A/N: Yeah, really getting late with these, but real life is interfering. Not to mention the fact that this one fought me tooth and nail at first, and I needed a day or so to shake it out all 2,000+ words of it. Hopefully it was worth it, though, as I rather like how it turned out, in the end.
It was probably somewhere in the vicinity of five o'clock in the morning when Dean woke up, curled up in the front seat of the car and shivering. He wasn't entirely sure because he didn't bother to check, but he figured it's a pretty good estimate.
All he knew was that it was cold, and way too early to be reasonably awake. So one bleary moment later, he found himself hooking a leg over the backrest to climb into the backseat with Sam, who was laying flat on his back with one of their duffels as a pillow.
"Ngh, Dean," his brother whined as Dean rearranged him, nudging his legs to the side, where they had been hanging over the seat onto the floor anyway, and kneeling in the empty space they left.
"What're you doin'?" Sam slurred sleepily as Dean laid down over him, tucking his arms under his brother's warm body, and Dean shivered, a little exaggeratedly, making Sam sigh.
"I told you we need to invest in some blankets for the car," he said, shuffling them around a bit, and Dean snorted.
"Something else we have to wash all the time? No thanks."
Sam just sighed again as they finally settled, Dean ending up more pressed against Sam's side, his shoulder against the seat, than directly on top of him, allowing his brother to breathe without Dean's weight flattening his lungs.
"God, so needy," Sam muttered into his hair, wrapping his arms around him snugly, and Dean didn't hesitate to pinch his side, making Sam grunt and twist.
"Ow, dammit!" Sam cursed, reaching up to flick Dean's ear in retaliation, "Jerk."
"Bitch," Dean answered automatically, tightening his arms around Sam firmly and pressing his face into the crook of his neck, "Knock it off and go to sleep, it's too early and too fucking cold for this shit."
"You started it," Sam mumbled under his breath, even as he cupped a warm hand on the back of Dean's neck, thumb stroking along his hairline briefly before stilling, like a living scarf keeping his neck from the chill.
"Yeah, well, I'm also finishing it, go to sleep."
Sam just shook his head with a sigh, but didn't comment, and it wasn't long before they drifted back to sleep.
* * *
By the time Dean next woke up, the sun had crept over the horizon, and the first spills of light were making their way through the car windows. He opened his eyes blearily, the warmth radiating off Sam's body a pretty good compensation for the way his legs had fallen asleep, curled at a weird angle against the door.
The windows were completely frosted, making it feel a little like they were sleeping inside a snow globe or something, the sunlight giving the interior of the car a warm glow.
Dean gave a small smile as he was suddenly struck with the memory of him and Sam doodling in the frost when they were kids, dinosaurs and bat symbols and anything else that struck their fancy, which annoyed their father to no end.
He always knew it was them, of course, it's not like they tried to hide it, but they inevitably ended up being the ones cleaning the smudged windows later, bottle of Windex for each of them while their father loomed, making sure they did a proper clean; both inside and out, while they were at it.
The only time in Dean's memory that they were allowed to get away with it was Christmas, on the rare occasions their father was with them for it, when he and Sam would draw Christmas trees and Santas, their only decorations for the holiday. He remembered how they would watch the drawing fade as the heating kicked in, defrosting the windows and erasing their work, at least until the windows would fog again and their smudged fingerprint drawings would reappear in the condensation.
Dean was drawn out of his memories when Sam stirred under him, his deep sigh ruffling through Dean's hair as Sam slowly pulled out of sleep.
Dean felt Sam's lips press to his forehead sleepily, a small hum rumbling through his chest.
"What time is it?" Sam asked, stretching as much as the small back seat would allow, and Dean indulged in enjoying the feel of Sam's muscles coiling and tightening under him before answering.
"No idea. Probably around 7 something, I'm guessing, if the light's anything to go by," he answered, and Sam sighed, reaching up to scrub a hand over his face.
"We should hit the road."
"Mm-hm," Dean nodded, but made no effort to move, titling his head toward Sam's neck instead and laying a trail of kisses up it leisurely.
Sam chuckled, running his hands over Dean's back warmly.
"What're you doing?" Sam grinned, "This doesn't feel like hitting the road to me."
"That's 'cause I'm feeling you up instead," Dean hummed in answer, and Sam smirked.
"Yeah?" he answered, "'Cause this feels a lot more like cuddling, you know."
"Cuddling? Yeah right. Totally not cuddling," Dean snorted, sliding his hand up Sam's shirt, tracing the edges of his ribs and Sam hummed agreeably, cupping Dean's face to tilt his mouth up to meet his.
"Totally," Sam murmured against his lips, and Dean smiled, pressing them together in a chaste, gentle kiss at first, before flicking his tongue against Sam's bottom lip. Sam parted his lips eagerly in return, giving a small groan as Dean tilted his head to deepen the kiss, sliding his hot tongue to curl behind Sam's teeth.
Dean traced his fingers down Sam's side again, abandoning the warmth under his shirt in favor of cupping the front of his jeans, Sam's morning wood firm under his fingers.
"Dude," Sam chastised, "We're on the side of the road."
"The windows are frosted up and it's the asscrack of dawn, no one's going to see us."
"Dude, we're way too big for handjobs in the freezing backseat of the car," Sam supplied instead, and Dean smirked, sliding his hand lower to press under the cleft of Sam's ass, heel of his palm rubbing behind Sam's balls and Sam gave a small gasp.
"Who said anything about handjobs?" he said innocently, and Sam bit his lip, clearly torn.
Dean smirked, wiggling his way into a kinda-upright position over his brother, freeing his hands to go to Sam's jean fastenings, undoing them with practiced ease.
"Why do I let you talk me into these things?" Sam muttered, and Dean smirked, finally tugging Sam's pants down.
"Because I give great head?" he offered, before leaning down and doing just that, taking Sam's half-hard cock in his mouth with a low hum.
Dean worked him over steadily, sucking long, drawn out tugs on his cock, the pointed tip of his tongue flicking against the sensitive underside.
Sam took a shaky breath, one hand gripping Dean's shoulder as the other cupped the back of his head, long fingers threading through Dean's short-cropped hair.
"Dean," Sam panted as Dean concentrated on the tip, rapid sucks contrasting with the slow, tight strokes he fisted along the rest of Sam's shaft, "Jesus, that's good."
Dean smirked, gave a low moan for show that had Sam gripping his jacket tighter between his fingers satisfyingly.
He waited until Sam's hips were undulating up into the heat of his mouth and the press of his fingers against the back of his head bordered on insisting before pulling back, reveling in Sam's short groan of protest.
"Turn over," Dean said gruffly, unzipping the side pocket of the duffle under Sam's head, fishing out the lube as Sam wiggled around onto his stomach. Dean deliberated over the condoms for a moment before grabbing one, thinking of the miles to go before they hit civilization.
Sam tried to pull one leg onto the seat, and Dean raised his knee to let him, nearly falling over when the feeling of pins and needles suddenly hit his calves.
"Alright?" Sam asked, turning his head and Dean nodded, willing his other leg to lift and allow Sam's to move to the outside of his knees.
"Yeah, my legs fell asleep," Dean grumbled, and Sam started laughing, pressing his face into the duffle bag to muffle it.
"Most romantic car sex ever," Sam teased, and Dean tugged his pants over his hips before giving his ass a quick smack.
"Shaddup," Dean ordered, thumbing open his own jeans and shoving them down, his cock springing free. Dean gave it a few hard tugs before ripping the condom open with his teeth and sliding it on, then popping the cap on the lube and squeezing a liberal amount onto his fingers.
Sam was still chuckling when Dean twisted a finger inside him, effectively halting his laughter with a tight groan, back flexing.
Dean smirked at that, curling his finger and rubbing slowly over Sam's sweet spot, watching his brother's fingers clench on the edges of the duffle bag tightly and his breathing go ragged.
By the time Dean had worked him up to three fingers, Sam was shuddering and moaning, and Dean knew that precome must be dripping from his cock, sticking to the leather and the thought made his dick throb.
Dean's pinkie was flirting with the rim when Sam groaned his name, pushing back, and Dean knew he was at the end of his rope, dying for Dean to slick himself up and slide inside.
"You want it?" Dean asked in a murmur, and Sam nodded fervently, groaning when Dean withdrew his fingers and squirted more lube onto them, using them to slick up his cock quickly.
"Still can't believe you roped me into this," Sam panted, nearly losing his footing on the car's floor as Dean lifted his hips slightly to get a better angle, pressing his cock against Sam's entrance.
"You love me," Dean grinned, guiding himself inside with a steady push.
They groaned in unison when he was fully seated, Sam's tight muscles fluttering around him deliciously.
He set a tight, churning rhythm, pressing against Sam's back and using his chin to push down the collar of Sam's jacket, kissing and nipping at the back of his neck.
Sam moaned, grinding his hips back and Dean panted hot against his neck, sliding a hand under him to grip Sam's leaking cock, stroking in tandem with his thrusts.
"Come on, Sammy," Dean breathed, "come on."
"Ngh," Sam grunted, releasing one hand from the duffel to grip the door instead, using it for leverage to push back, "Dean!"
Hearing the strangled sound of his name from Sam's mouth was like an electric shock of lust down his spine and Dean groaned, his thrusts speeding up as his orgasm threatened to overwhelm him. He concentrated his hand on the tip of Sam's cock, calloused palm rubbing the head in a tight grip that was guaranteed to make Sam come.
Dean felt the exact moment when Sam tipped over the edge, his brother's body clenching around him and a ragged cry pulled from his throat as Dean's palm filled slickly with white.
Dean bit into Sam's flesh as he came a moment later, teeth digging into the curve where his neck met his shoulder and a hard grunt forced from his throat.
Sam gave a small groan, grinding his head against the duffel bag and Dean smirked, licking the spot on Sam's neck where there was sure to be a bruise.
Sam tilted his head up, startling Dean with a sudden laugh.
"We seriously defrosted the windows," Sam laughed, and Dean looked up too.
And damn if he wasn't right, the frost on the windows reduced to water droplets and condensation.
"Ha!" Dean smirked, tilting his head in to kiss Sam's neck before carefully pulling out, setting back on his heels with his head bowed to keep from hitting the ceiling.
"Well, like you said, better hit the road," Dean remarked, slipping the condom off and shoving it into an empty chip bag from under the front seat. He grabbed some loose napkins from under there too, while he was at it, wiping the spunk and lube off his hands before refastening his jeans quickly, "And clean off the seat, why don't you?"
Sam gave him a shove as Dean swung his leg over the front seat, climbing back into the driver's side bonelessly, body buzzing contently with post-sex endorphins.
"Jerk," Sam threw out from where he was still laying face down in the back seat, reaching to the floor to pull out a handful of napkins to wipe the leather down under him. He barely bothered to throw the napkins aside and pull his jeans up over his ass before settling back down again, arms tucked under his makeshift pillow.
"You going back to sleep?" Dean asked incredulously, angling the rearview mirror down to look at his brother before starting the engine, the heat flooding on and blasting away the fog still clinging to the windows.
"Absolutely," Sam nodded, snuggling his face against the duffle bag contently, "Wake me when you stop for breakfast."