Plans

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean and Sam, but oh, how I wish I wish I wish I did.

“You have no idea…” Dean purred against Sam’s ear, “What I have planned for you.”

Sam shuddered slightly, goose bumps breaking out along his skin at the sudden, unexpected breath over his ear. His arms pulled slightly against the handcuffs that bound him; eyes strained under the blindfold Dean had put on him. No, he had no idea what Dean was thinking or planning. He wondered if that should scare him, and why it didn’t. Did he really trust Dean that much, despite the outward signs he gave?

Yeah, he did. And that was almost scarier, but Dean’s arms were around him and he was kissing Sam so gently, which was something that Sam never seemed to expect from Dean. Yet tenderness came regularly from Dean, and Sam was reminded that the Dean he pretended to be to the world and the Dean he was when he was holding Sam at night were two different people.

“I was tempted to add sound mufflers,” Dean said conversationally. “Heightens sensation, you know. But then I remembered I like talking to you.”

Sam groaned lowly into his gag. You never stop talking, Dean! he thought.

“What’s that?” he could almost hear the grin in Dean’s voice as he ran his nails oh-so-slowly down Sam’s chest. Sam got the feeling Dean knew exactly what he would have said were he able. “You love me? I love you too.” Sam rolled his eyes.

Then he didn’t have much attention left to think smartass thoughts, because Dean’s mouth was all-fucking-over his chest, and Dean’s hands were everywhere his mouth wasn’t. He moaned and sighed out noises of pleasure as Dean’s mouth and hands lit sweet trails of fire everywhere they went.

Dean’s mouth was on his stomach when he felt the slight shift of muscle above him and suddenly, unexpectedly, his mouth closed over one of Sam’s nipples, tugging gently with his teeth. Sam, not having expected this, jerked and cried out, earning an extremely smug sound from Dean. “Like that, do you?” Dean asked as he pulled back, blowing a puff of air over his wet nipple and earning another jerking moan. Dean could be such a prick when he was pleased with himself.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dean continued, not shutting up until his mouth went back to teasing Sam’s chest, stomach, thighs, and finally cock. Sam moaned and squirmed under Dean as well as he could with arms bound and Dean pinning his hips to hold him still while his mouth sucked hard on Sam, tonguing that spot underneath the head that was extra sensitive, but seldom enough to keep it surprising. Sam couldn’t suppress the needy noises that felt half-caught in the back of his throat.

Dean sat up slightly when Sam’s vocalizations indicated he was getting closer to orgasm; Dean was nowhere near ready for that to happen yet. Dean shifted, getting a knee between Sam’s legs while Sam moaned his annoyance at being denied climax.

“I know, Sammy,” Dean said, conversationally, gloating a bit over the fact that Sam couldn’t correct him. “But don’t worry, I’m going to make this so worth your while.” He kissed along Sam’s jaw to his ear, whispering lowly into it. “I’ll be right back, I forgot the lube.”

Dean could almost see Sam rolling his eyes under the blindfold – Dean always forgot the lube. But this particular time, Dean had things well planned out, and had other things in mind, getting ready for what he had planned.

He settled back over Sam a moment later, but not in the position that Sam was probably expecting. He straddled Sam, facing his feet, and leaned back slightly, seating himself on Sam’s erection with a breathy moan. Sam choked out a surprised noise, and Dean allowed himself another quick grin of satisfaction. “Not done with you yet, Sammy,” he whispered, starting to move slowly on top of him. “Oh God…” he bit his lip as an answering moan from Sam sent a jolt straight to his groin.

“Sammy,” he repeated, focusing again on his plan, leaning forward a bit. He kept shifting up and down slightly on Sam, and spread his own legs a little wider before gently nudging Sam’s thighs to part a bit. He picked up a small vibrator from the table, slicking it with lube and then slowly pressed it into Sam. Sam made a small choked, surprised noise. Dean flicked the vibe on, which earned a jerking twist of Sam’s hips up into Dean and a repeat moan. Dean echoed the sound, twisting back at an awkward angle to pull the gag from Sam’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Sam moaned. “Oh holyfuckinghell, Dean.” Dean was surprised he was as coherent as he was, and responded to this by turning the vibrator up notch by notch until Sam was a moaning, writhing mess thrusting into him. Dean just held on and moved with him, groaning lowly, hand back to balance himself against the bed. Sweat threatened to drip into his eyes and he panted.

“God, Sam, fucking delicious,” Dean growled, shifting slightly so Sam could take him deeper.

“Tight,” Sam choked. “Good, Dean!”

Dean spared a brief bit of amusement over the fact that Sam’s college vocabulary had apparently deserted him, hands clenched in the bedspread as he continued to move against Sam, the pace increasing to something frantic.

“Dean!” Sam yelled – almost shrieked – as he came with a deep twist of his hips into Dean.

Dean, close to climax himself, quickly jerked himself off, slumping over Sam when he orgasmed, trembling slightly with release.

After a moment he got up the energy to roll off Sam, flopping to the side. He removed the vibrator and fumbled the handcuffs unlocked with tired and slightly messy hands.

“Oooh God, Dean,” Sam mumbled, rolling easily into Dean’s arms, settling into their usual position, Dean holding Sam, who rested against Dean’s side, head on Dean’s chest. "Control freak," he added in the same mumble, affectionate.

Dean chuckled agreement, and after a moment, added absently, “Happy birthday, Sam,” kissing Sam’s hair. There was no response from Sam – he was already asleep, face looking unusually peaceful in sleep.