Gonna Make Damn Sure

Dean woke and stretched, feeling relaxed for the first time in months. Sam was a line of heat against his left side, and Dean smiled, remembering.

Last night, Dean had pulled Sammy over his knee and had beaten his ass. Beat the shit right out of him.

***

Afternoon. The previous day.

They had pulled into a truck stop after several hours of Dean driving and Sam staring out the window.

"Want anything?" Dean asked crouching to view Sam through the driver's side window.

"No thanks," Sam replied refusing to meet Dean's eyes.

"Suit yourself."

Dean filled the gas tank then went inside. When he came back, arms loaded with enough road food for himself, Sam and their evil twins, Sam was gone.

Not in the car.

Dean dropped the bags.

"Sam. Sammy!" Dean ran around to the other side of the car, looked underneath. "God, not again." He could feel himself starting to panic, to loose control.

He stood up. Sam was standing there, hand on the door handle.

"Where the hell were you?"

"In the bathroom man. What's your problem?" In response to the look on Dean's face, Sam said, "What, are we attached at the hip now? Dean, I haven't needed you to escort me to the bathroom since I was six, so just get over it, alright?" Sam got in the car.

Dean pounded his fists on the roof of the Impala. Getting into the car, he slammed the door and reaching over grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt, and gripping his knee, slid him across the seat until Sam was resting right up against him.

"You're sitting here," he growled, settling Sam against his right side. "Where I can keep an eye on you."

***

For the next three hours, Dean's hand on his leg kept Sam from scooting away.

"You're getting to be weird, man." Sam tried to joke, but Dean's glare said shut up, and he did. He had never seen Dean so mad. Sam tried kissing his neck, but although he got Dean half-hard, Dean's painful grasp on his wrist stopped Sam's wandering hand cold.

***

An hour later they pulled in front of the office of the Sleep Inn.

"Come on," Dean said gruffly exiting the car. Sam followed him into the office, butterflies in his stomach but resigned.

***
Dean didn't waste any time. The second the motel room door shut, he was on Sam.

"What the fuck...?" Sam gasped as Dean sat on the edge of one queen sized bed and hauled Sammy across his lap. Sam had learned long ago to relax in Dean's hands when he touched him angry, to pacify him, but Dean wasn't going to be pacified this time. Sam almost immediately regretted not resisting. Dean wrapped one muscular leg over his brother's longer ones and brought a heavy hand down on his little brother's upturned ass.

"That's for the truck stop," he growled.

"Ouch Dean, that hurts. Let me up, you asshole."

"Oh Sammy, you're making this so easy."

Raising his hand up as high as he could, Dean landed ten more spanks of Sam's ass.

"That's for getting possessed while going out for fucking hamburger's."

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Don't back talk me." Dean hitched Sammy up a little tighter against himself and gave Sam ten more hard spanks, right over his ass hole where he knew his brother would really feel it deep.

"That's for ditching me in the middle of the night, hot wiring a car, and not...SMACK picking up...SMACK, your god...SMACK, damn...SMACK, phone. You can't say that wasn't your fault."

Dean rested his hand on his brothers denim covered ass. He could feel the heat coming right through the fabric. He could hear Sammy panting. His voice almost sobbing. Getting spanked hurt. He could feel Sam's cock hard against his leg.

"You kinky little pervert." Dean heard Sammy moan in mortification. He had a wicked thought. He fingered the band of Sam's white underwear. Sam wasn't wearing a belt and he pants were so loose around his hips that with little effort Dean could just pull them....

"Dean, no!"

As Sam tried to crawl away, Dean easily pulled his pants down to his ankles, where they got stuck on his shoes. Dean crawled up Sam's back and humped his ass. Sliding a hand inside Sam's underpants, Dean fondled Sammy's hard cock. The head was slick with pre-cum.

"Damn Sam, your dick is as hot as you ass is right now. If I'd known putting you over my knee turned you on like this I would have done it a long time ago." Dean pushed his brother's shirts up over his head. "Kick your shoes off, Dude."

Now Dean was happy. Sammy was fully naked and hard.

Sammy was ready to fuck.

"My bitch," he laughed and leaned down to capture Sam's bitten lips with his own. They kissed like they were already fucking, all hot probing tongues and wet sloppy mouths.

"You don't fight fair, Dean."

"What would be fair, Sammy?"

"If you were naked too, If you were fucking my hot, spanked, horny ass with your big, hard cock." Sam punctuated each word with a lick of his brother's mouth.

"I love it when you talk dirty."

"Just do it Dean."

Dean stood up and tore his clothes off. He lubed up his dick while Sam watched, his hand gliding up and down his obscenely hard cock. When Dean put a knee on the bed, Sammy rolled over and put his ass in the air.

"That's my boy." Dean examined his little brother's red ass as he loosened Sammy's hole with his fingers. He wanted to smack him some more, and he knew Sam was too horny to mind, but Dean could already see a few finger-shaped bruised forming. He pulled out his fingers and licked Sam's ass where he had left his mark.

He had marked Sammy as his own and now he was going to fuck him.

Pupils blown, his positioned his dick and slowly pushed in, steady and relentless is what overcame Sam's resistance. He didn't stop until his balls were being heated by Sam's warm ass.

"Dean, Dean, I'm sorry. Please...."

"It's okay, Baby. I've got you."

"Dean please. I need..."

"What do you need, Sammy."

"I need you you to fuck me god damn it. Stop being so fucking nice and fuck me. Hard. Make it hurt jerk."

"You got it Bitch."

And Dean made damn sure Sammy did.

***