entrance was exposed. Dean pulled off his t-shirt and threw it god-knows-where and quickly maneuvered out of his jeans and boxer-briefs.
Sam moaned impatiently and pumped his hips back against the air and urged Dean on, "C'mon, c'mon, hurry up and fuck me, De."
Dean grinned as he reached for the tube of lube, "De? I think I like the sound of that, Sammy." He flipped the top of the lube and slicked up two fingers with the thick substance before stepping closer to Sam and swirling his finger over Sam's puckered flesh.
"Yes," hissed Sam as one of Dean's fingers breached his body. He thrust wantonly back against Dean's digit and murmured, "Mm, love it when you fuck me with your fingers, Dean."
Dean pressed his finger in and out of Sam, swirling it in small circles before pulling it out and adding a second. He worked the two fingers, swirling, and scissoring, and curling them until he found Sam's prostate. Dean could tell he'd found his goal by the little hitch in Sam's breath and by the way Sam pressed eagerly back against his hand. He splayed himself over Sam's back and licked at the spot just behind Sam's ear and asked smoothly, "Tell me what it feels like, Sammy."
"Dean," drawled Sam, "I-I can't--God, so good!--Jesus, it feels like--fuck!" and Dean was adding a third finger, "l-like m'burnin' up from the inside out. Like--nngh--like little bolts of lightning are shooting through me and going straight to my cock."
"Yeah?" asked Dean, pulling his fingers from Sam's body and drizzling lube onto his weeping prick.
"Yeah," agreed Sam, panting against the hood of the Impala.
Dean slid the head of his cock up and down the crease of Sam's ass and he groaned, "Brace yourself and relax, Sam."
Sam nodded and hauled himself up onto his hands, his head hanging limply between his hunched shoulders. He took a deep calming breath and said, "M'ready, De, just do it."
Dean rubbed soothing hands along the firm globes of Sam's ass before taking hold of his glistening erection and pushing his hips against Sam's hole. He chewed at his bottom lip as he sank into the overwhelmingly tight heat of Sam's body and pressed his forehead between Sam's shoulder blades when he was balls-deep in his brother.
Both Winchesters sighed contentedly, the familiar warmth of each others bodies and the intimate connection a welcome comfort.
For a while Dean didn't move, happy to just stay seated in Sam, complacent just to be rubbing his hands along Sam's sides.
But then Sam was clenching around him, pushing his hips back against Dean's and Dean was stoked into action.
Dean swiveled his hips a few times, earning soft moans from Sam, before he was pulling out and sliding back in.
Sam grunted with every one of Dean's deep, powerful thrusts and Sam was enthusiastically meeting every thrust, egging Dean on, "C'mon, old man, know you can fuck me harder, De." Sam hissed when Dean growled and switched the angle and easily pounded into his prostate, fucking into him just like Sam demanded of him, "JesusMaryandJoseph, right fucking there, Dean--oh fuck!"
Dean practically fucking roared as he leant across Sam's back and wrapped his arms beneath Sam's armpits and grasped harshly at Sam's shoulders, "Fucking hell, Sammy, such a little slut for me. You love being stretched tight around my cock, love being fucked so hard you won't be able to fucking see straight so much as walk it; love it when I make you mine."
"Mm," agreed Sam, "m'yours, Dean, always yours."
Dean put more weight against Sam in an attempt to fuck harder into his little brother and the extra pressure caused Sam's already shaky arms to fall out from under him and Sam faceplanted into the hood of the Impala. The change in angle allowed for Dean to drive deeper into Sam and Dean howled with the intense pleasure currents it sent through his body. He could feel his orgasm quickly approaching; little rainbow spots dancing behind his eyelids, his body shaking with effort, balls tightening and drawing close to his body. Dean licked at the base of Sam's neck, sucking and marking his baby brother, claiming him.
"Touch yourself for me, Sammy. Want you to come for me while I'm inside you; feel you clenching and spasming around my cock; your ass hungrily taking all I have to offer."
Sam's arm was numb from the weight of his and Dean's body bearing down upon it as his hand found his cock. The sensation was weird, but not unwelcome; he felt the pleasure building low in his belly but it was as if some phantom force was jerking his cock and not his own hand.
Dean was panting in Sam's ear now, "Does this get you hot, Sammy? Fucking out in the open, just knowing that somebody could catch as at any moment?"
Sam whimpered and wanked himself harder at the feel of his impending climax; his toes curled and he felt the beginnings of numbing pins and needles in his legs.
Dean couldn't help but suck that sweet whimper right out of Sam's mouth. He nudged at Sam's head with his cheek and when Sam turned toward him he bit and sucked and licked at Sam's lips almost violently, choking off a groan when Sam's tongue forced its way inside of his mouth. He pulled away so fast that that there was an almost pornographic string of saliva still connecting their mouths.
Dean knew his eyes must be wide and dilated beyond repair but he caught Sam's eyes and forced his own wider as he moaned out, "Shit, think somebody's coming 'round the corner…"
Sam tensed and cried out Dean's name as he spilled viciously over his hand, so hard that his release actually sprayed back against the hood of the Impala and over his thighs and some even blew back on Dean's balls.
"Christ, Sammy, you kinky fucker," laughed Dean, which quickly turned into a low drawn out groan as Sam's body did just as he predicted; his internal muscles clenching and spasming wickedly around his cock, wrenching his orgasm and breath out of him.
Dean collapsed onto Sam's back and panted heavily against Sam's shoulder and Sam reached back with his come covered hand to stroke back through Dean's hair.
"God, Sam, that's sick," but Sam knew that Dean secretly loved it if the small smirk he felt against his back was anything to go by.
Sam just grinned and worked his hips back against Dean, loving the way Dean hissed as his ass gripped and pulled at Dean's tender prick. A laugh escaped his mouth on an exhale when he felt Dean's cock give one last feeble spurt.
It was Sam's turn to hiss as Dean placed both of his hands at the small of his back and pulled out; Dean's cock catching on the sore and used muscles of his ass. He whimpered slightly when Dean finally managed to pull out.
Dean spun Sam around so Sam's back was pressed against the edge of the hood and he pressed his lips to Sam's in a slow, gentle kiss; just a press at first before he angled their heads and licked at the seam of Sam's lips.
Sam opened up to Dean, allowing his brother's tongue to sweep in and massage sensuously against his own. He loved these kisses; sweet and loving just after a round of intense, hot, hard, raw fucking.
Dean pulled away and Sam breathed out, "Jesus."
Dean grinned crookedly and kissed Sam chastely, "I'd say that just about sums it up."
Sam swallowed hard and he was so relaxed and boneless that he didn't even move when Dean gently told him to put his clothes back on.
Dean rolled his eyes at Sam after he'd pulled his own jeans up from around his ankles. He bent down and gathered Sam's jeans and bunched them up to ease their way onto Sam's legs.
Sam just nodded and barely managed to lift his foot the inch or so Dean needed to get the still sodden denim up and over his foot; it took even more effort for him to lift the other leg. He smiled satedly at Dean when Dean had re-clasped and zipped up his jeans and stroked his hand along Dean's cheek, "Always so good to me, De. Love you."
Dean kissed the inside of Sam's wrist and replied without hesitation, "Love you, Sammy."
"So… guess I'd better get the bucket cleared so we can grab a shower."
"Nuh-uh," said Dean, shaking his head.
Sam frowned, "Why not?"
Dean grabbed the hose and pressed it into Sam's hand before placing his hands on Sam's hips and turning him to face the Impala again.
Sam's eyes widened when he caught sight of the huge come stain splattered against the hood of the car.
"You didn't finish the job, Sammy. You're a Winchester and Winchesters don't do half-assed jobs. So…" Dean bit the lobe of Sam's ear, and offered a little swat to Sam's ass, "clean it up." After a second, "I'm gonna grab a shower."
All Sam could do was stand slack-jawed as he stared after Dean when his brother smirked and gave him a cocky little wave. Sam was already spraying the come off the car when he shouted after Dean, "Jerk!"