Balls 2: Aftershocks

Sequel to Balls. Uh...yeah it's basically porn without plot.

It's been six weeks.

Literally three hours after Sam and Dean's first close encounter of the testicles kind-after they'd finally gotten to sleep-they'd gotten an emergency call from Bobby, packed their crap and hit the road.

Dead hunters, what seemed like a pack of mystery monsters, and missing townsfolk had Sam and Dean shacked up with Bobby and a couple other hunters while they tried to figure it all out. All squatting in a rundown shack of a house. Together. All of them.

At no point in time did Sam and Dean have a moment together. Not a single stakeout. Not a single meal. Not a single night of sleep. There was always someone right there with them.

It was weird at first. The development in their relationship was so new, and it felt completely unfair that they were being forced to box it away already. Sam had bemusedly thought of something Shakespeare had written; an impatient child that hath new robes and may not wear them. Of course, he smiled to himself the moment after he'd thought of the line. Dean would call him a girl if he knew.

It wasn't that big of a deal to act the same way they'd always acted around each other. It wasn't like they'd be playing grab-ass while hunting or whatever. Or flirting. Or holding hands. That's not something either of them would do anyway. Right?

Once the group figured out that the 'mystery monsters' were actually ancient, powerful spirits—bodies having been buried deep in the woods after they'd been brutally murdered over a hundred years prior—it only took a matter of days to locate the graves, salt and burn the bodies, and pack up to leave. But having been cooped up with three other hunters for a month and a half had pretty much thrown Sam and Dean back into unknown territory with one another.

Not only had they not been able to physically do anything for all that time, but without a moment to themselves, they hadn't talked about it either. They'd fallen back into the rhythm of brothers, hunters, separate beds, before they'd even had a chance to have any other type of rhythm to change out of.

So it wasn't surprising when Dean was waiting in the car for Sam to finish saying his goodbyes Bobby, that he felt suddenly awkward and anxious. He and Sam had been drinking a bit that amazing night. It's not like they'd had a chance to discuss anything since. Maybe Sam had been quiet about it for more reason than keeping their secret from Bobby and them. Maybe he'd been avoiding it because he was ashamed of it.

He wasn't about to lie to himself about it. Dean didn't regret that night; not even a little bit. In fact, he'd been dreaming about it since then, as frustrating as it was to wake up with wood you just could not hide without waddling in some strange fashion to the bathroom. At least he could be grateful that he hadn't talked in his sleep. He was pretty damned sure that moaning his brother's name would've probably drawn some unwanted attention to himself. Not to mention, he was pretty sure Sam would've said something to him at some point, seeing as the whole lot of them were sleeping in one big room, sleeping bags on the floor all spread out on separate walls. Surely if he'd heard his name called out in the night, Sam would've noticed and called him out on it.

Then again, it wasn't like they'd had any time alone to address that either.

Fuckin' christ. Now he was even more nervous.

He was so consumed by his thoughts, Sam suddenly opening the passenger door made him jump. Luckily Sam hadn't noticed. Dean tried not to stare too hard as his brother folded himself into the passenger seat. He forced his eyes out the windshield and pulled on his belt before starting the engine.

"Where we headed?" Sam asked as he pulled on his own belt.

"East," Dean replied. "Figure it's as good a direction as any. If nothin' else, we can hit up the casinos," he told him, throwing Sam a smirk before he turned to look behind them, backing out of the parking space.

Sam let out a breathy laugh, smiling at Dean for a moment before he turned to face the windshield again.

"What?" Dean questioned the laugh as he pulled out of the lot.

"Nothing," Sam shook his head.

"No arguments against Vegas?" Dean raised a brow.

"Actually no," Sam replied. "We just spent the last month and a half in Bobby's back pockets, not to mention Josh and Daryl. I think we probably deserve a little down time someplace fun."

Dean looked over at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "Christo."

Sam laughed. "Dude, that's not funny. Or possible."

"Just makin' sure," Dean replied. "It's so not like you to wanna go to Sin City."

"I don't care where we go, as long as it's got a private room. Just you and me," Sam said, voice lowering a bit as he slid over toward Dean. Dean swallowed as he felt Sam's hand on his thigh. "Know how many cold showers I've had to take since that night? I lost count...but I'll tell you it's a lot. Kinda hoping we can spend the week making up for the past six," he was almost whispering now, right beside Dean's ear.

Dean's eyes grew heavy at the feel of Sam's breath against his skin. Then suddenly Sam's hand was gripping over Dean's crotch, squeezing over his half-filled cock through the front of his jeans, and he swerved, quickly trying to straighten the car out again, and grateful there seemed to be no one else on the road.

"Sam..."

"Don't kill us, Dean," Sam said with a grin. "Just...let me play until we get there, alright? Vegas is six hours from here, and I don't wanna wait that long." The blood had officially drained from Dean's brain and went straight to his dick as Sam opened his brother's jeans. "Think you can handle that?" Sam asked. "Not killing us while I have some fun?"

"Uhh..." Dean was already out of breath, trying like mad to concentrate on the asphalt ahead of them as Sam's tongue and teeth swept over his neck below his ear, his hand stroking his cock, not yet pulling it free of his boxers.

"I'll take that as a yes," Sam said with a smile, then scooted back over to his side of the car. It confused Dean for a moment, until Sam bowed over Dean's lap and pulled Dean's cock free.

"Oh shit!" Dean gasped as Sam's hot wet mouth sucked the head of him inside. "Jesus!" he yelped as he tried really hard to keep the car on the right side of the yellow line. He wasn't doing a very good job. Which was verified when a siren suddenly sounded behind them. "Oh fuck!" Dean gripped Sam's hair and pulled him off of him. "Dude! Getting pulled over! Goddamnit!"

"Should we Tommy Boy this?" Sam asked, suddenly serious.

"You wanna put my dick back in my pants first so I can pull the fuck over?" Dean replied incredulously. Sam complied, zipping the jeans carefully over Dean's quickly softening cock as Dean whipped the car onto the shoulder. "Aaaand go!" he shouted before they both threw open the doors and rolled out of the car in a state of feigned panic.

Sam stood and swiped frantically at his hair, twitching as he acted as though he were dodging an invisible force. Dean was up and rounding the car to fake-help him.

"What in the ever-lovin' hell is wrong with you boys?" the officer said as he stayed cautiously by his own vehicle, fingers lowering his sunglasses in order to survey the situation.

"Bees!" Dean yelled back. "Freakin' bees in the damn car! My brother's allergic!" he added as he continued to check over Sam, glancing back into the car now and then.

The cop narrowed his eyes. "How many bees we talkin'?" he asked.

"Not sure," Dean replied. "But I think they musta flown out. Don't see 'em anymore."

The cop stayed by his own car for a moment, and Dean knew it had worked. "That why you were swervin' back there?"

"I... Oh hell, I'm sorry, officer," Dean told him. "Sam here started flippin' out and it kinda spooked me. Shoulda just pulled over. Glad there's no one else on the road right now. Guess I owe you a thanks for pullin' us over."

The cop was quiet for a moment, observing them as they seemed to be carefully looking in each window of the Impala, trying to track any trace of bees. "You need me to call in some kinda help?" he asked slowly.

"Eh...probably not," Dean replied. "I think we're good."

"Just uh...stay off the road till you know your car is bee-free, got it?" the cop told him.

"Yes, sir!" Dean replied with a smile, then turned back to continue their fake-searching.

.~*~.

"I can't believe that actually worked," Dean said after they were back in the car, the cop driving past them before Dean started the engine again.

"Well you really sold it," Sam replied with a grin.

"That was all your fault!" Dean scolded. "You can't just start suckin' a guy's dick when he's drivin'!"

"Maybe it wasn't the best idea..."

"Damn right it wasn't. Hell, we haven't done anything since that one time, so I wasn't expecting it."

"That was kinda the point," Sam said, the corner of his mouth curling up a bit. "You were thinking too hard and I had to ease your mind."

"By molesting me at fifty-five miles per hour?"

"Well I guess I could've let you brood for six hours."

"I wasn't brooding. You brood."

"Yeah okay," Sam said with a laugh. "So uh...you wanna just grab a room for the night and get it out of our system before we head to Vegas?"

Dean sped out onto the road...

.~*~.

TBC