Waiting Your Turn
By: Abby Ebon
Summary: a Spn Sam/Dean/John High on sex pollen, prompt, from comment_fic.
The first hint that all is not as it should be is Sam writhing in the backseat. It catches John's attention in the rearview mirror. Dean looks to his brother, and it's a puzzled look at first, because then Sam is whimpering a little under his breath. Pressing his hand to his crotch, and flushed, his eyes wide with panic and need. Dean sucks in his breath, quick, maybe guessing what's happened, but it's too late to put a stop to it, they can only ride through it and hope for the best. John stops the car as Sam unzips his pants, his hips wriggling provocatively to get out of them.
Sam looks to Dean, desperate, and Dean nods very slowly. He's willing to let his brother use him to find his release. They know that people who don't have sex, who are infected by the pollen, die. They all die, it's just a matter of when, if they die having sex, or die without giving into the craving. Dean isn't about to watch his brother die.
Sam slides over the seat and into Dean's lap as if he's done it before. Sam's hands are busy with Dean's pants; he pulls and tugs with youthful inexperience. In its own way, it's an enchanting sight. Dean ends up half helping him to get undressed, and then Sam is breathing hard, pressed skin to skin against Dean and shaking like a newly born colt.
Sam's cock is shoved into Dean's belly, weeping, and Sam clings to Dean, his hips thrusting from time to time, unable to help himself. John is trying not to look, because he's trained his boys to rely on each other to survive, come hell or the high waters of the second flood. They are only doing what they must, and John tries to draw his mind away, to think of how to fix this – because, yes, they'd dealt with the fairy, but apparently fairy's weren't like witches, their doings didn't die when they did.
Dean is holding Sam, letting him do what he wants, letting Sam use him to find some small measure of relief.
Sam lets out a shaky half cry, and John feels a tightening in his gut, and knows Sam had cum, but whatever moment of relief Sam found, it wasn't enough, he's still hard and still moving urgently against Dean with mewling pleas. Dean trembles, closing his eyes tight, when he opens them, he meets Johns eyes, and they say it all: forgive me, father, for I have sinned.
Suddenly, as if he saw some sort of forgiveness or permission in John's eyes, dean isn't just passively submitting to Sam's touch, his hands are resting on his brother's hips and he manhandles Sam into a more comfortable position. Sam makes a soft triumphant noise in the back of his tongue, as John sees Dean's cock rutting against the crease of his ass. Dean is thrusting mindlessly up against Sam, and John wonders if some part of Sam had had this planned all along.
John knows he can watch and desire all he wants, but he can't touch. Not yet.
Dean and Sam thrust against each other, tangled limbs and grunts as they cum so quickly, John doesn't think either realized they went at the same time. Sam slithers down Dean's legs, licking and suckling on Dean's cock and belly, taking their cum into his body to slow down the process, Dean is panting and spent, and when Sam turns to kiss John, he pulls his youngest son into the front seat for Dean to have a better view.