A/N: Fun fact: I was actually eating gingerbread cookies while writing this. Not men-shaped ones, they were little Christmas Trees, but I still enjoyed it.
"Am I going to get any of those?" Sam asked with an amused grin, watching Dean stuff the head of a gingerbread man into his mouth, crunching on it contently as he flipped through some car magazine, legs stretched out on the bed and back against the headboard while the open bakery box sat beside him.
"You're the one sitting on the other side of the room from the box, dude," Dean informed him, and Sam scoffed from his own bed, sitting the same way as Dean, but with an obvious lack of cookies.
"Yes, well, I also didn't think you would try to eat all two dozen of them in one shot," Sam replied, and it was Dean's turn to scoff, shaking his head.
"Man, it is like you don't even know me sometimes," Dean sighed, biting off the arm this time.
Sam laughed, watching Dean stuffing his face, "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should, you know."
"Said every pansy ever," Dean informed him through a mouthful of cookie, and Sam raised his eyebrows at him.
"That means when you're bitching about a stomach ache later, I can point and laugh and say 'I told you so,' right?"
Dean flipped him off without even looking up from the page, and Sam rolled his eyes, even as he fought a grin.
"Seriously, how many have you had?"
Dean peered inside the box, finger flicking at each cookie as he counted.
"Good god, gimme those," Sam huffed, setting his laptop aside and standing, attempting to reach over Dean and snatch up the box of cookies.
"Hey! Hands to yourself, Sasquatch!" Dean barked, grabbing Sam's wrist and wrestling his hand away.
"You're going to make yourself sick, Dean. Seriously, save some for later," Sam frowned at him, twisting his wrist out of Dean's grip.
"Mrs. Baker gave them to us to enjoy for getting rid of that ghost, and that's what I'm doing. And I intend to enjoy them all now, thank you very much," Dean snarked, then smirked, "And I still can't get over the fact that her name is Baker and she owns a bakery."
"Yes, you said so. About a dozen times. Half of those times to her, in fact. Still doesn't mean I'm letting you eat them all. Especially because half of them are supposed to be mine," Sam reminded him, reaching for the box again and Dean flat out bit him, making Sam jump and snatch his hand back, examining the blatant teeth marks that would probably bruise, mouth agape with shock.
"Did you... Did you just bite me?!" Sam exclaimed, and Dean looked stupidly triumphant.
"Told you to keep your hands to yourself," he said smugly, and Sam stared at him flabbergasted for a few more moments before lunging forward, scooping Dean up off the bed bridal-style.
"Holy crap!" Dean squeaked, "Sam!"
Sam swung around and tossed Dean unceremoniously onto his bed before diving for the cookie box, plucking one out and shoving it into his mouth, chewing rapidly as he darted around the side of the bed, aware in his peripheral vision of Dean scrambling up off the bed with a muttered, "Son of a bitch!"
He was making a beeline for the bathroom when Dean caught up with him, the momentum of his weight hitting Sam making him slam into the wall with a grunt.
Sam twisted, holding the box up as high as his arm would allow and bracing himself against the wall to keep Dean from pulling him down.
"You fucker," Dean ground out, trying to pull Sam's arm down to grab the box, but Sam was stronger, tightening his muscles to keep his arm elevated.
"Back off, Dean," Sam panted, very aware of the fact that Dean was contemplating kneeing him, if the murderous look on his face was anything to go by.
Dean was still trying to pull Sam's arm down, panting puffs of gingerbread-flavored breath into Sam's face and Sam decided to change tactics.
Sam enjoyed the surprised "Mmph!" Dean made when Sam angled his head down and crushed their lips together, hand on the back of Dean's head to hold him in place.
He pushed off from the wall, driving his tongue into Dean's mouth for a brief moment before sucking on his bottom lip, knowing exactly what that did to his brother and grinning triumphantly at the expected twitch of Dean's hips and the low moan.
It was all he needed to distract Dean enough to start pushing him backward toward Dean's bed, tossing the box of cookies toward the small table in the room and hoping they made it. The thump of the cardboard against wood said yes, and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for good aim with his eyes closed and Dean's tongue in his mouth.
Dean's knees hit the edge of the bed and they went down, Sam of top of him, still holding Dean's head with one hand as the other went first to Dean's hip, then slid down his thigh, fingers tucked behind Dean's knee to draw it around his waist.
Sam moaned softly into Dean's mouth as his brother squeezed his ass, both rough hands pulling Sam in tight against him as he pressed his hips upward.
"Fucking cheater," Dean panted when Sam's mouth finally left his in favor of kissing and nipping down Dean's throat, tracing his pulse with his tongue and contemplating giving him a mark to match the one Sam would have on his arm.
Sam didn't answer, choosing instead to lean back enough to push Dean's shirt up and off, resuming kissing Dean's skin before the fabric even hit the floor.
Sam absolutely loved the breathy half-sound Dean made when Sam sucked on that spot under his ear, and Sam knew Dean was one hundred percent putty in his hands by the way his brother was scrabbling to get to Sam's skin, fingers tangling in the hem of his shirt and trying to pull it up hastily.
Sam grinned against Dean's neck, giving a quick nip before pulling back, pulling his shirt up over his head as Dean got his elbows under him, sliding back on the bed and tossing the pillows aside.
Dean started on the button of his pants when Sam stopped him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them on either side of Dean's hips, swooping down to bite at the soft flesh under Dean's navel and Dean grunted, stomach muscles jumping and fingers curling into fists.
Sam released Dean's wrists to unfasten his brother's jeans himself, pulling both boxers and denim down a little roughly, making Dean grit out a harsh, "Fuck!"
Sam didn't give Dean the time to bitch about it, yanking all the fabric down his legs and over his bare feet before pinning his hips down as he sucked him into his mouth as deep as he could, Dean's back arching prettily as he made a strangled sound and his hands going to Sam's hair and digging in.
Sam hummed, the tip of Dean's cock teasing the back of his throat and Dean squirmed on the bed, biting his plush bottom lip. Sam pulled back slowly, rubbing his tongue on the sensitive underside heavily until he reached the tip, flicking his tongue over the slit rapidly. Dean's muscles twitched and jerked at the sensation, his groans and pants loud and so fucking perfect.
"Sammy," Dean moaned, fingers tightening in Sam's hair and Sam slid back down, puffing warm bursts of air against Dean's pelvis.
"Grab the lube, Dean," Sam said huskily, pulling off but letting his lips linger on the head, words pressed against the slick flesh.
"Oh god," Dean groaned, flinging his arm out toward the nightstand, pulling the drawer open so hard it fell out, and he cursed colorfully, twisting to dig around inside it on the floor until his fingers closed around the bottle tightly.
Sam gave a wicked grin as he oh-so-gently nibbled the frenulum under Dean's cockhead, nearly making Dean drop the bottle with a high-pitched whine, head thrashing against the mattress.
"You fuck," Dean cursed through clenched teeth, his fingers so tight in Sam's hair he could feel at least a dozen strands parting with his scalp.
"In a minute," Sam snarked, and Dean growled, thrusting the bottle at him.
"Just fucking lube up, asshole."
"Actually, I'm pretty sure it's your asshole that's going to be lubed up," Sam couldn't help but remark with a shit-eating grin, and Dean pulled hard on his hair, to the point where Sam's eyes started to water, yanking Sam up his body.
"I will fucking kick your ass," Dean snarled before attacking Sam's mouth, biting and sucking hard enough to bruise Sam's lips, and suddenly Sam found himself on his back, Dean straddling him with his heavy cock jutting up thick and flushed between them.
He grappled with Sam's fastenings, manhandling the zipper down and ignoring Sam's hiss of warning, reaching inside his clothes to pull his dick free. Sam couldn't help but groan as Dean started jacking him with rough strokes with one hand while the other grabbed the lube off the bedspread and flipped open the cap, squeezing a liberal amount into his palm and returning his slick hand to Sam's cock.
"Gotta do fucking everything around here," Dean grumbled heatedly, abandoning Sam's cock in favor of pouring more liquid into his palm and reaching behind himself, groaning as he pressed a slippery finger inside his own tight hole.
Sam moaned at the sight, reaching up and grasping his hips, cock twitching hungrily as Dean rocked down onto his thrusting finger, biting his bottom lip and panting.
Dean was rushing, Sam could tell by the occasional wince of trying to press too much too fast, but far be it for him to try to stop him now, not when his brother was so irate and so turned on; an explosive combination on any day. So Sam just watched, lust coiling tighter with each hurried thrust of Dean's fingers inside himself.
Sam only acted when Dean finally slipped his fingers free, reaching for Sam's cock to line them up, and Sam flipped them back over, Dean on his back on the bed, legs spread heatedly.
Sam shimmied his pants down his legs quickly, kicking them off with annoyance before hovering over Dean again, kissing his mouth hard and pushing Dean's legs up so he could press between them, the tip of his slicked cock rubbing on the outside of Dean's hole but not pushing in.
"Dammit, Sam, if you don't-" Dean started to threaten when Sam reached down to guide his dick through the tight ring of muscle, pushing slowly, and that stopped Dean's rant in its tracks, a hard moan filling the space instead and his brother's head thrown back against the bed.
Sam moaned with him as he licked a hot trail up the column of Dean's arched throat, his hot channel gripping his dick as tight as Dean's hands were gripping Sam's ass, fingers digging in almost painfully.
"Fuck, Dean," Sam ground out, thrusting tight, small jerks of his hips that left them both gasping, "Fuck."
"Harder," was all Dean replied, hooking one hand under his knee and pulling it up, shifting Sam's position and- Christ!- seeming to pull Dean's ass tighter around him.
Sam couldn't have stopped how his hips shifted if his life depended on it, accommodating Dean's demand without even a conscious thought.
"Ungh, yeah," Dean encouraged, moving into the hard snap of Sam's hips, each thrust zinging pleasure up their spines, but it wasn't until Sam hooked one elbow under Dean's elevated knee and pushed it up onto his shoulder that he was able to hit Dean's sweet spot, his brother crying out breathlessly with each rub of Sam's dick over that sensitive nub.
Sam knew how close Dean was getting by the garbled half-curses panting from Dean's lips, his brother's eyes closed, so blissed out by sensation that Sam couldn't help leaning down and kissing him, savoring each wave of Dean's moans flooding inside his mouth.
"Touch yourself," Sam commanded in a whisper and Dean whined, hastening to obey, his grip tight and fast around his dick, in time with Sam's hard jolts.
"You gonna come for me, Dean?" Sam whispered against the shell of Dean's ear, chasing the words with his tongue and relishing the low moan it pulled from Dean's throat.
"Sammy," he barely had enough air to breathe out, arching and moaning so beautifully as he came, come stripping warm and messy between them and Sam groaned at the sight, thrusting a half-dozen more tight jerks into Dean's body before he followed, his come rushing to fill Dean's passage slickly.
"Heavy," Dean shoved his shoulder demandingly, and Sam rolled to the side, breathing hard, riding his orgasm high and grinning.
He was halfway to sacked out when he felt Dean get up off the bed, staggering a little and he opened his eyes, brows drawn in confusion before he saw Dean snatching the box of gingerbread cookies off the table.
"Dean, seriously?" Sam groaned, wincing as Dean made his way back to the bed and thumped the box onto his chest.
"Food and sex are my two favorite things, Sammy, when are you going to learn?" Dean's breathing hadn't even leveled out, and already he was stuffing a gingerbread man into his mouth, falling back onto the bed heavily.
"You're ridiculous," Sam informed him, plucking a cookie out of the box on his chest anyway, and Dean shrugged, munching contentedly.
"You know, I've always like gingerbread men," Dean remarked, a couple minutes later, and Sam glanced over at him, chewing on his third cookie carefully.
"Yeah?" he prompted, and Dean smirked, glancing back at him.
"Yeah. Makes me feel like a cannibal or something, ripping this poor little guy's head off with one vicious bite, om!" Dean demonstrated with a stupid grin, biting down on the gingerbread man's head aggressively, and Sam chuckled.
"Only you would take such weird pleasure from a cookie massacre," he mused, and Dean grinned, chewing.
"And only you would be fool enough to think sex could distract me from that!"
A/N: Yeah, definitely needed to write some hot bottom!Dean. Yum.