By Weirdnessmagnet
Paring: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sam’s perspective of the story “No Chick Flick Moments.”
Author's Notes: There is no plot, just blowjobs and mild angst.
Disclaimers: The boys belong to Kripke and CW. If they were mine, I guarantee they'd be having more sex, at least with each other.
Spoilers: None.

**

Sam doesn’t like this.

They’re in a motel a hundred miles outside Omaha. It’s just before dawn, and Dean can’t sleep. He’s shifting beside Sam, wiggling the mattress. Sam fights to stay asleep. He hasn’t had a nightmare or a vision in a couple of days. It won’t last, and he clings to the warmth of dreamless black.

He can feel Dean watching him again. Sam is reasonably good at ignoring him -- a lifetime of living in the impossibly close quarters of motel rooms gave him the skill to sleep through virtually everything Dean does after Sam’s gone to bed -- but lately, Sam wakes up when he feels Dean watching him sleep, and Dean watches him a lot these days.

Sam wonders what Dean sees when he watches him like this. Sam thinks about asking, but knows Dean will come back with some smart-ass remark or call him a girl’s name. No one has ever had to say the word weak for Dean to hear it, and sure as hell won’t let Sam put him into a position of vulnerability, emotional or otherwise.

The only time Dean is truly honest with Sam about his feelings is when Dean thinks he’s asleep. Sam doesn’t like that.

Sam has tried to tell him that this is okay. He tried to tell Dean again last night. Sam almost had the words out when Dean crushed his mouth against Sam’s and fucked him over and over until they were both limp and aching.

So he keeps his eyes shut and tries to sleep even when Dean slides the covers down Sam’s body. Eye contact only makes Dean more scared of whatever this is between them. He feels the bed move as Dean shifts, hears Dean inhaling and thinks he feels the brush of Dean’s nose across his belly. Sam keeps his eyes closed. He won’t make this harder for his brother.

And Sam has to admit he likes waking up to Dean lapping kitten-soft strokes across the head of his cock. Dean’s warm, wet tongue pets him softly, so damned softly, pulling Sam out of sleep. Calloused fingers gently lifting his cock and warm mouth wrapping around him and Sam gasps at the gentle touch, the flicks on the slit, light nibbles, the blood moving south in a rush.

Sam’s hand moves of its own accord, reaching for Dean. He bumps clumsily into Dean’s head, and Dean just takes his hand and places it on Dean’s scalp. He runs his fingers across the burr of Dean’s short hair. Soft bristles tickle his palm, and he can’t stop rubbing Dean’s hair as his brother’s mouth makes him leak. He tries to be still for this but Dean’s too good; Sam can’t stop his hips from moving up to meet the slide of Dean’s mouth on him. Dean pushes Sam’s hips down and holds him there, making Sam take what Dean wants to give. It’s almost too much and Sam shudders hard beneath Dean’s hands. His soft, breathy gasps shift into moans and turn into words. God, yes, Dean, please --

Dean sucks him hard and steady and Sam moans when he feels Dean’s hand wrap around the base of his cock. It’s not a tease or a denial. It’s firm strokes and Dean’s mouth working together to get Sam off and it’s effective as hell. Sam hears himself moan with every up-down of his hand. He feels a light brush against his balls and before he can even groan at the touch Dean’s finger is inside and pressing against his prostate.

Sam bucks right off the bed with a shout. Dean is relentless, pressing and rubbing and sucking and stroking. Sam’s pulling too hard on Dean’s hair but he can’t make himself let go. He spreads his legs wider, wider, opening himself up for this and he’s begging and he’s not supposed to beg, ever, Dad taught them that, and Sam doesn’t beg when people have guns pointed at them, but Dean is inside him and making him come and Sam can’t stop.

Dean doesn’t stop licking him until Sam’s breathing is almost normal. When Sam finally stops shuddering, Dean slowly slides Sam’s cock out of his mouth, letting it drop wetly against his thigh. Sam reaches down and hauls Dean up the bed. He rolls Dean onto his back and tries to wrap his arms around him, just to hold him, but Dean isn’t in the mood. Sam wrestles Dean’s hands to the mattress and fits between his legs. Dean’s cock is wedged against his belly and Dean’s hips wriggle unconsciously, looking for friction against his shaft. Sam can feel his own dick nudging against Dean’s opening.

“You can have this, Dean,” he whispers against Dean’s ear.

“Sam, don’t –-“

“No,” Sam says sharply. He pulls back enough to look at Dean and shifts his weight so his brother is effectively pinned beneath him. “You can have this. I’m not going to leave you, not when it’s my choice.”

“Sam,” Dean says again and tries to lift enough to catch Sam’s mouth. Sam pulls his face away and grinds his hips down. Dean groans and rubs his cock into Sam’s belly.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Sam says.

Dean’s eyes flutter closed as he squeezes the hands holding him down. “Whatever you want, Sam.”

“No, Dean. Whatever you want,” Sam says, and pushes in.

Sam doesn’t like this.

 

~end