Title: I Hear You
Warning: Wincest and some PWP - kinda.
Prompt: Sam gets off on hearing Dean and a girl having it off.
Song: Love Bites – Def Leppard
Disclaimer: Don't own, obviously
Notes: This was thought of at an ungodly hour while texting FreekyDisaster18 and it shamelessly includes myself, FreekyDisaster18 and JewDrop91 :-)
Review if you like it, if you don't get of my profile before I cock my shotgun ;)
DEAN
At the bar Dean sipped a Jack Daniels, eyeing the customers. Sam had gone home, insisting he had work to do, and he shied away the minute a cougar put her hand on his thigh. Dean chuckled to himself at the thought. Oh Sammy. He hummed along to a Dire Straits song that pumped along the speakers, when she caught his eye.
Sitting with two other girls there was a small brunette. One of the friends was short like her with similar cropped hair, and the other – taller - had lovely ginger curls that Dean could lose his hands in. But his eyes drifted back to the small brunette who was drinking shots with the ginger haired girl, and they high-fived at what could be a fourth shot, he wasn't sure. She wore an AC/DC t-shirt and her short hair had bangs that went across her eyes. Like Sam's. Huh. She was built stocky, and a smaller rack than what he normally goes for, but she looked a bit new, different and kinky. Dean caught her eye and she looked down at her shot, and then back up with a smirk. The ginger haired girl whispered something and he saw the brunette lick her lips.
'They're not local, drifted in a couple of weeks ago' the bartender said lowly, making Dean jump. The bartender was older than he was, in his forties, and he nodded over to the booth of girls.
'Cheers, can I get a JD for the brunette in the band t-shirt?' he asked and he wrote on a napkin. 'Nice shirt :)' and the guy put it under her drink when he brought it over. Dean downed his own glass and winked when he noticed her read the napkin and look up. She winked back, with a nod of appreciation. It wasn't long after there was a push and shove between the two friends of the brunette, egging her on, that the chick got up and walked over. She put herself next to Dean, and leaned on his shoulder.
'Hi there' she said, and Dean was shocked. English accent, oh Sam where are you right now?
'Hey, I'm Drake' he smirked and she held out a hand.
'Michelle. Where's your friend?' she asked.
'He uh, y'know, didn't feel to good'
'Shame. You feeling good Drake?' and Dean could swear it was never this quick.
'I'm pretty cool, yeah. You're not from around here so what brings you to the cosy town New Birmingham?' he asked, and she sipped his Jack Daniels.
'Keeping on the low down and making new friends' she answered.
'Well you've already made one, but aren't you're friends going to be a little lonely?' he asked, his eyes drifting to the two girls, who were chatting and the other brunette saluted him, before getting back to the conversation.
'They'll be okay, unless you're saying you can handle all of us?' she said biting her lip. Dean actually blinked for a moment. He did not expect that. Wow. He was going to lie, but a voice in the back of his head – sounded like Sam or Missouri – told him just to go with what you've got.
'You seem like a wild card enough on your own' and he raked his eyes up and down her body. She blushed. Dean looked at the clock on the wall, it was 11.42. 'I'll meet you out front in ten minutes' he brushed his knuckles against her warm lips. With that, he hopped off the stool and left the bar. The cool hair shimmied across his hair, and Dean took out his phone texting Sam in the process of walking to the Impala.
Got a chick coming back. You okay?
A moment later the reply came through with: Yeah, just don't be too loud.
He had an urge to say that it wasn't him that was loud, but Sam would probably go all prissy. Dad was away, and they had booked in with that week-to-week hotel while he was gone. He leant on the Impala and waited a bit, until he saw her come out. Her eyes widened at the sight of the car, and Dean knew he was in for something good. It worked on every girl, Sam had even said: Are you sure it isn't just the car? So Dean had chucked the candy apple he was eating across at his brother. Bitch.
He pushed the girl – Michelle? Michelle – against the frameworks and kissed her. He knew that most chicks had to be opened up and slowly undone with soft caresses. Not this one. She had her hands on his chest in seconds, but she wasn't a slut. Just knew what she liked. Sam would be proud of him.
It didn't take long after driving back to the hotel, where she had kissed and bit his neck, to open the door and slip her inside. It was quite, so either Sam was asleep or just trying hard not to disturb. She moaned into his mouth, and he got his hands under her shirt. He pulled her lightly towards his bedroom, and she was attached to him the entire way, and when her knees legs hit the bed she tumbled backwards, laughing, and therefore getting Dean on top of her. He ground his hips when she wrapped her legs around his waist.
SAM
Sam had got the text about Dean and some girl had had picked up at the bar, he'd replied as quickly as he could. He had heard the door open and close, he was trained y'know, but at least Dean was keeping it down. Sam sat on his bed with Self Defence chapter of a Law book open at his lap. Sam had written on the side in pencil 'does not apply to supernatural creatures', which he rubbed off feeling about five years old. If he was honest with himself, he couldn't be bothered to do any work. He could hear the fumble from the next room, but he tried not to think about it. That was probably the one normal thing about his and Dean's set up, Dean was the brother was always bought girls home, and Sam wasn't.
He could just picture the girl Dean had bought back. She'd be five foot five or a bit taller, blond or redhead and got a double D rack. Yeah that pretty much summed his brother's type up to a 't'. Sam rolled his eyes at himself. Girls loved him, and seemed to go on heat mode when around him, that was unless Dean was out of his league. 'Cause with every guy, some girls are going to reject them, that was just fact. Dean had a habit of getting shot down by the smarter ones. Heh. They saw through his act within five seconds, which was a pity really because his brother wasn't a stupid redneck. On the contrary, Dean was quite smart, but his need for a stupid brovado around girls was - well let's just say he's lucky he's good looking.
Sam had gone back to the hotel because the older lady – well she was about forty – had crooned in his ear and slid a hand up his thigh. Sam wasn't against older women taking younger partners, and it wasn't as if she wasn't attractive, but Sam just couldn't. It made him self-conscious. Not that his brother, the King of the Sex Society helped him out. No, in fact Dean helped the lady, telling her how smart and athletic, and oh that's all very flattering, but why did he have to pimp Sam out? Dean says about the 'Winchester gene' which apparently made all the men ten times hotter than the average male.
Sam often wondered why it was that people thought they were a couple. Then again, they looked, sounded, and acted nothing alike for the majority of the time. Most cashier, desk clerk, homes salesman would take one look between Dean and Sam and assume they were a couple. Not friends, not brothers, but a couple. Sam had come to expect it. Seemed like the only time someone didn't believe they were together was when they said so, or Dean was happily getting off with the nearest sorority cheerleader.
Sam shut his eyes, and got up, deciding he needed a drink before he tried to get some sleep. His ears had mostly blocked the moans. Sam got up, put his book to the side, and walked out of his room.
It was one of those times when he should have walked past and ignore the activity in the room, but no, Sam's brain came to a screeching halt when he noticed the door was ajar. He internally cursed the designers of the room who thought it was brilliant to put the bed in the place that even with the door a bit open, you could see everything.
Why wasn't he looking away, and walking on to do what he wanted to do? Get a drink that was it.
Sam's body stood rigid to the floor, and he could see the outline of the girl underneath Dean. Why did he even want to? What was his obsession with knowing Dean's preferences? He didn't expect to see what he saw.
He saw the slither of a smaller girl, with creamy white skin and a shock of short dark hair. It was like his own, in the way it was cut…
Sam grit his teeth and lowered his eyes, his cheeks heating up. Jesus, this was bad in all kinds of ways.
Right, he knows now he can walk away?
Nope. Sam looked up, and saw Dean's hips do a screw grind and the girl – whose name his brother had probably already forgotten – let out a whimper. Her hands came up to his shoulders and she scraped her nails along his tanned back.
That back, that was strong and carved like it was out of marble. Sam missed the feel of Dean's skin, and what he meant by that was when he was little, he missed the hugs Dean would give even if he was topless, just to show that he cared.
Dean's grunt, bought Sam's head swimming back to the scene before him. Sam knew what he was about to do was illegal, and just wrong, but he couldn't help it. He was already hard, and he hadn't even noticed until he took his eyes off Dean. Putting his hand in his sweatpants, he leant against the doorframe, and slowly jacked off.
He tried to tell himself it was the girl that he listened to, but it wasn't. He couldn't even lie to himself! Her moans got breathier and Sam wanted, desperately, to will all of it to go away. He had to bit his lip till he nearly tasted blood to stop any sound coming out of himself. Screwed his eyes up, but all he saw was Dean. It that didn't make his brain stop and the need rush around his body faster, he didn't know what.
He looked again, because, what was he doing to himself? Reminding himself of the little thing he left to go to Stanford for? Yeah… he went to Stanford because he had a brother who would torment him in more ways than one. Just be an older brother and make jokes about everything Sam did, but also be the one guy in town who had girls and boys alike lining up at the door.
He moaned through his teeth, and luckily he wasn't that loud, managing to clamp a hand over his mouth. Not that Dean would hear, Sam peeked past the gap. No, his brother shuts off in times like these. He was close, and from what Sam could hear, so were they. Need must have taken over his brain, because what he saw, for a moment was not the girl, but himself. It was the dark, floppy hair. Sam gulped and looked away. All he could see was himself, and Dean…
The sound of the somewhat cheap headboard smacked against the wall, and Sam could feel his knees giving way. His breath was ragged, and he twisted his grip, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight through his groin. He felt incredibly grateful when her climax happened at the same time as his own. Her louder moans, covered his own that dribbled out with his eyes shut, and a spurt of white heat, Dean clouding his senses.
He froze and then panicked as their voices carried to the door. Realisation of what he had done made him gulp and his hand had a wet stripe across it. He darted into the bathroom, shutting the door.
DEAN
She was tight, and she was so close he felt her fingers dig into his biceps making him groan.
'Sammm…' he whispered through clenched teeth, and it came out as a hiss. But it was screamed inside his head. Brown hair splayed against the pillow and she licked her lips, coming down from a high as she climaxed at the same time as him. He kissed her on the lips, and she pushed up on her elbows.
She left not long after, he told her he'd call her, and she said she knew he wouldn't. The chick – Michelle – was more like Sam with every word. He had chucked on his jeans to walk her to the door.
'You a'right Sammy?'
'Yup' and he frowned; the sound came from the bathroom. He could have sworn he heard noise of movement earlier, but he was imagining it surely. Dean shook his head.
'Don't fall sleep in there' he called, leaving Sam and going back into his room.
The next morning Dean gloated to Sam, and Sam just did his shake of the head and light laugh. Because what the other didn't know wouldn't hurt them, right?
