"This is bullshit," Dean says, not completely coherent, but somehow Andy understands him, and nods, in what looks like slow motion.
"How did you do that?" Dean half giggles out, watching Andy move like he's underwater.
"What?" Andy's head slumps in Dean's direction, watching through glassy eyes and lazy smile.
"You're moving all.." Dean flails his hands in the air, both arms landing back on the bed with a thump.
"Dean," Sam whines from the other side of the bed their sharing.
"Sam," Dean half-heartedly mimics, before returning his attention to the television.
When did porn come on?
"I like boobs," Andy says expressively, cupping imaginary breasts in the air.
"I like dick."
"Sam? What the hell," Dean yelps, and scrambles away, ending up face first on the floor, twitching into the motel carpet.
"Dean, Dean you're a fish," Andy grins over the edge of his bed down at Dean, who hasn't moved an inch.
"I still like dick Dean," Sam sing-songs from higher ground, and Dean groans and buries his face into the carpet.
"Hey Sam," Andy calls from the other side of the gap Dean is laying in. "I still like boobs, but I can make an exception."
At this Dean turns his head to look at Sam's face, which has gone from lazy contentment to a purposeful grin. He rolls up from the bed, step right over Dean and plops down next to Andy.
Dean twists his head the other way, nose scraping the carpet, to keep his brother in his view.
Sam has threaded his hand in Andy's messy bedhead hair, and they're trading slow kisses while a random girl moans on the television.
It's more of a turn on than it should be, and Dean presses his hips into the carpet.
Sam bites Andy's lower lip, tugging and letting go, then diving back into Andy's mouth with a slow sureness.
The porn that has probably been on for the past half hour finally registers in Dean's marijuana clogged brain, and the slap of flesh becomes the soundtrack to the makeout session Dean is presented with.
Sam trails a hand down to Andy's boxers, Andy stating earlier he had no use for pants or something equally Andy-like, and slips it under the waistband.
Andy moans, and everything is moving in that excruciatingly slow underwater motion again.
Dean tries to get up from the carpet as fast as possible, his hard on becoming an urgent matter, and something in his head is screaming to be a part of what he's watching.
It feels like forever, but he finally makes in onto the bed, eyes never leaving Sam and Andy, Sam's hand working in Andy's boxers and mouth sucking a mark on Andy's neck.
When Dean settles, Sam and Andy seem to have the same thing in mind, both of them grabbing Dean and shoving him flat on the bed.
Sam straddles his chest, eyes so close to Dean's that Dean can pick out every golden hazel detail.
Andy is working at his pants, tugging them down and off.
Sam leans even closer, mouth brushing Dean's, and Dean is ready for it, for the kisses that Andy seemed so happy to be receiving, but Sam pulls away at the last second, crawling of Dean's chest to stand on the floor.
Dean watches intently, barely noticing Andy pulling his shirt off, as Sam unzips his jeans with an uncanny slowness, and Dean knows it's not just him this time because Andy is moving at regular speed.
Sam's jeans are gone, next his that silly greyhound tee he's so attached to, and back to the bed Sam goes.
Dean whimpers when Sam stays further down the bed, watching Andy strip himself, and Dean's only remaining piece of clothing.
Andy licks up Dean's cock, and Dean's hands smack the mattress on either side of him, holding onto the covers for dear life.
He's over sensitized, drugs making his world spin, and everything feels ten thousand times better. Or maybe it's just the fact that Sam is sitting there watching this, watching Andy mouth up and down his dick wet and hot.
Sam grins, all predatory like a panther, and pulls his cock out of his boxers, pumping it in his fist once, twice, unhurried.
Dean bucks up unconstrained right into Andy's waiting mouth, his entire dick slick with saliva.
Andy pulls off, and moves further down, to Dean's balls.
Sam inches up behind Andy, reaches over the man between Dean's legs and sticks two fingers into Dean's mouth.
Dean groans and sucks the fingers further into his mouth, running his tongue between the digits, grabbing the taste of Sam off of them.
Sam smiles again, gently pulling his fingers from Dean, who momentarily chases after them.
Sam moves back in behind Andy, and Dean knows exactly where those fingers went when Andy snaps straight up and curses at the ceiling.
Dean grabs his cock to keep from coming right there, Sam sucking more bruises into Andy's neck while he writhes on Sam's fingers.
Andy gasps, pushes down, and up, Dean wishes he could see everything.
Sam's arm flexes when he does some movement, and Andy collapses over Dean, held up by his own elbows, begging Dean, "Now, now Dean,"
Sam hears and pulls his fingers free, nudges at Andy to move up. Andy does, hovers over Dean and grabs Dean's cock, positioning before cautiously sinking down.
Dean is watching Sam the whole time, Sam, who's fisting his dick and thumbing the head, twisting his wrist and moving back down, mouth open and entire body flushed.
When Andy is seated on him, Dean sits up, wrapping his arms around Andy and fucking into the tightness as Sam watches.
So close to coming, the tingling returning to his skin, a live wire just beneath the surface that he can't get rid of, and Dean hears everything, flesh on flesh from the television and his own skin, distinctive pants and moans emerging from everywhere in the room.
Dean grunts, slows down on a thrust and locks eyes with Sam.
"Sam," He all but moans.
Sam jacks himself a little faster, crawling on his knees to slide up right behind Andy and hook his chin over the man's shoulder.
Dean leans forward, snags Sam's lips and thrusts hard into Andy's willing body.
Sam snakes his hand around Andy's middle, and jacks Andy in time with himself.
Andy is grunting and groaning into the air, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sam and Dean lock lips and the kisses turn into something feral-like and lusty.
Andy can't hold out any more, clenches around Dean and moans out the only name he can.
"Tracy,"
Dean breaks off the kiss with Sam, opens his eyes and watches as Sam loses it, mouth open wide and eyelids fluttering, muttering something under his breath that sounds a lot like Dean.
Dean's dick is buried in the pleasant heat when Andy comes, and he feels the pleasant heat become an earth shattering pleasure, eyes wide open and still looking at Sam, who's staring at Dean with his pupils blown.
Dean's cock gives another heavy twitch inside Andy, spurting even more and Dean feels it like lightning down his spine and all the way back up to the tips of his fingers, vision exploding in a flurry of incomprehensible colors.
They all collapse, paying no mind to the gratuitous amount of come that covers them.
Somebody shuts off the TV, and the silence is filled with soft breaths.
At some point during the night, Dean feels a jolt of the random that comes with being high, and blurts, "I think I ejaculated a rainbow."