Sam and Dean had found the source of the ghost haunting the WWII re-enactment event, killing actors with the misfortune of portraying German soldiers. It was a pickled human toe, the last remains of an American G.I. killed during the war. In the campsite, after the battle of the day had been concluded, the toe was brought out as a dare, to see who could drink the entire contents of a tumbler into which the toe was dropped, like a ghastly garnish. The rules were the toe had to touch your lips, you had to drink the whole drink, and you could not throw up for five minutes afterward.

The original owner of the toe, however, was a vengeful spirit. Sam and Dean had infiltrated the re-enactment society, wearing two beautiful, original WWII service uniforms Bobby had tracked down for them (Don't ask me how, boys) that fit perfectly. They had exhausted all the leads they had and were at a complete loss, when finally their luck turned. The Boys of Company C invited them to their huge tent and asked if they were man enough to drink a Sourtoe Cocktail. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, knowing the story of how in certain places in America, people liked to challenge each other to drink a cocktail in which a preserved human toe was placed. This had to be what they were looking for, the unburied remains of the deceased man whose angry spirit was wreaking havoc.

Dean shrugged and said, "I'm man enough for anything. Bring it."

Despite his bravado, he went green when the owner of the object, the grandson of the G.I., plunked the shriveled, brown toe with its cracked toenail into Dean's glass of rum and coke, a huge grin plastered on his face. Dean shook himself, raised the glass, and drank until the toe bobbed up against his lips. The assembled crowd hooted and clapped, at which point he staggered, doubled over and pretended to get sick, knocking the lantern to the ground and plunging the tent into darkness.

By the time the re-enactors righted the lantern and got it lit again, Sam and Dean were gone. Still clad in their uniforms, they raced to the Impala, Dean clutching the gruesome souvenir in a handkerchief. They peeled out and were gone before anyone could catch up to them. Dean drove them to an empty field and pulled around behind a dilapidated red barn. He dropped the toe onto the dirt with a grimace and poured salt over it. Sam doused it in lighter fluid, set an entire book of matches alight, and dropped it. The preserved toe caught fire. The ghost of Arthur L. Petomane bellowed at them, stretching out his arms, before dissolving into nothingness and disappearing forever.

"Awesome. Let's get back and get these damn things off. Grab some Chinese. What do you say, Sammy?"

Sam gave Dean a sidelong glance and licked his lips involuntarily.

"Sam?" Dean's voice dropped lower.

Sam muttered something.

"What?" Dean said. "Speak up."

"You don't have to be in such a hurry to take it off."

Dean was silent, evaluating Sam. Reading the way his pupils widened, his mouth parted, that indefinable something that happened to Sam when something really caught his attention sexually. He straightened his cap. "You wanna play soldier, Sam? That get you hard?" A smirk teased the corner of Dean's mouth.

Sam swallowed hard, flushing red in embarrassment. "Fine, if you're gonna be like that…"

Dean's mouth twitched. "Get back in the car, soldier."

"Dean—"

"I said move it."

"Ok. Jesus. Whatever." Sam tried to play it off, but Dean knew his little brother better than anyone else on the planet, and he knew when Sam was so aroused by some new game that he could barely fess up to it.

Dean put himself into Sam's path. "Uh-uh."

Sam's eyebrows came together, confused.

"Is that how you address a senior officer, Private?"

Sam blinked, stunned. He licked his lips involuntarily.

"I'm talking to you. Is that how you address a senior officer?"

"No. No, sir." Sam sputtered.

"That's better." Dean smiled at Sam, and straightened the front of his uniform. "Now let's go."

Dean grinned as Sam walked ahead of him and opened the driver's side door for him. "Nice touch, Sam," he whispered. Sam's cheeks were red, and the bulge in his uniform told Dean he was very much on the right track with his baby brother.

Sam clambered into the passenger side, door swinging shut with a creak, and Dean steered them out onto the two-lane highway. He drove for a few moments, watching Sam squirm with anticipation.

"Take your cock out."

"What?" Sam practically squeaked.

Dean shot Sam a look. Just a look.

"Y-yes sir." Sam fumbled with the unfamiliar, period belt, undid his pants and pulled his cock out. Just as Dean expected, he was as hard as Dean had ever seen Sam get.

Dean bit his lower lip. "Now work it for me. Nice and slow. You don't get to come until you've earned it."

"Yes sir." Sam's cheeks were stained red, but he did as Dean commanded him.

Dean broke character for a moment. "I'll do this, Sam, but you gotta do it all the way. Do everything I tell you like a good little soldier. Deal?" Dean licked his bottom lip, eyeing Sam jacking himself off nice and slow.

"Yes sir," Sam said again, his voice breaking.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun." Dean pressed his foot down on the accelerator, urging the car up to 80 mph.


Dean made Sam keep his cock out the entire way back to the hotel, grinning whenever a car or big rig passed them in the other direction. "Think that trucker saw you, Sam." Dean licked his lips. "Think he liked it."

"Cut it out." Sam squirmed with embarrassment, but kept his hand moving on his cock the way Dean told him to, legs splayed wide.

Dean cocked his head. "That's insubordination, soldier. You owe me 20."

They drew stares from a family checking in as they walked into the motel room clad in their period uniforms, Sam buttoned up nice and neat, carrying their bags, walking behind Dean. Dean winked at the mother. "Costume party." Her face relaxed.

Once inside, Sam dropped the bags by the wall. Dean locked the door. "Don't take anything off. Just wait for me." Sam sat on the bed and waited while Dean went into the bathroom and took care of the necessary preparation.

When he emerged again, he was still wearing his uniform.

"Where were we…" Dean eyed Sam. "Right. You owe me twenty."

Sam dropped to the carpet gracefully and pumped out a set of pushups effortlessly.

"That looked too easy. Give me another twenty." Sam obeyed, body perfectly straight, chest touching the carpet with every pushup, in perfect form.

"Get on your knees."

Sam swallowed hard and obeyed, his service uniform bunching up.

"Straighten that up, soldier."

Sam tugged on the bottom of the shirt until it lay flat again. Dean stood over him, looking down at his little brother, kneeling before him in his soldier's uniform. A soft sigh escaped his lips. "Fucking gorgeous."

Sam ducked his head, embarrassed.

"Now take my cock out."

Sam unbuttoned Dean's trousers and pulled his cock free.

"Is that what you want, baby boy? Want my cock in your mouth?"

Sam nodded.

"Sam." Dean's voice held a warning.

"Yes sir?"

"Say it."

"Please… let me put your cock in my mouth, sir." Sam's breath came faster.

"Take your cock out first. I want to see it. But no touching."

Sam undid his trousers and tugged his cock free, achingly hard.

"Ok. Put it in your mouth. Suck it nice and slow."

Sam wrapped his fist around the base of Dean's cock. Dean shook his head no. "Uh-uh, soldier. Just your mouth." Sam let go, and placed his mouth over Dean's cock.

Dean hissed at the heat of Sam's mouth, so warm and wet for him. "So good, Sammy…" he breathed. "Jesus."

Sam looked up at him and smiled, mouth full of his cock.

"Now suck it like a good little brother."

Sam moaned at the term, his exposed cock bobbing up and down. Dean took Sam's cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. "Always did like it when I called you that, huh, Sammy…" Sam hollowed his cheeks and sucked, pulling back along the length of Dean's shaft, moaning his assent. "Nice and slow, baby boy." Dean smiled down at Sam lovingly. "We're gonna be at this all night."

Sam shivered, hands clenching at his side. He sucked Dean's cock nice and slow, just like Dean told him to, his huge puppydog eyes locked on Dean's the entire time. Dean drank in the sight, his tall, strong baby brother on his knees for him, taking his cock in his mouth all the way to the base, tears forming in his eyes when Dean held his cheeks and thrust deep, but loving it, loving the feel of Dean's cock in his throat, taking it all. "So good, Sammy…"

Sam's cock leaked slow, steady drips of precome onto the carpet. Dean unbuckled the coat's belt and unbuttoned the three brass buttons at the top, peeling it off slowly and dropping it to the floor, revealing the shirt and tie underneath. He straightened his cap. "Faster."

Sam obeyed, driving his mouth down on Dean's shaft and sucking as he pulled back, staring up at Dean, every inch his commanding officer from his leather boots to the officer's hat on his head. Dean shivered. "Christ, you're good at that. " He took pity on Sam finally. "You can touch me."

Sam groaned, and brought his hands to Dean's hips, gripping tight and sucking even harder, twisting his head, making a corkscrew motion with his mouth. He trailed his fingers down, wrapping his right hand around the base of Dean's cock, and cradling his balls in his left hand, tugging gently, rolling them in his fingers.

"Fuck." Dean cursed, snapping his hips forward, fucking Sam's mouth. "Yeah. Make me come. Just like that."

A rough moan, Sam blinking gratefully like Dean had just given him a gift, and Sam went to town on Dean, sucking him off like he'd never done before, mouth and tongue and fingers working in concert to give Dean as much pleasure as he could possibly offer, his cock dripping with precome now, hips pumping against nothing but air like he couldn't help it, his mouth so soft and wet that spit ran down his chin, doing it exactly like Dean loved it, giving Dean exactly what he wanted, like Sam always did for his Dean.

"Christ, Sam…" The shivers of electricity ran down Dean's back from the base of his neck to the small of his back, as the pleasure built, ramped up, and kicked off into a frenzy, hips bucking involuntarily, cock sliding over Sam's tongue, strong muscle stroking him, silken walls of his mouth surrounding him, Sam's moans of pleasure vibrating all over him. Dean gripped Sam's hair and came, thick and hard, jet after jet, spurting into Sam's mouth, came chanting the only word his orgasm-bright brain could remember: "Sam. Sam. Sam…"

Sam, being a good little soldier, swallowed every single drop.

Dean pulled out and smeared the last drops of come over Sam's mouth, painting them until they gleamed. He bent down and kissed him, licking the taste of himself off his lips, licking it out of his mouth. Sam shivered, reaching up, pulling on Dean's cheeks, opening his mouth to Dean's tongue, letting him take what he wanted. His hips bucked helplessly, wanting Dean so badly.

"You wanna come too, huh, Sammy…" Dean loved keeping Sam on the edge like this, desperate to come, shot through with desire for him.

"Yes sir," Sam breathed. "Only when you want me to, sir."

Dean blew out a breath, shuddering with an aftershock just from what Sam had said. "Gonna be the death of me, Sammy."

Sam licked up the pearl of come that emerged from the slit of Dean's cock.

Dean loosened his tie, and moved to sit down in the padded recliner. He surveyed Sam, taking in every inch of him in his uniform. "Strip."

Sam untied his boots first, and removed them along with his socks. He slowly stripped off every article of clothing until he stood before Dean completely naked.

Dean licked his lips, shivering at the faint mineral tang of his own come licked out of Sam's mouth. "Get the lube."

Sam took the bottle of lube off the table next to the bed.

"Get on the bed. On your knees. Facing me."

Sam obeyed.

"Get your cock wet." Sam squirted some lube on his hand and slicked himself up.

"Fuck your fist. Nice and slow, baby boy." Sam bit back on a groan as he did what Dean told him, pumping his hips forward, sliding his cock through his fingers. He fucked his fist until he was gasping, cheeks flushed, watching Dean watch him.

"S that feel good? Jacking off for your big brother?"

Sam swore, and clamped his fingers down at the base of his cock hard.

"Uh-oh. You almost came without permission there, Sammy." Dean cocked his head to the side.

Sam panted, taking a few minutes to regain his composure. Finally, Dean stood and walked to the bed. "On your back." Sam fell onto his back, eyes huge, looking up at Dean, awaiting his next command.

"Spread your legs. Wider." Dean watched avidly as Sam did what he was told. He took his tie off and trailed it down Sam's chest, his stomach, his thighs, making him squirm. He dragged it lightly over Sam's cock. Sam's hips bucked up, his cock twitching and slapping back down against his belly. "God, you want to come so fucking bad, don't you?" Again, he trailed the tie over Sam's cock. Again, Sam spasmed, desperate for more contact against his cock. "Want to come for your big brother?"

Sam's hips shot up, muscles of his thighs bunching. "Jesus, Dean. Please." He gripped the comforter tight in his hands, writhing on the bed as Dean tormented him with the soft brush of his tie over his body. "Please."

"What do you say?" Dean swung the tie forward against Sam's cock. Sam swore, thrusting his hips upward shamelessly. Dean held the end of the tie in his hand and whipped Sam's cock with it, feather light. Sam cried out, again and again, so close to coming.

"Please, sir. Please let me come, sir."

"Come for who?" Dean teased Sam with the tie, stroking his inner thighs with it, letting it brush up against his balls.

Sam exhaled through his nose. "Come for my big brother. Wanna come so hard for you."

"Yeah. You love that, don't you, baby boy. Giving it up for me. Coming for me nice and hard, all wet and messy. Doing what I tell you. Just like a good little brother should."

Sam trembled visibly. Dean knew he could make Sam come from this, come just like this, the lightest touch against his cock, calling him baby boy and little brother. But that's not what he wanted. Not this time.

He bent over and blew a soft, warm breath over Sam's cock. Sam cried out, a blurt of precome pooling on his belly. "Christ, Dean, please…"

Dean dragged two fingers through it and put it into his own mouth. "So sweet…" He scooped up more and put his fingers into Sam's mouth. He sucked on them like he was dying for it.

"Love the taste of come, don't you, Sammy. So long as it's yours or mine."

Sam nodded, sucking on Dean's fingers feverishly.

"If you're a real good boy and do everything I tell you, I'll let you have some more. All you want."

"God, Dean, please. Fucking dying here."

Dean chuckled, his eyes softening. He stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest. "Take my clothes off."

Sam rose to his feet and undressed Dean, kneeling first to unlace his shoes and strip off his socks, standing again for the rest. He removed the surprisingly soft wool shirt, fingers skimming his body appreciatively, and undid the belt at his waist, lowering the wool serge trousers and pulling them free as Dean lifted one leg, then the other. He unbuttoned the period cotton boxers and pulled them down. Without permission, he knelt and took Dean's soft cock in his mouth, just holding it there, warming it. His hands, gripping Dean's hips, trembled.

"You ok, Sammy?" Dean whispered, breaking character.

Sam looked up at him, pupils blown wide, and pulled his mouth off. "Yeah. I just… fuck, Dean. This is so…you're so…"

Dean nodded in understanding. "Do that again." Sam took Dean's soft cock into his mouth again, swallowing it to the base easily. Dean closed his eyes, a feeling of surprising warmth and pleasure suffusing him. The feel of Sam's mouth, warm and wet, taking his softness into itself, surrounding him, made him feel safe. Protected. The sensation (emotion) wasn't sexual. It was something far deeper.

Still, his body responded. His cock swelled and thickened a little, showing new life. Dean stood like that for a long time, fingers stroking Sam's hair, letting Sam just hold him in his mouth, kneeling before him. "I like this," he whispered.

Sam looked up at him, blinking slowly like a cat showing its trust and love.

"You like this." Dean stroked Sam's cheek.

Sam said yes, showed how much he liked it, by spreading his legs wider, hard cock bobbing heavy and red between his thighs, and clasping his hands behind his back, cradling Dean's semi-soft cock on his tongue.

Dean's cock twitched, struggled desperately to fill, at the sight of Sam so pliant, so obedient, so focused on Dean. "Good boy." He stroked Sam's cheek.

To Dean's surprise, tears welled up in Sam's eyes. He pulled Sam to his feet, stroked his thumb over Sam's jaw. "You're so good for me, Sam. Such a good boy. You know that, right?"

Sam swallowed hard. "Yeah?"

Dean took Sam's face in his hands. "You're perfect. I'm so…" Dean choked up. "So lucky." He kissed Sam, soft and sweet. "Love you so much, baby boy." He dropped his hand, trailing his fingers down Sam's chest and belly, skimming his cock. Sam groaned, pushing into Dean's hand.

"Gonna let you come for me real soon, Sammy." Sam dropped his head to Dean's shoulder with a sob of relief. Dean's voice dropped down lower. "Such a good boy, I'm gonna let you come inside me."

Sam's head snapped up, mouth parting with surprise.

Dean gave Sam a smoldering look through lowered lashes, and walked to the padded recliner, sat down and threw his right leg over the arm of the chair. "Now get over here and lick me open."

Sam obeyed. He pulled Dean's hips down so he was poised right at the edge of the chair and brought his mouth to Dean's center. He kissed it softly, like it was a holy act. Then he let his tongue slip out of his mouth and licked a wet stripe over it. Dean threw his head back with a groan. Sam licked him again, tongue broad and flat, worshipping him in the most intimate of ways.

Dean moaned, throwing his other leg over the arm of the chair, opening himself wide for Sam. Sam cradled his ass in his huge hands, and lapped at Dean's hole, softening him, making him unfurl and open to him. He worked the tip of his tongue inside Dean, making him gasp.

Sam sealed his mouth over his hole and sucked gently, probing him with his tongue. "Fuck, you're good at that, Sammy…" Dean panted. "So fucking good." Sam lavished him with attention, praising him with his mouth and tongue, licking into the center of him, refusing Dean nothing, his absolute love and devotion elevating an act some might see as the depth of debasement into something achingly beautiful and pure. He loved Dean like this until Dean was slick with sweat, every bit as desperate for more as Sam had been, making Dean fall apart beneath him.

"Sam." Sam looked up. Dean's face and chest were flushed, and his breathing came hard and fast. "Finger me open."

Sam retrieved the lube and slicked up the fingers of his right hand, nails religiously trimmed short so he was always ready to put them inside Dean without hurting him.

Dean groaned as Sam slipped one finger in easily. "More. Fucking more," he ordered.

Sam laughed softly. "You're bossy."

"That's cause I'm the boss. Now fucking do it." Dean smirked, somehow exuding an undeniable air of command with his legs flung wide and his little brother's finger up his ass.

Sam worked in a second finger. Dean's cock swelled and hardened to its full grandeur. "Come on, Sammy. Not gonna break." Sam fucked him harder, stabbing into him, angling his fingers until he felt that lump against his fingertips. He stroked it gently, fingers on either side of it. Dean writhed with pleasure, running his hands over his bare chest, pinching his nipples. "Fuck. Yeah. So good, Sammy." He rocked his hips against Sam's hand, groaning. Sam fucked him with two fingers, drinking in the sight of Dean, red-faced and squirming, feeling such keen pleasure because of him.

"More."

Sam slicked his fingers up again, and worked three fingers inside Dean. Dean threw his head back, mouth open, uttering "Ah. Ah. Ah…" over and over. Sam rotated his hand, pressing in until his largest knuckles were pressed against the tight ring.

"Harder…" Dean grabbed Sam's wrist and showed him how he wanted it, hard and fast and deep. Sam mouthed Dean's inner thigh and gave him what he needed, working him with three fingers. Dean hooked his legs over Sam's shoulders, held himself up on the arms of the chair, and fucked himself down on Sam's fingers, waggling his hips.

"Jesus," Sam breathed, staring in astonishment at the force of nature that was Dean in the throes of pleasure, in the state that only Sam could get him. Only Sam.

Dean slammed himself up and down on Sam's fingers, eyes locked on Sam, crying out at each thrust. "You feel so good, Sammy, feels so fucking good…"

"You want more? I'll… Dean, you want my whole hand?"

Dean swore, pulled himself off Sam's hand, dropped down onto the chair and gripped the base of his cock, squeezing it desperately hard. He shuddered and cursed, but he held back his orgasm. "Fuck. Sam." He stared at Sam in total surprise, like the idea had never occurred to him before, and he couldn't believe how hot it was.

Sam leaned over him, smearing the inside of his thigh with precome from his cock. "I will. If you want me to," he whispered.

Dean grabbed Sam's face and kissed him like he was drowning and Sam was his salvation. "Need your cock in me. Now."

Dean found himself being picked up and carried to the bed like he weighed nothing at all. His protestations at being carried like a girl died unspoken at the look on Sam's face, keen need and love so fierce it brought stinging tears to his eyes. He stretched his arms out behind his head, lay back, and spread his legs. "Fuck me, Sam."

Sam wasted no time. He slotted himself between Dean's thighs and brought himself into position. He held his cock steady and pushed into Dean. When the head, thick and wide, penetrated the outer ring, Dean gripped Sam's sweat-slick back. "There you go. Good boy."

Sam bit Dean's shoulder.

"All the way."

Sam pushed harder, moving past the second, inner ring, sliding in until he was all the way inside Dean.

"Don't move," Dean commanded.

Sam shuddered, Dean so warm and tight around him, but he did what he was told.

"Look at me."

Sam's hazel eyes met Dean's green ones. They gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment, breathing in unison, feeling how they were joined. Then Dean's eyes flashed wicked. "You like that? Fucking your big brother?"

"Goddamn it, Dean," Sam fought hard not to come.

Dean brought his mouth to Sam's ear, whispered, "Don't move. Don't you fucking move. And don't come. Not 'till I say so."

Sam shivered. "I can't. Dean, I can't…"

Dean stroked his hair. "Yeah, you can. You can do it for me. Right?"

Sam looked down into Dean's eyes, emerald and sea and jade and fresh-cut grass, took a deep breath, then another, and nodded yes.

Dean put his hands on Sam's ass, stroking it. "You fucking love it. Fucking your big brother in the ass. Don't you."

"Yeah," Sam gasped.

His hands moved to the tiny hairs at the base of Sam's neck, where Sam was exquisitely sensitive. "Such a good little brother, Sammy. Sucking my dick. Swallowing my come. Jacking yourself off for me. Licking my ass so good. And Christ, what you can do with your fingers, baby boy."

Sam shivered like he was in the throes of the flu, struggling not to come.

"You feel so good inside me." Dean undulated beneath Sam, just once, clenching his muscles on Sam's cock. Sam swore, fingers digging into Dean's shoulders.

"Tell me what it feels like, Sammy. Being inside me."

Sam panted, shaking, pleasure rattling him. "Feels like home."

Dean blinked back tears, pulled Sam into a kiss, tongues stroking each other. He moved beneath Sam, slowly. Sam gasped.

"Now fuck me." Sam pulled back and moved his hips forward. "Slow," Dean cautioned.

"Gonna die, Dean, please…"

"Slow, Sammy. Nice. And. Slow."

Sam obeyed, fucking Dean slow and deep, both of them feeling every inch of each stroke. Sam quivered, cords of his neck standing out, eyes squeezed shut, face contorted with the effort it took not to come, every motion so pleasurable it bordered on pain. "Oh god, Dean. Dean." His voice broke.

"Look at me." Sam opened his eyes and met Dean's gaze. "My sweet baby brother, filling me up so good..."

Sam sobbed. "I can't, Dean, I fucking can't, please, I'll do anything, anything you want, just please let me come…"

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's back and locked his ankles around Sam's lower back. "Make me come, Sammy, fuck me hard, hard as you want." Sam ripped into Dean, clawing at his shoulders, ramming him gloriously, brutally hard just like Dean told him to. "…fucking slam me, yeah, like that, baby boy, make me come on my little brother's cock…"

Sam threw his head back, flat-out begging. "Please, please, please…" Dean felt his orgasm snick into gear, unavoidable now, and in the second before language evaporated, he pressed his palms to Sam's face and said, "Come for me."

Sam's hips slammed into Dean, harsh cries punched out of him, increasing in pitch as his long-denied orgasm seized him between its teeth and shook him like a rag doll, hoarse sounds of pleasure torn from his throat, going past anything he'd ever felt before, so intense his cries sounded like he was wordlessly begging it to stop.

Sam's thrusts got wetter, slicker, as he came inside Dean, came more than he'd ever come before, so warm and wet inside him. Dean seized up, eyes closing involuntarily, and spurted huge gouts of come over Sam's belly and chest, spattering against his own jaw, droplets flying over his head and hitting the backboard behind him. Sam spasmed again, coming even harder, helpless to stop it, his cries becoming short, sharp screams.

Dean held onto Sam for dear life, riding out their orgasms. Finally, it ebbed, both of them gasping desperately for breath. Sam shifted, and an aftershock as strong as their normal orgasms kicked off, shaking them apart. "Jesus," Sam panted. "Jesus Christ."

"Call me Dean," Dean choked out.

Sam snorted.

From the motel room next door came the muffled sound of applause.

Sam buried his head in Dean's shoulder. "Oh god." Dean burst out laughing. Sam spasmed, the feel of Dean's muscles clenching against him setting off yet another aftershock. He pulled off Dean and toppled onto his side, palm held out in a warding gesture. "Just… gimme a second." His body jolted like he was being shocked, little shivery jolts running through him. Dean pressed his forehead against Sam's, cradling the back of his head. Sam sighed, soothed by that contact, unable to bear any more until his nervous system rebooted.

When Sam's overload had subsided, Dean pulled him closer and kissed him. "We're not done, baby boy."

Sam's eyes went wide.

"You made a big mess, sweetheart. Now you gotta clean me up."

Sam shivered, and crawled over Dean. He licked the droplets of his come from Dean's cheek and jaw, and lapped up the come all smeared all over Dean's chest and belly, moaning.

"Good boy. But you're still not done." Dean's eyes glinted. Sam read his meaning, and closed his eyes, biting his lip with a groan.

Dean lay back, cradling his head in his arms, and spread his muscular thighs wide. "Lick it out, Sam. Every drop."

Sam settled between Dean's thighs, and swiped his tongue over Dean's hole, soft and slightly swollen. He moaned at the taste of himself.

"Put your mouth on me." Sam obeyed. Dean pushed down with his muscles. A rush of Sam's come trickled into his mouth. Sam moaned, mouth sealed on the tight ring of muscle, and rubbed himself against the bed. Dean's cock twitched, already frantically trying to fill with blood yet again, as Sam lapped his come out of Dean's ass like it was the hottest fucking thing he'd ever done. Dean bore down again, and another flood of come spilled from him, into Sam's open, eager mouth.

Sam went crazy, sucking and licking, pushing Dean's thighs back, spreading him open wider with his palms, stabbing his tongue inside him, twining it around, licking the taste of himself out of Dean's ass, rutting against the mattress. He was half-hard again, and getting harder by the second.

"Jesus, Sammy," Dean breathed. Sam sealed his mouth over Dean's hole and sucked hard, demanding it, pulling the last of it out of Dean, tongue lashing at him in a frenzy.

Dean pulled free, flipped Sam over onto his back, and straddled him. He ran his fingers over Sam's cock, hard enough now to be useful. He reached behind himself, held Sam's cock in place, and sank down on it. He stroked his cock, feeling it fatten beneath his fingertips. "Gonna fuck myself on your cock, baby boy. Come all over you. Make you come in my ass again. And then you're gonna lick it out of me all over again."

Sam raised his arms over his head and crossed them at the wrists, offering himself to Dean like he was bound like that, helpless, entirely Dean's to do with as he willed. "Yes, sir."

THE END