Never Underestimate the Power of Cheap Whiskey, Part 2
Notes: Yep, they still aren't my characters. (My characters are much more well rounded and far less misogynistic. Just kidding! Well, about the well rounded part...)
Warnings: Okie dokie folks...there's gonna be a lot under this subheading. First, I feel like a lot of these fics are written by people who are actually straight/have no idea how any non p in v sex works. I've glossed over a fair bit just to make the story spicy, but I'm a stickler for cleanliness and consent. You will see a wee bit more emphasis on safe sex in this than you might be used to. You will also see a nod to good consent culture (which is then duly ignored because otherwise there wouldn't be a story and writing this without Dean drinking would be completely out of character). If alcohol based consent issues are triggering for you, this might be the time to turn back. Now, if you're still hung up on the incest bit...well, I don't know why you're reading this in the first place to be quite honest. Go find something else that makes you happy and read that instead.
Also, this is a super glurgy ( I believe the regular internet word is shmoopy) story. It's sickly sweet which was both unintentional and a happy discovery (at least for yours truly). I've got enough angsty writing elsewhere and I figure these boys could use some happy times.
Dean wouldn't have been able to adequately describe the thought processes that led to him kissing Sam back. What combination of mutual reliance, heartbreaking loss, and bad whiskey could have spurred him on, it was after all, a fairly usual combo for him and yet the outcome was decidedly less so. But he'd leave the answer up to someone smarter than himself, Sam maybe, because he was too damn focused on never letting Sam's lips leave his for the rest of their goddamn lives.
So much more so than any girl he'd ever made out with in the back seat of the Impala or boy he'd thrown up against the sticky back wall of a bar, Sam's lips seemed to fit against his like they were made for him to kiss. The fact that Sam was heartily kissing him back just made the deal sweeter. It would have been damn awkward otherwise and Dean was not in a place to deal with emotional drama right now. But whiskey and a warm familiar body and comfort, that he could definitely use some more of right this second, thank you very much.
Sam had been overwhelmed, pleasantly so, but still definitely overwhelmed when Dean broke the staring contest they'd begun after the first kiss. His older brother, shorter though he may be, was still fully capable of throwing Sam around and he'd knocked the wind out of Sam as he was flipped roughly over onto his back. Dean seemed to want to be in control of the situation. Hell, Sam had seen Dean with enough people to know that he was always in control of the situation, sharing rooms their entire lives had definitely been more than adequate to teach Sam a thing or two about what Dean liked. And maybe, just possibly in the back of his mind, Sam had wondered about what it would be like to be one of those people.
Their mouths were hard against each other, the pain and need welling up inside each of them seemed to come bursting out at the juncture of their lips. Breaths came like sobs as the brothers pressed in tighter, closer, wished they could crawl inside one another and stay there forever, thinking there was just a chance that that might actually feel like peace.
Rough hands pushing up under Sam's shirt, latching onto his hips heavy and hot, were the first indication Sam had that this might lead to something more. Dean's hips bucking against his were the second.
"Dean," Sam reached up and placed one large hand on either side of his brother's face, needing affirmation, needing just a word that they were on the same page. Comforting his brother was one thing, taking advantage of his drunken, grief ridden brother was another and a cold knot in Sam's stomach warned him he might be leaning more towards the latter. "Is-is this something you want, Dean?"
Dean's eyes were wild with desperation and lust, his pupils expanded so there was only a tiny hoop of green visible around the black. He panted and pushed, trying to get back to Sam's mouth. "No talking Sammy, come on," he breathed.
"No, Dean," Sam was going to hate himself for stopping this later, but he'd probably hate himself more if he didn't continue without Dean's consent although, with him as drunk as he was, that would be a major grey area no matter what he said. "You're drunk as hell and you're not thinking clearly. Is this what you want?"
The sharp note in Sam's voice seemed to shake Dean just a little. The wildness subsided a little, and he focused enough to catch Sam's gaze and hold it steadily.
"Sam, man, we're all we have left. I need you. I've always needed you." The confession was difficult and embarrassing as hell; Dean was very glad at that moment that he was drunk because he wasn't sure he'd have been able to say it otherwise.
There was a softness when Sam pulled him down into a kiss this time. A few kisses, warm and gentle enough to melt him like butter before Sam pulled away again. Dean keened quietly as his brother's lips pulled away, why couldn't Sam just stop thinking for once?
"I know, Dean, trust me I know. But this," his eyes swept up and down between their bodies tangled up atop the car, "Is this what you're going to want tomorrow? Dean, I just couldn't take it if..."
"Are you asking me if I'm going to freak out tomorrow because I fucked you tonight?" Dean pushed his hips in just a little tighter as he finished speaking and he could feel Sam shiver deliciously underneath.
"Yeah," the reply was breathless, "pretty much."
The only reply he received was Dean's sudden absence. His brother slid off him onto the ground and walked towards the passenger side of the car. Every place Dean had been touching was now hit with the chill night air and Sam cringed. Fuck, he thought as he collapsed heavily down onto the hood of the Impala, now he'd done it. Crossed that line he swore to himself he'd never cross and now he'd be losing the only family he had left. There was no way Dean would forgive him for...
The door jolted the car as it swung shut and Sam heard Dean's boots crunching through the autumn leaves towards him again. Here we go, Sam thought, time for a fight. But as he was just about to push himself upright, several wrapped condoms, a latex glove, and an on-the-go packet of lube landed lightly on his lap.
A very smug looking Dean crawled his way up between Sam's legs again. "Didn't think I'd make you do it with just spit did you?"
He positively beamed at Sam, radiating a level of cockiness only Dean could ever pull off.
"Dean, where...?"
"Dude, do you ever look in the glove compartment? I'm always prepared."
His hands were unbuckling Sam's belt before he even had a chance to respond. Jeans, boxers, and all followed shortly thereafter and Sam fervently wished he was drunk enough to ignore the cold, like his brother obviously was.
A hot mouth on his inner thigh silenced the extreme confusion/bitching about the cold monologue running through his brain though. In fact it may have stopped his brain functioning altogether. Sam would have to check back with you on that when his brother was no longer nibbling his way up towards his increasingly needy cock.
Dean hiked Sam's long legs up over his shoulders, face buried tight between, lapping and sucking away at all of the sensitive skin he could find. Everywhere except...it was Sam's turn to whine, desperate to feel that deliciously warm tongue on him. He heard an exceptionally self satisfied chuckled from between his legs before Dean raised his head enough to tease, "Well, Sammy, what is it you want?"
"Want," Sam gasped as Dean's head lowered back down and started sucking out a hickey on the soft skin right next to his hip bone. "Want you to..."
"To?" More chuckles as Dean used the leverage of Sam's legs on his shoulders to hoist his younger brother up to where his hands could slip underneath and grab his ass.
"Dammit, Dean! Blow me already!" Sam had never been more glad that they often lived out in the middle of nowhere because he was practically shrieking in frustration.
Suddenly his legs had dropped back down and Dean's hands, oh fuck, his rough warm hands, one was clasped wetly against Sam's cock and the other nestled right between his legs. Dean languidly licked Sam from base to tip, quietly reveling in the little shivers coasting down his brother's spine.
When he reached the top though he paused, letting a few warm breaths skate across the ruddy tip of Sam's dick. Another whine and Sam was up on his elbows, staring down at him with a mixture of blown out lust and annoyance. Perfect. Dean allowed himself one more teasing smirk and then, eyes still locked on his brother's, pulled as much of Sam into his mouth as he could. Sam's eyes rolled back into his head as the tip of his cock nudged the back of Dean's throat and he collapsed back onto the hood of the Impala.
Dean was pleasantly surprised by how much he could still take, even though it was years since he'd last blown someone. And no one he'd sucked off had ever been as big at Sam, although it wasn't as though that was a surprise, the kid was a giant after all. Still, as his lips skated up and down his brother's length, he wouldn't have had it any other way. The more of Sammy the better, he thought at this point.
Keeping Sam distracted while he reached for the glove and the lube wasn't particularly difficult either, the kid was arching into his mouth and not so much gasping for air as growling for it. All that stilled pretty quickly though as the first lubed up, latex covered finger pressed urgently around Sam's hole. As though they had suddenly been plunged into deep water, everything stilled and every sound quieted. Sam was still breathing heavily, but now it was silent, anticipatory, and slightly anxious. Dean was obviously experienced in this but, shit, Dean was the only guy Sam had ever wanted to...what if it...?
"Relax, Sammy," Dean purred and Sam, eager to please, tried to obey.
Little by little, with Dean still sucking away like a champ on his cock, Sam relaxed enough for two fingers to push through. Everything was boiling, his body felt too too hot, Dean's fingers bringing a constant flux of vulnerable pain and wanton need. But this was Dean, this was what he'd dreamed about, a thousand and one wanks since he was barely old enough to get hard, hiding under cheap motel sheets as they shlepped across the country over and over. If he was going to do this, it was fucking well going to be with Dean and it was gonna be now, since he had no idea whether he'd get another chance.
"Please, Dean, come on," Sam choked out as Dean slid in another (God what were they on, three now?) finger.
"Get one of the condoms out for me, will ya?" Dean panted, letting Sam's cock slide wet out of his mouth. Sam scrambled to do as he asked, afraid he was going to rip the condom itself in two as he shucked it from it's wrapper. Dean's fingers receded slowly one after the other until Sam heard the snap of the glove coming off and the quick unzipping of Dean's jeans. God, he'd left Dean hanging all this time, he thought suddenly. What if he's not even...?
Any worries that Dean wouldn't be ready himself vanished as Sam felt the hot push of his brother's cock at his entrance. Dean's hands were once again grabbing Sam's hips like he thought his younger brother might get up and run at any minute as he pressed slowly, inch by inch in. They both stilled, shuddering ever so slightly, when Dean came to rest, wrapped up in his brother's heat.
Dean almost jumped when Sam reached out, suddenly, to grab his waist and pull himself in deeper. Sweet little noises were leaking from Sam's open mouth as he moved himself, unsure but needy up and down Dean's cock. It was really all the assurance Dean needed.
He grabbed Sam's hand and guided it to his leaking cock, then took over, pumping in and out slowly but surely. It wasn't a sight Dean ever thought he'd see, Sam spread out underneath him, moaning for him, begging for him. Years he'd thought about it, but spurned the idea just as coldly as he assumed Sam would him, if he ever knew. But Goddamn, here they were and it was all Dean could do to stop himself from coming immediately.
The Impala groaned under their combined weight as Dean fought to keep a steady rhythm, determined to make sure Sam came before he did. The prospect wasn't looking good however, if the tight coiling feeling in his stomach was anything to judge by. Need to move things along, need to move things along now, he thought desperately. With a harsh jerk, he lifted one of Sam's legs up over his shoulder again.
Sam was unprepared for the sudden rearranging of his body, leg muscles straining a little to accommodate their new position, but any complaints were short lived. He felt like he'd accidentally been electrocuted, jolts of lightning shooting up and down his spine as Dean's cock skimmed his prostate with very thrust. Before he could even see it coming, he felt his orgasm tearing through him, hard and fast and from the sound of it, Dean was hot on his trail, a nearly feral moan ripping through the air.
Neither one of them had bothered to move for a few minutes, each enjoying the warmth that was slowly seeping away from between them into the cold night air. When both Sam and Dean's breathing had returned to a somewhat normal pace and Dean was absolutely sure he wouldn't just fall the fuck over if he stood up, because that would be embarrassing has all hell, they quietly moved apart. A quick shuffle of clothes returning to their appropriate owner and place, then they were back to laying side by side on top of the Impala as though nothing untoward had happened at all.
But it certainly had. And Goddamn, wasn't Sam going to be a fucking coward about it and for once in his life, not push his luck. Because he'd actually done it, years of fucking thinking about it and now he'd gone and done it. Knowing Dean's repulsion for "chick-flick moments", Sam was pretty sure they'd never speak about tonight again. But at least he'd done it. And he'd got Dean to promise he wouldn't flip out about it tomorrow, well, not really, but the implication had been there...
If Sam had had a drink he would have done a spit take when Dean spoke.
"So, if you want this to be a one time thing, comforting and all that," Dean said roughly, obviously trying to get what he wanted to say out as quickly as possible, "that's cool. Shit happens, I completely understand. But if you..." He broke off, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"If I what?" Sam could barely breathe, the nerves working his way up his belly, pushing savagely through the warm glow of sex.
"If you, you know...Goddamnit, Sammy." Sam heard Dean fill his lungs like he was going to start the underwater portion of the survival test Dad always put them through each summer. "If you'd want it to be a more regular thing, I'm down, I guess is what I'm trying to say."
The smile that moved over Sam's face felt wide enough to crack it in two. "Yeah," he said, still staring up at the stars, not daring to look over at his brother. "I'd like that."
Maybe, just maybe, things would turn out all right, they both though simultaneously. Maybe together, they could get through this.
Goodness! Well, if you enjoyed that or are looking for stories like it, feel free to check out my other stuff. Leave a constructive comment/whatever isn't screaming, if you feel so inclined! Ta for now, y'all!