A/N: I wanted to get this up before my next class, cause otherwise I would forget about it. So I didn't get a chance to proofread it very closely. This chapter is a little longer than most of my other ones, and for some reason, I really like the crazy makeup girl. Please give my your thoughts and enjoy. Thank you!

Dean walked onto the set on a warm Monday morning. Feeling the cold air conditioned inside of the building was a relief from the blistering heat outside.'S'to hot out ther…." His thoughts were ripped away as Sam appeared in the doorway, sweat dripping down his face making his hair slick and his skin glisten. The sight was almost pornographic, causing Dean to stare, lips slightly parted.

"Damn, it's hot out there." Sam said, carding a hand through his hair. A visible shiver wracked his body, as the cool air cooled his sweat soaked skin. He gave Dean a funny look, "You okay?"

Dean licked his bottom lip, "What?" He asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. The heat must be getting to me." Dean stated, turning to his dressing room, leaving Sam a little concerned.

Dean walked into his dressing room when the nearly bipolar makeup girl assaulted him. "This is so exciting!" She screamed, forcibly applying makeup to Dean's face. 'Get of' me bitch.' He looked her over. She wore a tight low cut T-shirt that didn't leave much to the imagination, and pinned her red locks up into a bun. She bounced happily, shoving him into the make up chair.

"I can't wait for this scene! So much fun… YAY!" she screamed, jumping up and down, clapping her hands together. Small clouds of makeup powder drifted in the air causing Dean to sneeze. The small gesture made his bruised tail bone uncomfortably hit the chair.

"What's wrong?" She asked, suddenly very concerned.

"Hurt myself over the weekend." Dean answered, rubbing the small of his back with his hand.

"That's no good, did it bruise?" She whimpered.

"I don't know. I can't exactly see it." Dean spoke. He barely had time to think of what he said before the red headed girl pulled him out of the chair, turned him around and ripped his pants down. 'THE FUCK YOU DOING?'

"Tsk tsk tsk… This is no good, no good at ALL!" She mumbled, pulling out a kit of concealer. "We need to cover that bruise… so just relax. How can you shoot a nude scene with your bum all black and blue?" 'Did she say bum? Wait… nude scene? Not again.'

"What do you mean, 'nude scene'?" Dean asked, his voice cracking slightly. His thoughts drifted back to the scene where he was forced to wear the speedo.

"Well now, this is the sex scene." She bobbed her head, which reminded Dean much of a parrot. 'Sex scene? She doesn't mean with Sammy does she?' He suddenly felt the brush on his back, tickling him and making him feel suddenly exposed.

"Are you almost done." Dean asked, wanting to cover himself with something, anything.

"Quit your god damn bitching." She snapped, purposefully pressing the brush into the bruised area, making Dean wince. A few more strokes was all it took for her to finish. "All done!" She smiled, the words almost sounding like a song.

"Since we are going to get a pretty good picture of your backyard, you get this little nylon bag to put over your goodies." She jumped up to retrieve the small bag, leaving Dean to slide back into the chair wearing only his shirt. 'This bitch is crazy.' He thought, 'and my backyard? You have to be kidding me! They want to put my ass on television?'

"No way, I ain't doing this." Dean shouted as she returned with the bag.

"What did I tell you about your bitching?" She gritted through her teeth. "NOW YOU WON'T GET THE BAG. GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" She pulled him out of the chair and pushed him out the door, in the process, pulling his shirt off as well.

He stumbled out of the room completely naked, the shrill shrieking of the makeup girl filling the quiet studio followed by a loud slam of the door. The few people on the set, including Sam, shot glances in the direction of the ruckus, to view Dean in all his glory.

Dean's entire body turned red from embarrassment. 'I would kill for that speedo right about now.' He reached into the garbage can and was rewarded with an old newspaper, which was quickly wrapped around his waist.

"Uhh, Dean?" Sam asked, his voice soft with laughter.

"Shut your cake hole." Dean shouted.

"Everybody, places! Dean, we need you in the doorway to the bathroom… preferably with a robe or something on. Why didn't your assistant give you a robe?" Robert asked through his megaphone. "Anyway, Sam we need you on the bed. This scene shouldn't be to hard. There are barely any lines. Let's go people!"

Dean was handed a robe and climbed onto the stage, winning a sexy pout from Sam as he slid the clothing on. "Okay, Dean. When action is called, you drop your robe. The camera will get a good view of your back, and then you climb into the bed with Sam. Once there, you will kiss and all that crap. Then you and Sam will engage, Sam will be on top."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean shouted. "I am nobody's bitch."

"ACTION!" Robert yelled.

"Hey wait a seco-" Dean started, but one of the crew pushed him into the room and tore his robe off. Dean started to blush, but carried through with the scene, not wanting to take repeated shots.

He quickly walked to the bed, climbing in and throwing the covers over his body. He looked at Sam, who moved closer and captured Dean's lips. Dean lost himself in the kiss, feeling himself respond to Sam's touches.'Damn, I'm glad there's a blanket here.' He gasped slightly as Sam rolled on top of him, shooting pain through his entire body.

His back throbbed as Sam started grinding their hips. Dean gasped in pain as he became more aware of his back.

"Dean, you have to sound like your enjoying this." Sam whispered into his ear. 'Easy for you to say.'

"Oh, yeah… that is wonderful. Gimme more." Dean spoke, almost in monotone. The sharp jolts of pain preventing him from sounding realistic.

"I think you might need so help." Sam spoke softly into his ear. He moved his hand, running his palm firmly against Dean's member, getting a groan out of him.

"Sam, what are you doing?" he whispered.

"Helping you out a little." Sam answered, catching Dean's lips with his own. He slowly rubbed Dean to life, with slow torturous strokes. Sam rocked his hips against Dean's, the friction causing Dean to moan.

"Fuck!" Dean shouted as Sam's thumb dipped into the slit. Dean's moans and dirty talking heightened, making the scene realistic instead of forced. Sam wrapped his fingers around the base of Dean's cock and stroked up and down Dean's hard shaft, wracking shivers of pleasure through Dean's body.

Dean pulled Sam closer, roughly capturing Sam's mouth with his own. Their moans being muffled as their tongues battled. Sam could feel that Dean was close, as he broke their kiss to move lower and bite Dean's collar. Dean bucked up against Sam's touches, the pain in his back lost to the pleasure Sam was giving him.

Sam thumbed the head of Dean's cock, capturing the precome and slowly rubbing it in circles along the crown. He stroked down, swirling his thumb teasingly across the sensitive area until he reached the bottom. Sam's other hands teasingly rolled Dean's balls, which was too much for Dean. "Shit Sammy!" He shouted as his balls pulled up and he lost himself with pleasure.

Dean slowly recovered from his orgasm, feeling the warm sticky feeling of his release against Sam's abdomen. Sam gazed into Dean's eyes, before gently brushing his lips to his brothers.

"Cut!" Robert shouted. "That was amazing, purely amazing. It seemed so real!"

"Glad I could help you focus on the job." Sam spoke over Robert's loud words.

"So am I." Dean spoke, cleaning himself off on the sheets. He pulled himself out of the bed and gathered himself up in his robe, Sam following behind him.

The maids had rushed in to clean up the set, when one of them pulled the sheets off and screamed. "Oh my god, ewww! They jizzed all over the sheets."

Sam chuckled as Dean buried his face in his palms. 'We're never going to live this one down.'