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Dean pulled off Sam's boots with only a little difficulty. Jeans were next, but Dean decided his drunk brother could sleep in them rather than without them. The gun would have to be removed, though. The last thing Dean needed was his idiotic brother accidentally firing the weapon. He leaned over his brother's prone body in preparation for lifting it. Drunk Sam was heavy, Dean soon realized, so he decided to simply roll him over a bit to get the gun out of the back of his pants. It worked. Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Does he have more weapons? he wondered, setting the gun on the end table.
Sighing mightily, Dean gave his brother a quick pat down to check. There were no other weapons on him, which was good, Sam did have a huge erection straining his pants, which was not as good. Sam would occasionally get a bit handsy with himself after drinking and sometimes seemed to forget Dean was in the room. It mortified Dean to even consider how much it turned him on when Sam would palm himself as if he was alone. Ripping his eyes away from the bulge in his brother's pants he flicked his eyes up to Sam's face.
The look of open lust radiating from Sam's eyes was enough to move all available blood in Dean's system to one single, throbbing muscle. Dean's gasp of surprise was cut short when Sam grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss. The kiss was drunk, wet, sloppy....and hot. Dean shocked himself by kissing back after a beat, he even found himself clutching Sam's jacket. He simultaneously wanted Sam naked between the sheets and thrown across the room for crossing the line.
Sam's hands scrabbled for Dean's belt, brushing is aching cock in the process. Dean's blood went cold at the idea of what was about to happen. He's my brother. My brother. My drunk brother. That last thought was enough to break the spell. Dean flung himself off of Sam with a firm 'no'. He took a few steps away from the bed and tried to calm his breathing. It didn't help that Sam was moaning his name, calling him back to the bed.
“Sam,” he growled, facing away from the bed. “Sammy. Stop. You're drunk. Time to sleep.” He turned back to see Sam with one hand working away at the bulge through his pants. Hottest thing Dean had ever seen...until he saw Sam's other hand. Two fingers were lying lazily in Sam's open, wet mouth. His tongue would dart out and swirl around the fingers, lips closing to suck on them slightly, eyes half-lidded shining with desire.
Dean felt his orgasm dangerously close considering he hadn't touched himself yet. Gathering up every bit of strength he could find, he went back to the bed. Before Sam could react, Dean grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them to the bed. “Time. For. Sleep. Jacket. Off.” Purposely avoiding Sam's eyes he yanked his brother up by his wrists. Once he made sure Sam could sit on his own he backed off a bit and watched him struggle with his jacket.
Sam managed to undress himself, moaning Dean's name the whole time. Other words were thrown in there, things like 'inside you' and 'feel you come' that Dean was having a very hard time not listening to. Watching him take his pants off was the most difficult. Seeing his huge cock straining against his boxer briefs made Dean want to rub one out right there and then. Instead he used every shred of willpower to tell Sam to leave the underwear on while holding up the sheet for Sam. His brother crawled into bed, tugging Dean down with him.
“One second. Gotta get undressed,” he lied. Dean pulled away from Sam's weakening hold easily. He backed up until he bumped into his bed and sat down heavily. It took a few deep breaths to calm down enough to clear his thoughts. He's my brother. Brothers don't do that. What the fuck. He put his head in his hands. Jesus, and I liked it. What the fucking fuck. After a few more tortured thoughts, Dean found his erection fading. Relief flooded through him. Ok, Ok, nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. He'll sleep it off and not remember. With that thought, Dean got undressed and tucked himself into his own bed.
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Dean woke in the middle of the night to an odd noise. Freezing in position, he listened carefully to find the source. It was from the other bed. It was Sam. Stroking. Oh god that's hot, he thought. Sam moaned quietly. His pace picked up. Dean was sure he could hear his name. Well, mostly sure. A truly filthy noise left Sam's throat and ended up reverberating through Dean's rock hard cock. Dean's thinking process stopped as he tugged down his underwear with one hand and started fisting himself with the other. He heard Sam's breath catch as he tried to come quietly. Sam trying to be quiet while soaking himself in come threw Dean over the edge. Two swift jerks and he was spurting into the sheet, trying not to call out. Dean waited for more sounds from the other bed, but it seemed like Sam had passed out again. Cleaning himself up as best he could, he rolled over and slept fitfully.
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Dean woke first. A ball of shame rumbled through him as he remembered last night's events. Rather than deal with it, he had a shower before dressing and heading out for some take out breakfast. When he got back he sent a silent prayer that Sam would be up and dressed. He was. Thank god.
Neither one talked about what had happened. Every once in a while Dean would see the pinkness rise up in Sam's cheeks as if he remembered the things he'd said and done. But he didn't say anything so Dean kept his own mouth shut.
The rest of the trip home was only slightly uncomfortable. Sam settled into whatever he was telling himself happened, Dean studiously avoided talking about anything sex related. Dean was getting worried though. The closer the bunker got, the sooner he wouldn't have driving to distract him from his thoughts. Impure thoughts. Thoughts he didn't really know were there but ones that he couldn't get rid of easily. He hoped Sam didn't notice he was half hard for most of the drive home.
When they got home, Sam put away the tools while Dean whipped up a quick supper. Dean felt like he was going to jump out of his skin so he opened a beer to calm down.
“One for me too?” Sam caught the one Dean tossed. They sat down and ate, Dean having a second beer, Sam only having the one. Dean wracked his brain trying to find a way to bring up what had happened the other night but came up empty.
“Movie night?” Sam asked shyly. For a long time Dean noticed that when they came home, Sam didn't always want to be separate for a while. Too much time spent living in cars and motels, Dean figured. He never said no and sometimes would even wake up in Sam's bed, unaware that he'd fallen asleep.
“Yeah, you bet. Whose turn to pick?” Dean ignored the feeling that his heart rate had picked up and his erection was making a comeback.
“Mine. I'm gonna go change, meet you there in five?” Sam stood nervously, bumping into the table.
There was only one TV in the bunker and it was in Sam's room. “Yep,” was the only sound Dean could muster. Tradition was that they got in their pyjamas and sat on Sam's bed to watch the movie with beer and snacks. This time, Dean changed into his bedtime clothes and went directly to Sam's room.
“No beer?” Sam asked, noticing Dean's empty hands.
“Not tonight. You want some? I can go back-”
“No, no I'm good.”
Dean watched his brother while he fussed with the sheets. Sam was fidgeting a bit, flicking his hair, smoothing the blanket, playing with the remote. He's nervous, Dean thought. Does that mean-nope. Stop that. No. He crawled under the blanket – the bunker really was drafty – and tried to calm his own fussing. He never really noticed before how tall his brother was, or how lean his legs were, or how broad his shoulders were, or how his hair danced around his face when he moved, or how little space there was on the bed with two of them. Dean's skin was electrified at the idea that Sam might brush up against him. Trying very hard to keep his breathing under control, he settled down, hoping he was able to hide how hard he was.
With both of them sort of comfortable, Sam started the movie. Dean had no idea what it was or even who was in it. Just be normal, he kept thinking. But he couldn't remember what 'normal' was. He was sure they were always under the covers on colder nights...maybe. Did he always lean his leg on Sam's? Did he ever rest his head on Sam's shoulder? What did he do with his hands? Taking a huge risk, he moved like he was adjusting the pillow behind his back while pressing one thigh against Sam's. He heard a sharp intake of breath beside him...so he left his thigh there. Sam didn't move away. Sam didn't look at him. Dean felt Sam's thigh press back a tiny bit. Dean looked at Sam and saw he was breathing heavily while staring straight ahead. He couldn't stand it any more. Before he had time to think he blurted “what happened last night?”
Sam startled. “Uh, dunno what you mean.” He shifted his weight away from Dean.
“Sam.” Dean wanted to grab Sam's leg back. Instead he put a hand midway up Sam's thigh. Sam gasped and arched his hips off the bed ever so slightly. “Sam.” Dean let his hand trail up Sam's thigh until he reached his hip, Sam bucking faintly under his touch. “We have to talk about it.” Dean removed his hand completely and clasped his hands together, mostly to stop himself from carding through Sam's hair.
Sam's breathing was ragged. “Dean. It's wrong. I just-. I don't know.” Sam kept his head lowered, hair falling around his face so Dean couldn't see him. Dean did notice that Sam kept an arm across his own lap as if to hide a raging boner. And that Sam would rut into it with the tiniest movements.
“What if...what if I want it too?” Dean asked quietly.
Sam's head whipped up and he stared at his brother. Dean's pupils were blown, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed, his chest rising and falling fast. “What if....what if I didn't stop you.”
“But you did stop me,” Sam breathed. “I overstepped, I-”
“You were drunk. Now you're sober.” He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth slightly, eliciting a soft moan from Sam. Dean couldn't believe how good his brother looked with his tousled hair, pink cheeks, eyes shining with lust, lips parted like they were waiting for a kiss. Sam hadn't moved. Neither did Dean. He wanted nothing more than to grab the back of Sam's head so he could smash his lips against Sam's. He wanted to tear at all their clothing until they were blissfully naked. He wanted to run his hands over Sam's cut torso. He wanted. Instead of moving forward, Dean unclasped his hands and took them away from his lap, smoothing the blanket over his hardon in the process. “Sammy....” he whispered.
Sam let out a grunt when his eyes dipped down to Dean's lap. “Dean...” With that he leaned in slowly, watching for Dean to pull away. When he didn't, Sam reached up and gently put his hand on Dean's jawline. Sam's lips met Dean's softly, feeling him out. Dean felt a jolt of electricity course through him from his lips directly to his cock...and he was lost. Lost in the sensation of Sam's lips pressing harder, demanding more. Lost in the feeling of his tongue tangling with Sam's. Lost in the obscene noises coming from Sam.
As their kisses became more urgent, Sam pulled Dean onto his lap. Immediately they began to rut against each other. Dean plunged his hands into Sam's hair – so soft – while Sam's hands ran up and down Dean's back, pausing to grip his ass when he could. They slid down in the bed so they were almost horizontal. Dean had to let go of Sam's hair with one hand so he could press it into the bed for stability. Now he could seriously grind down on Sam. Never had he been as turned on as he was right in that moment. Sam's cock hard against him covered in the thinnest fabric. Sam's hot, wet mouth searching and landing on Dean's. And oh god the noises Sam was making. Dean felt the familiar build in his lower belly and scrotum. He was a lot closer than he thought he ever could be without tipping over.
“Wait! Stop...wait!” Sam begged. Dean tore himself away with difficulty. Instantly he shoved a hand hard against the base of his cock to stop the orgasm. It worked, barely. “I don't want this to go too fast,” Sam panted. “Okay?” Dean merely nodded, he had lost the ability to form words for the moment. Trying to calm his breathing he stretched out beside Sam. “Okay,” Sam breathed. They both lay there for a bit, until their heart rates were less like jackhammers. “Okay,” Sam said again.
Sam rolled over to kiss Dean again. He took his time trailing his tongue around Dean's ear, sucking and nibbling at Dean's neck, planting kisses everywhere he nipped. Dean's breathing was rapidly getting out of hand again. His hips pressed up seeking any kind of friction from Sam. While Sam worked on his neck he rucked up Sam's shirt so he could paw at bare flesh. Sam took the hint, peeling off his shirt quickly so he could get back to Dean's neck. Dean ran his hands everywhere he could reach. He moaned at the way Sam's muscles twitched and rolled under his touch.
“Your turn,” Sam mumbled into Dean's neck while he fingered the edge of Dean's shirt. Dean lifted himself slightly to give Sam access and let Sam slide it over his head. Sam dropped the shirt on the floor without looking and started to slip his mouth along Dean's collarbone. In the process his hand grazed Dean's nipple causing Dean to call out. Sam immediately honed in on Dean's nipple. Sucking gently and swirling his tongue over the little nub. Dean was writhing on the bed, unable to do anything but clutch Sam's back. Every sensation his nipple was given transferred right to his cock. When he thought he couldn't stand it for another second, Sam moved to the other side. He kept his thumb on one slick little nub, swirling and pressing, while his mouth worked the other one. The world fell away from Dean. The only thing that existed was Sam's mouth, Sam's hands, Sam's erection pressing into his hip.
“Do you want,” Sam moaned. “Can I...” Sam dragged his cock against Dean's hip. “Can I be inside you?” He lifted himself away from his brother to look him in the eye. Fear flashed through Dean's eyes.
“Uh...will it hurt? You're, uh, you're big.” Dean's eyes rolled back as Sam pressed a hand to Dean's hip, a mere breath away from his aching hardon.
“I'll get you ready. We can stop any time. But yeah, it might be uncomfortable at first.” Sam lowered his head back to Dean's chest to resume licking a trail to his belly button.
“Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok,” Dean stuttered. He felt Sam's weight vanish as he leaned over to the nightstand. He rifled around for a second before closing his hand on the bottle of lube.
“First, we need to get rid of these,” Sam groaned into Dean's ear while tugging on the waistband of Dean's pants. Dean hooked his fingers in the elastic and had them off in record time.
“Now you,” Dean's voice was strangled. He watched Sam pull his pants down and free his bobbing cock. Unable to resist he reached down and wrapped his hand around Sam's hardness. A grunt punched out of Sam. He dropped the lube on the bed so he could grab Dean's ass. They wildly gripped, stroked, clawed, and raked their hands over each other as their mouths locked together. Dean began grinding against Sam again as if his hips had a mind of their own. He could feel the precome oozing out of him, making him slippery against Sam. “Too close too close too closetooclose,” Dean barely got his hand clamped down in time.
Sam backed off of Dean so he could spread lube on his hand. He waited until Dean's breathing calmed down a little before kissing him lightly on the corner of the mouth. “Ready,” he murmured in Dean's ear.
“Yes, good. I'm good. Ready.” Dean's hips were already starting to rock at the idea. Sam moved down between Dean's legs, splaying them open for easier access. He kissed Dean on the crease of his leg while slowly moving his hand over Dean's entrance. Dean let out a fantastic moan at the feeling of Sam's slick fingers curling around his hole. When Sam felt Dean relax a tiny bit, he pressed one finger up, hesitating at the first knuckle. Dean cried out and tensed up so Sam placed a wet kiss on the underside of Dean's cock. He felt more than heard Dean's guttural moan. Dean relaxed again enough for Sam to get his whole finger in. Very slowly, he started moving it in little circles inside Dean while licking at the base of Dean's erection. The distraction of Sam's mouth was enough to keep him from tensing again. Dean began to rock his hips on Sam's hand. “More,” he cried. Sam obliged by inserting a second finger. Now he could scissor them around while twisting and thrusting. It took a minute, but he found Dean's prostate. Not sure how much pressure Dean liked, Sam merely grazed it.
Dean cried out in surprise. “Wha-oh god!” Sam managed to pinch off Dean's orgasm this time. He moved his fingers away from the prostate but kept sliding them around, loosening Dean up.
“Never played with your prostate?” Sam asked in a husky voice.
“No, god, no, never, god, please, please,” Dean begged with each slide of Sam's fingers.
Sam tried the third finger, surprised at how relaxed Dean was. “Are you ready? Do you want to try?” Sam asked breathlessly.
“Yes, oh god, yes, now, Sammy, now!”
Sam lifted himself up while taking his fingers out of his brother. He applied lube to his leaking cock, moaning at how good it felt to stroke himself. If he wasn't careful he was going to finish all over Dean. “Ok,” Sam croaked as he lined himself up with Dean. “You have to tell me if it hurts, or if you want to stop.” Dean made a noise of assent as he thrust his hips on Sam's tip. Sam gasped and grabbed Dean's hips to slow them down. Very slowly, he pushed the head of his cock into his brother. There he rested, partly to let Dean get used to him, partly to stop his impending orgasm. He felt Dean thrust again so he slid in a little farther. Dean's moans were getting louder as more and more of Sam slipped into him. Each thrust led him deeper and deeper into his tight brother. Taking care not to pound to hard, Sam built up a slow rhythm, Dean following suit.
“S'ok?” Sam muttered, staring at Dean. Dean's face was flushed. His eyes were half-lidded and his mouth slack with ecstasy.
Dean nodded and met Sam's eyes. Sam looked like an animal – eyes shining, hair a mess around his face, gasping for breath, straining with the effort to hold off his finish. Dean shifted slightly causing Sam to slide against his prostate. It was too much. Dean yelled as his orgasm tore through him, shooting white streaks all over himself, his brother, the sheets, everywhere.
The feeling of Dean tightening around Sam's throbbing cock pushed Sam over the edge. With one final thrust he exploded deep inside Dean. Sam kept grinding into Dean as they rode out the aftershocks, stopping only when it became too sensitive to continue. Sam slumped over Dean, finding his mouth, kissing him deeply as he carefully exited. Dean fell back onto the bed, unaware that he'd been following Sam with his hips. Dean broke off the kiss to catch his breath, burrowing in Sam's neck instead. Sam slipped an arm around Dean and held him tight, come drying between them.
“We should probably get cleaned up,” Dean said, making no move to do so.
“Yeah, probably.” Instead he cradled Dean, stroking his arm absently while he waited for his legs to work again.