"You okay, Sammy?"
The taller man groaned miserably, "No, I'm not, Dean. M'bruised to hell and back and m'tired."
"Poor, Sammy." Dean murmured, stepping behind the sleepy man and kissing each of his aching shoulders, "Y'know what'll help you, baby boy?"
"Not right now, Dean. Please? I just wanna go to bed." Sam moaned, knowing exactly what his older brother meant.
"C'mon, Sammy."
The taller man glared over his shoulder, "Sex is not a cure for everything, Dean. I need sleep, Dean. I'm not like you."
And if he didn't get any sleep, he's wrestle Dean into a Devil's Trap and get some sleep anyway. God, he and Dean had been all over the damn country this past month, hunting non-stop, and this was the first time they'd stopped at the Bunker.
He wanted sleep and if he had to sacrifice having Dean in bed with him, so be it.
Dean walked them across the room, playing with the button on Sam's jeans, "I'll make it good for you, baby, just like I always do. You won't even have to lift a finger, either. You just gotta lay there and feel good."
Sam sighed in defeat, "Just hurry up and get your rocks off, so I can go to bed."
'Cause it honestly felt like Dean only wanted him for sex.
Not like he needed help hunting since he was a super demon now.
"Hey," Dean said suddenly, materializing in front of Sam and cupping his face gently, "This isn't about me right now. It's about you. I just wanna make you feel better."
"Sleeping in the traditional sense would make me feel better." Sam mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes.
Dean nodded, "True, but you'd wake up with your back in knots. I don't want you hurting. If you lay over the table over there, you could doze while I rub your back. And if that leads to a little fooling around? Then I'll clean you up and carry you to bed."
Dean appeared behind him again, steering Sam toward the suggested table, where he manifested some pillows. A new, super plush pillow so Sam didn't hurt his hips on the table and the old, worn down pillow from their bed that Sam loved. The shorter man hummed, pleased, as his eyes flipped to black.
Sam sighed in reasonable content as he rubbed his face into the cool fabric, ignoring the fact that he was being stripped of all his clothing. He still wanted to go to bed and he knew on some level that Dean was influencing him, making him want this more, but Sam was too tired to fight it. His older brother would have gotten his way, one way or another, with or without the aide of his new demonic powers.
The taller man groaned into the pillow, grabbing it with both fists, as Dean dug his thumbs into his tense lower back, "Oh, ow, ah, okay. You were kinda right. This feels good. Real good."
"Told you so, Sammy." Dean said softly, leaning up behind Sam to nip at the back of his neck, "You should listen to me more."
"M'kay, De..."
Wow, that felt good. Really good. Great, in fact. Was Dean using his powers on him again? He'd have to ask him. Later. Way later. Like, after Dean was done rubbing his back.
As Dean moved his hands to massage Sam's flanks, he rubbed his scruff covered face in between his baby brother's shoulder blades. So maybe he was using his new mojo to...heighten he pleasure, so to speak. It wasn't like he was hurting anybody. In fact, Sam was looking and sounding much better than he was earlier.
He was making his Sammy feel good and that's all that mattered to him.
"M'still loose from earlier, De. You c'n slide on in." Sam slurred, every muscle in his body going lax.
This was...spectacu-lacular.
Dean smiled against Sam's back, then single-handedly undid his pants and pulled his rapidly hardening shaft out. He had never been a fan of underwear, on Sam at least, and the day he "accidentally" incinerated all of Sam's, had been a blessed one, even though in retaliation his little brother had hidden his (including the few pair of nice, lacy, pink ones, which Sam assured him were safe). Sam having no other choice to go commando mad it so much easier to shove two fingers roughly into Sam's loose little hole.
"You're right, Sammy." Dean murmured, quirking his fingers just right, stabbing at the poor man's prostate, "Might hafta start doing some Kegels. Love my baby brother's loose little hole, but preps all part of the fun too."
Sam nodded, gasping into the pillow, "Mm-hm!"
Dean withdrew his fingers, lined himself up, then smoothly slid home, "Loose little whore for big brother, aren't you, Sammy?"
"Love m'big brother's cock." Sam mumbled sleepily.
Dean gently rolled his hips, setting a nice, slow pace, "What else do you love, baby brother?"
"Love havin' m'lil' hole stuffed." Sam murmured, eyes drifting shut.
Dean's breath came slow, a mischievous smile curving his face. Just like when he was a baby, he'd rocked Sam to sleep. Okay, not like just like it, but that was semantics. His eyes flipped back to green as he pressed a kiss to the back of Sam's head and came, his little bother's sleep relaxed hole simply too much of an warm, erotic cock sock.
The now green-eyed man pulled out and backed away, sitting comfortably nude in one of the chairs, humming to himself. A single drop of his cum dripped free from Sam and slid down his long leg, causing the slumbering man to murmur unhappily and shiver. Even in his sleep, Sam was a greedy little cum whore.
"Well. Isn't that a beautiful sight to come across?"
Dean glanced away from Sam, to Crowley, who appeared at his side, "What are you doing here?"
"I knew you were with Moose and I sensed you use your powers." The well-dressed demon spoke with a shrug, "Just wanted to make sure the resident human wasn't being killed by a demonic neophyte."
Crowley took in Sam's sleeping form, "It would be such a shame to leave the lad like this."
"I was just about to carry him to bed. Just wanted to look at him for awhile." Dean arched an elegant brow and nodded towards Sam, "You hungry, Crowley?"
"I'm a tad peckish, yes. May I?" the deal making demon asked politely, not wanting to overstep his bounds.
Because he knew, one wrong more, and he'd be but a stain on the floor, without a complaint from Dean.
Dean smiled, "Go ahead. Wouldn't want the King of Hell to starve."
Crowley repressed a shudder as he took off his overcoat and blazer, unbuttoning and rolling up his shirt sleeves. Dean really needed to learn to control the color of his eyes. The constant, subconscious, switching from green to black to green to black again was dizzyingly erotic.
Crowley shook his head. Ah, to be young again.
The immaculately dressed demon made his way to Sam's sleeping, bent over, body. As he stroked the impossibly smooth skin, he marveled at the sight of―
"My God, does he really have dimples on these cheeks as well?"
Oh, what a wonderful sight to behold!
He continued petting Sam's bottom, pressing a gentle kiss to each cheek. Crowley wanted Dean to know this little "snack" was appreciated. The deal maker, wasting no time, spread Sam's ass cheeks and dove right in. He couldn't help moaning at the taste. Was that―
"S'apple flavored lube. I like it when Sammy tastes like pie."
Well, that wasn't surprising.
Crowley liked a broad stripe over the loosely puckered hole and smiled against his skin when the sleeping giant shuddered. A sleeping moose was a sensitive moose. He'd have to remember that for later.
Apple flavored lube, the youngest Winchester's natural musk, and the eldest's cum proved to be a heady taste and scent. The newly Demonic Squirrel had filled his moose of a brother to the brim with his seed.
And God the taste was sinful.
Crowley knew he was making a mess of himself, but he really couldn't help it. He couldn't stop his tongue from stabbing into the glistening, contracting hole, nor could he stop his right index finger from gently rubbing up and down Sam's perineum.
Nor could he stop himself from messing in his nice trousers.
The usually put together demon (though not so much now), pulled back with a shaky sigh. That…that was…was…
Dear Lord in Heaven there weren't words to describe what that was.
"I'm glad you liked you snack." He heard Dean purr from behind him, "Sammy's tasted good for years. It's about time someone other than me could confirm it."
Fucking Hell, these little buggers would be the death of him. He just knew it.