Summary: The Impala breaks down in the middle of a rainstorm and Dean, after much tinkering under the hood, can't seem to get it running again. Sam comes out to see what's going on and just ends up annoying Dean with all his questions. The only logical thing to do is bend Sam over the hood of the car and fuck him in the rain in order to shut him up.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I did there would be so much 'brotherly' love that the show would probably have never seen the light of the day…
A/N: Written about a year ago for the spnkink_meme on LiveJournal.
When they finally left Hollowshire behind them, Dean was more than ready to admit that he wouldn't step into that shithole of a town ever again even if his life – and hell! even if Sam's life – depended on it. Sam had insisted as usual that they stay another night at the motel and get an early start the following morning, but Dean doubted he would ever be able to fall asleep knowing they were still in the creepiest little town this side of the continent.
Dean Winchester didn't scare easily, but Hollowshire and its old and creepy people made the hair at the back of his neck rise; and Dean was a Hunter who took instincts quite seriously, thank-you-very-much.
However, this presented him with a problem that was kind of driving him up the wall at the moment. It had started raining a couple of hours ago and they were high up in the mountains on a road probably forgotten by the rest of civilization. And it seemed that his baby had picked just the perfect moment to remind him that he hadn't taken care of a few problems as he'd promised he would before they had arrived at the Town of Doom. So that left Dean with the realization that he had no one to blame but himself.
He kept his mouth shut, trying to stall Sam's unavoidable 'I told you so' and the appearance of his infamous bitchface #3 (the one he used when he was acting like the smug little brother who definitely had it coming). It didn't work out, though, as the Impala started making noises even Sam would eventually pick out. And Sam could rarely say if the car needed fixing or not.
"What was that?"
"What was what?" Dean didn't have to turn his head to see Sam's eye roll.
"That noise, Dean."
"Nothing." And who knew? Maybe it was nothing, after all. He trusted his baby and he could almost believe they might actually make it to the next town over.
Key word here being 'almost'.
"Maybe we should stop and take a look at it? It's disconcerting and we're in the middle of nowhere if you didn't notice."
"There's nothing to look at. The car's just p-"
And as if on cue, the car gave a loud grumble that sounded ominously like the death rattle of a mammoth and went dead.
"You were saying?" Sam sounded more amused than anything else and Dean just hoped it would stay like that for both their sakes.
"Okay, I may have neglected to take care of a few things I wanted, but it's nothing to worry about, okay?"
"Neglected? You neglected the car? Are you serious?"
"I don't know if you noticed the town we just escaped from, but it comes close to resembling Hell on Earth, Sam, and I happen to have three scratches from my shoulder-blades to my ass!"
"Okay, okay, calm down! Jesus! What's up with you?"
"Nothing. Nothing, it's just the rain and that town- I'm fine, okay?" Dean tried to calm his nerves running a hand through his hair and then down his face. Turning to Sam he added, "let's just wait here a bit, I'm sure the rain will stop soon, then I'll take a look at the car and we head for the first motel we see. Sounds good?"
"Yeah, sure, just-" Sam looked vaguely uncomfortable which was never a good sign.
"Uh, I saw the weather forecast before we left the motel. I don't think it'll stop raining any time soon."
Trust Sammy to always see the bad side of things. Dean was pretty sure that they wouldn't have to wait more than an hour, two hours tops, and in any case it wouldn't be the first time they were stuck in the car. Sure it was getting a bit cold and it was already past nine pm, but Dean was positive everything would be just fine.
They were fucked. Sam didn't even hate rain. He liked it, most of the time, at least when he wasn't shivering and when it didn't prevent him from taking a nice nap. It was past midnight and it hadn't stopped raining at all. If anything, it seemed to get stronger by the hour and it was practically pouring so much, they couldn't see five feet from the car.
"That's it. I'm going out to fix the car now," Dean growled after what seemed like an eternity of silence, broken only by the few lame attempts Sam had made at casual conversation.
"What?" Sam cried, "Are you completely insane? You can't go out there, Dean!"
"So what do you want to do, huh? Stay here and freeze our asses off until it stops raining?"
"It's not that cold! And if you go out there you'll get pneumonia! I'm not dragging your sorry ass to the hospital!"
"I didn't ask you too!"
"Look. The rain has started lessening, I can't just sit here and wait."
Sam looked wide-eyed as his brother retrieved his leather jacket from the backseat, put it on, searched around for one of the flashlights and then took a deep breath opening the door and going out.
"You've lost it completely," he said mostly to himself, seeing as Dean couldn't hear him.
He watched as Dean fought for a few seconds with the hood of the car and by the time it was open and he was bent with his face half buried in the engine, Sam was sure his brother was completely drenched.
After a few moments Dean went back to the truck, probably to get some of his tools, and then returned to the front, a look of pure determination on his face.
Sam knew that look only too well. Eyes hard and focused, brows slightly furrowed but not enough to make Dean look angry or confused and lips forming an almost pout that made the whole effect rather adorable. The fact that drops were running down his face, clinging to his eyelashes like little pearls, plastering his hair to his scalp and making his lips seem so shiny was helping Sam to make up his mind; he needed to see this wet look from much closer.
He didn't bother putting on his jacket; he figured he should at least keep one of his garments dry. Besides, the rain had indeed started lessening and he hoped it would stop before his socks and underwear were completely wet.
"Hey," he said as soon as he was standing next to Dean, "figured what's wrong?"
"Not sure yet," Dean answered without looking up.
"Want me to hold the flashlight?"
"I got it."
It was a strange thing, really. Sam had grown up with Dean and their Dad and one of them could always be found around, under or inside the car trying to fix or improve something; or just simply check that everything was running okay. Sam wasn't completely ignorant, he knew the basics in order to be sure he wouldn't kill himself with a car, but he never had the same passion Dean had always shown.
Now watching his brother trying to work on the car, determined to see this problem through and no doubt 'take care of his baby', made Sam experience something that hadn't happened in a long while and he was surprised to find himself kind of missing it.
The cold raindrops hitting his face made him feel a bit numb, his expression frozen in something akin to awe. His worship for his big brother came back full force for some reason and Sam was left staring at Dean his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide like saucepans.
"Okay, hey, Sam."
Dean had taken off his leather jacket at some point and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, strong forearms already dirty with the grease from the inside of the car, his fingers flexing and holding the side of the car, before probing and searching, knowing and sure and careful.
His shirt was completely plastered on his back and chest, the light green seeming dark now and the rain just kept pounding on them, soaking them to the bones and it was starting to be a little uncomfortable, but Dean kept going, the determination never leaving his face, ready to do whatever he could to get them out of there and into a motel with a warm bed where they could-
"What the fuck are you staring at? If you stay here you might as well help me!"
Okay, the determination hadn't left Dean's face, but Sam could also make out impatience and slight annoyance now.
"What do I do?"
"Here, hold this for a moment," Dean said and passed him the flashlight and a key and leaned forward trying to reach something.
"Are you sure it's not something as simple as an empty tank?" Sam asked, suddenly eager to know a few things, for Dean to tell him what he was doing and why, rain and chill be damned.
Dean was not having much fun. Usually working on his baby helped him focus and relax, but usually he was dry and had more light. He also usually wasn't as desperate to get to a warm room and a soft bed and sleep for ten hours straight.
Dean was starting to suspect that Sam's sudden giddiness had something to do with his whole annoyance as well.
"Do I look like an idiot? Of course the tank is not empty!"
"Is your back okay? Maybe you shouldn't push it too much."
"Maybe you shouldn't talk too much."
"I'm just trying to be helpful here, Dean," Sam almost whined and Dean looked at him incredulous for a moment.
"Sam, you don't know shit about cars! You-"
"Yeah, I do!"
"Okay, you don't know half as much as I do about cars and right now? Is so not the moment to change this."
"But I could- Oh! Shit" Sam scrambled forward trying to catch the flashlight that had just slipped from his hand. "Uh, lemme get it," he said trying to reach between the parts of the engine to grab it.
"Stop, just stop! Jesus!" Dean grabbed him and pulled him back forcefully with a hard glare. "Don't- just don't touch anything, I'll get it."
He heard Sam sigh beside him, but he really couldn't afford to spend time on Sam right now and something was telling him he'd have plenty of time with Sam in the car as things were going.
"Maybe we should just call someone."
"Sure thing, Sammy. Why don't you walk back the way we came until you get a signal?"
"Don't be an asshole; I'm trying to think of alternatives." Sam's voice this time was a bit harder and Dean decided it wouldn't do them any good to fight, so he let it go.
"Just. Keep quiet, okay?" he said as calmly as possible while he was still so irritated.
A few short minutes later Sam started fidgeting causing the flashlight that was back in his hand to cast the light in all the wrong directions, creating shadows and shapes that were not helping Dean at all. He could feel his temper was rising again and he closed his eyes, trying to be patient. "Sam."
Sam stopped immediately, probably recognizing the silent threat in Dean's voice.
Dean counted to ten, his eyes closed, but not two minutes later Sam's voice came again, eager as ever. "Hey, what's this called? Um…it's the fan belt, right?"
God fucking damn! Sam's curious and innocent tone drilled into him and Dean could feel the blood pulsing against his temples and his hands started trembling uncontrollably and he knew – he knew – there was no way of fixing the Impala with his nerves driving him mad.
He took a careful step back and swiftly wiped his hands on a rag before bringing the hood down and closing it. He took a few moments just to breathe before he did something stupid like turn around and punch Sam in the face, so he let the rain fall on him, calm him down-
"So you fixed it? What was the problem? Do we need to- MMPH!"
Dean hadn't really expected to snap so fast, but he suddenly found his hands fisted in Sam's shirt and he was shoving him face down over the hood, forcing his long body to bend in half. They were both breathing hard, Dean's teeth clenched and fists so tight, his knuckles were turning white.
What Dean hadn't expected either, was Sam's choked moan, the tiny roll of his hips pressing back into him, his breath hot against the car and he realized what exactly their position looked like.
Deliberately and slowly he bent over his brother, making sure to press his body harder against the car, moving one arm to hold Sam's hip tight, the other pressing against his neck, keeping him down while his hips made sure Sam couldn't move or shake him off even if he wanted to. When his mouth was level with Sam's ear he whispered, low and dangerous, "Sam?"
"Shut. The fuck. Up." And then he rolled his hips into Sam's ass to make sure his brother got the point.
He hadn't planned this and he wasn't sure it was the wisest or smoothest move ever, but Sam's body was bent over the Impala, writhing and obviously willing and Dean could still feel his anger and irritation making his adrenaline levels rise, his blood pounding and running south, making hard and needy.
"You just," he said a little bit louder his voice already deep and rumbling, "don't know," he punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, his hips pushing against Sam, making him spread his legs wider for better balance, "when," his arm slid from Sam's neck, fingers tangling in the wet strands of his hair and tugging, "to shut up." His mouth collided with Sam's in a clash of teeth and a tangle of tongues, the kiss bruising and savage, Dean's teeth biting Sam's lower lip and pulling it while Sam moaned, his eyes shut tight.
"F-fuck," Sam honest-to-God whimpered, while his hand tried to find purchase on the smooth and slippery surface of the hood. He finally settled with one hand grabbing the side of the car and the other palm down and fingers splayed by his head.
"That's the point, Sammy," Dean growled and thrust forward again, his cock already hard and full in his jeans and he made sure he aligned himself perfectly so he could ride Sam's crack over his jeans. "That's what you get for being an annoying little bitch."
Dean didn't wait for an answer, he was pretty sure the only real answer Sam could give at the moment was groans and whimpers. He mouthed at Sam's neck, skin already wet from the rain still beating on them, his teeth biting over the pulse point, fingers tugging at his hair and forcing Sam's head to tilt just right and then his tongue was tracing lines from Sam's ear to his Adam's apple.
It was slow and erotic, the rain making everything else around them seem dull and far away, a false sense of privacy, and Dean could feel the need building in him, his muscles tightening, stomach fluttering and his hips rolling with more intent.
Without warning he straightened up pulling Sam with him, his hand moving from the hip to cup Sam's straining erection, squeezing, making Sam hiss and snap his hips forward. "You like that, Sammy?" he asked while his grip tightened, causing Sam to squirm with the too-much stimulation. "I'm gonna fuck you right here, Sam, right here on the hood of the car and you're gonna take it-" Dean bit Sam's earlobe, teeth tugging and then tongue soothing the flesh, "you're gonna take it and I'll have you screaming till you beg me to stop."
"Yes, God, yes," Sam's voice was broken and Dean took pity on him, tugging at the button and unzipping Sam's pants, pushing them down along with his boxer briefs and in a flash of movement his fingers were wrapping around Sam's cock.
With no lube and the rain falling on them, it wasn't exactly smooth, but Dean had long ago realized his little brother liked it more than a little rough, so he kept his pace quick, fist tight and wrist corkscrewing every other stroke. Sam's hand came up to grab the back of his head, fingers trying to hold onto the short hair. He kept rolling his hips into Sam's ass, making sure that his thighs never stopped touching the car and that thought right there turned him on, Sam and the Impala, drenched and stretched out in front of him; his for the taking.
Sam's moans were getting louder and when Dean pressed his thumb against the slit spreading the drops of precome mixing them with the rain, his forefinger stimulating the nub of nerves right under Sam's cockhead, Sam lost it completely, pleas and curses falling from his mouth, his head thrown back on Dean's shoulder, his neck creating the sexiest arch, droplets running down that Dean couldn't help but lick away. Sam's throat convulsed with each hard swallow and Dean's only thought was of Sam pushed on his knees with Dean feeding him his cock, filling that throat and choking Sam, but instead, he just bit hard on Sam's pulse point and sucked a bruise.
"Harder, Dean, so- so close, fuck!" Sam almost shouted the words and Dean untangled his hand from Sam's hair, reaching around and down, grabbing Sam's balls and grasping them hard, middle finger teasing the sensitive spot right behind them.
"Come for me, Sammy," he whispered, voice pinched low and gritty, stomach muscles clenching as his body pressed forward while his hand picked up the pace, going faster and faster, "come on, baby, come for me."
With a sound close to a wail, Sam's body spasmed, his spine arching off of Dean and he came, long thick ropes of come coating his own stomach and Dean's hand that kept moving, stroking steadily but softly even as Sam's cock spurted a few last drops and started softening.
Sam was breathing hard, his head half turned towards Dean's neck, panting hotly, almost gulping in air, his eyelashes tickling Dean's ear as his eyes flattered open. His body was still radiating heat and Dean was so turned on it was almost painful, his oversensitive dick rubbing against the material of his boxers as his hips kept moving against his brother. The friction was maddening; too much and not enough at the same time.
"Uh, Dean," Sam's voice was breathy and soft, "too much, dude," he said as he tried to squirm away from Dean's hand still moving against his cock, the palm of the other hand cupping his balls, rolling them softly almost teasingly, and it would've been hot and delicious if Sam hadn't just come.
"Hey, Sammy?" Dean whispered, the smirk on his face obvious in his voice.
"Remember how I said I would fuck you till you were begging me to stop?" the tone of his voice was pure evil and he knew Sam could feel it as clearly as he could feel his hard dick rubbing against his bare ass.
"We haven't gotten to that part yet, baby brother."
He made his point by retrieving his hand from Sam's balls and pushing against his shoulder-blade, forcing Sam to bend in half again, his long hands coming up to stretch above him trying to hold on to the edge of the windshield.
It was still raining and Sam's wet skin was so inviting, Dean had half a mind to chase every single drop with his tongue, trailing hot paths where the cold rain had drenched the back of his brother. The sight was intoxicating, really and Dean pushed Sam's jeans and underwear further down, revealing more skin that was immediately covered by rivulets of rain and probably sweat, using his knee to force Sam's legs to spread wider.
He scooped up the come cooling on Sam's stomach and trailed his fingers down Sam's crack, finding his hole and circling it first lightly and then steadily applying more pressure, but not enough to breach him. His other hand stayed on Sam's shoulder-blade keeping him down making sure Sam couldn't writhe around as much as he'd like to when the sensations became maddening and not nearly enough.
He bent down blanketing Sam's body and started mouthing at his neck, nice little nips that made Sam's flesh tingle, followed by licks and lips sucking bruises. His fingers continued the light touches and the come could not be nearly enough to provide satisfying lubrication, at least for when his dick was pushed into Sam, but it was all Sam was getting.
When he pushed the first finger in, Sam's hips bucked immediately, making the finger sink to the last knuckle in one swift move. "Fuck, Sammy," Dean almost groaned, "still loose from this morning?" It had been less than fifteen hours since they last fucked and he could feel Sam's muscles flattering around him, still tight enough to blow his mind once he pushed his cock inside him.
He kept the movement of his hand slow and lazy making sure his brother was desperate for more, moaning like he was being paid, before adding a second finger and corkscrewing his wrist making sure Sam could feel every little drag of knuckles against the rim and his inner walls. He picked up his pace a bit but deliberately refrained from hitting Sam's prostate on every stroke just to keep him on edge, crazy with need and overstimulation – Dean knew it was still too soon for Sam to get hard again.
"Dean-" Sam's pleading voice broke the silence, "come on."
"What, Sammy? What do you want?" he asked, stilling his fingers and rubbing the pads against Sam's inner muscles. "Huh? Come on, tell me."
"Just- oh God, more- just, I don't kn- shit!" Sam's words were almost slurred, not even knowing what he needed and Dean thought he wouldn't last much with Sam so willing and pliable and fuckable underneath him. He added a third finger fucking his brother hard and rough now hitting his prostate on every stroke, Sam's hole stretched around him, more than ready to take his cock.
"You're so hot like this, Sammy," he whispered, his tongue dipping into Sam's ear, teasing his lobe and biting softly, "all stretched out, so open and ready," his hips started rolling harder against Sam's thighs, trying to relieve some pressure, "it makes me wanna do all sorts of crazy things to you, baby."
Sam's only response was to meet Dean's thrusts, ass muscles clenching and gripping his fingers tight, a whimper leaving his mouth unbidden.
Dean pulled back and trailed his other hand lower, resting it against the small of Sam's back where rain and sweat were pooling and leaned back a bit to watch his fingers work his brother's hole, the rim red and puffy, glistening with rainwater and Sam's own come.
He reached around and took Sam in his hand again stroking fast and hard, forcing Sam to buck his hips against his fingers and he was pleased to find him already half hard, cock straining up hot and heavy between his stomach and the hood of the Impala. Dean's knuckles brushed against the car on each upstroke and something about that, having them both – Sam and the Impala – like this under him slick and waiting and absolutely his, made him just snap.
He pulled his fingers from Sam's ass making quick work of his fly and pulling his boxers down enough to free his aching erection and even though it was crude and not really comfortable, he spit in his palm and fisted his cock a few times to make sure it was coated from tip to root and positioned himself, parting Sam's asscheeks with one hand.
He kept his eyes locked to the point where his throbbing cock teased Sam's loose hole, rubbing a bit back and forth and he got what he was waiting for barely a few seconds later when Sam's hips tilted up and his cheeks clenched, trying to get Dean to move, to finally push inside.
"Fucking asshole," Sam's voice was ragged and breathy and clearly whiny, "move already…please."
Dean smirked and pushed forward slowly, his cockhead breaching the puckered hole and stopping before he slid in further. "I like it when you're whining like a hungry little slut," Dean said, bending a bit to hover over Sam's back, "but we're doing this my way not matter how much you beg!" Dean made his point come across by pulling out completely and shoving back in, sliding home with a sharp thrust of his hips.
The moan Sam let out would put any professional in shame and Dean briefly entertained the thought of someone hearing them, passing by and finding them fucking out in the open in the middle of the road and the rash of that thought had him grabbing Sam's hip tight and pulling out and fucking into his brother fast and unrelenting.
"God, you're still tight," he breathed into Sam's ear, "how can you be so tight? S'good for me, Sammy, so good, so tight."
It was rough and dirty with only Sam's come and Dean's spit easing the way and Dean guessed it must be almost painful for Sam the way he could feel his cock dragging against his walls, but if anything, it seemed to drive his brother even wilder, hips bucking against his fist and then snapping back to meet his every thrust. Dean shifted his feet changing the angle, aiming for Sam's prostate with each shove forward.
Sam was mumbling incoherently, words mixed with moans and pleas and it wasn't long before he felt shivers starting to run down Sam's spine and his stomach muscles tightening; all the tell-tale sings of his approaching orgasm.
But Dean wasn't generous enough to let Sam come so easily, so he let go of his cock, bringing his palm to rest on his taut belly, pushing Sam against him while he kept up his pace for a few more thrusts. And then he was pushing his hips forward and holding still, making small rotating moves driving Sam crazy until his hand slowly, oh so slowly, slid down once more and gripped Sam unexpectedly hard and he started stroking softly, his fist loose around his brother's cock and Sam was wailing, frustrated and of course Dean knew it wasn't enough. His smirk widened.
"Fuck, fuck, Dean, come on, move!" Sam's voice was hoarse and deep like he'd been shouting for hours and not just fifteen or so minutes.
"Love it when you beg, Sammy…so desperate, so needy," he whispered in Sam's ear, tongue darting out to lick him, the angle changing yet again and without warning, he pulled out and thrust into Sam hard and unforgiving, pushing Sam's body further up the hood.
"Jesus, fuck! Dean, oh yeah," Dean's grip finally tightened on Sam's dick, his fingers adopting a faster rhythm than before, not quite matching the now uncontrollable stutter of his hips and he started feeling Sam's body tremble, and decided to add a bit to the overload of sensations. He released his brother's hip, first palming one cheek and then fingers heading lower trailing Sam's stretched rim, forefinger pushing forward, almost sliding in.
With a cry and a full body shudder, spine arching and head thrown back, Sam came for the second time that night across the Impala, long stripes of hot, white spunk painting the hood, muscles locking down around Dean even when his body went limp and fell forward on the car.
"That's it, Sammy, that's it," Dean groaned when he lost all sense of rhythm, his hand keeping up the light touches against Sam's dick while his own throbbing cock twitched as he pushed his finger in Sam's hole, making the space even tighter and half a dozen thrusts later he was coming, filling Sam up, the come slicking the way for his cock to slide in and out a few more times.
He collapsed against Sam's back, letting his heartbeat return to normal, almost matching Sam's own. His hands caressed lazily Sam's flanks and a half-hearted giggle escaped from his lips; Sam had always been ridiculously ticklish.
"Hey," Sam said hoarsely, "the rain's almost stopped."
"Don't care," Dean said and yawned, reaching down to pull slowly out of Sam, "we're sleeping in the car, tonight."
"Wore you out?" Sam almost smirked but it soon turned into a groan when Dean's fingers found his hole and slipped inside, pushing the come already dripping out, back into him. "Deeean-"
"Wanna find out?" Dean growled, low and dangerous and Sam could do nothing but moan in reponse.