Looking Forward To It
folder
Supernatural › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,263
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Supernatural › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,263
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Looking Forward To It
"You sure you don't want any more to drink, Sammy" Dean asked wickedly, holding another tantalising shot of vodka in front of his brother
Sam simply staggered on, more leaning than walking on his own volition as he slurred, "Dean you're pretty."
Dean grinned. "Thanks Sam. Want any more to drink?" he asked brightly
For one second, just a small tiny second, he felt guilty. Guilty for getting his brother drunk like this.
But this was the only way he could get what he wanted.
They had spent a wonderful night together, lips and teeth and hands and skin, both exploring each other.
And then nothing.
Sammy hadn’t said anything.
Dean hadn’t either.
And for a whole week, they’d gone back to the way things were before. But Dean couldn't live with 'before' anymore. He wanted what they had that fateful night
"Dean, kiss me" Sam slurred again.
Dean thought Sam'd never ask
He gripped Sam’s shoulders’ keeping his little brother upright as he pressed his lips against Sam's, tongue invading and caressing those sweet caverns. God, Sam was such a lightweight. Two beers and he was singing karaoke. But he did wonder why he waited this long to kiss his brother. Cassie, Lisa, all those random girls he'd picked up didn't compare to the innocent, hesitant lips of his brother
"Deanie," Sam said as they broke the kiss.
Dean's eyebrows rose. Sam hadn't called him ‘Deanie’ since they were kids.
"Did you think that barman was cute?"
And all Dean could think of was: What? I kiss you and you talk about is the barman?
Or was he losing his touch?
“He said I could meet him at his motel room. Can I go? Huh? Please, Deanie? Please?”
And God, Sam sounded like the five year old he used to be. The one who would stick out his bottom lip and make it quiver, widen his eyes to the point that the air stinging it would cause them to water; thus ensuring him all the Lucky Charms and Spaghetti-O’s he could eat, as well as many games of Indians and Cowboys, Cops and Robbers, and Mummies and Daddies (yes, Sam really was a girl when he was young) as Sam wanted.
Dean growled, grabbing a fistful of Sam’s shirt and ramming his baby brother over to the alley wall. Pinning the very drunk Sammy up against the wall, he ground into him, rubbing their imprisoned cocks together.
"But cutie at the bar -"
Sam's words were cut off when Dean smacked his lips against his brother's, shutting him up. And finally, blessed quiet. Quiet to enjoy the firm hand Sammy apparently needed.
Dean had wanted to be gentle.
But there was nothing gentle about the way his rough and impatient fingers all but tore down those irritating jeans, placing possessive kisses along his brother’s face, throats and (teeth nipping away the equally irritating shirt) upper shoulders.
As Dean stroked him, there was no more mention of this pesky barman. Of course, that didn't mean Dean wouldn't be visiting said barman for a friendly "Keep the fuck away from my little brother OR ELSE" chat.
Dean turned Sam to hug the wall, relishing Sam's gasp as he nudged his cock through the walls that only HE had graced.
To his surprise, he wasn't met with any resistance (although Sam’s body was as velvety soft as he remembered), and that only made him push harder. And made him even more pissed. It meant that Sam had prepared himself for the "cutie barman."
Dean reached around and grasped his brother's throbbing member, giving it a punishing squeeze. His thrusting was equally forceful (and what a divine ass - God’s gift to the world, in Dean’s opinion) as he pumped the cock in his hand in a matching rhythm. His mouth tracing along Sam's shoulders, he bit down, marking his brother.
See if that stupid barman dared to EVER look in his brother's general direction again.
Marking Sam evidently agreed with his brother as he began pushing back against Dean, trying to drive Dean further and further into him.
Dean stiffened before his release erupted, Sam not far behind him.
“Thanks Tom. Cutie," Sam smiled, falling backwards into Dean's waiting arms before promptly falling asleep.
***
Later that night, as they lay together on the King size bed in the 'only free room' the motel boasted (even though there were no other cars in the parking lot), each were lost in their own thoughts.
Sam, for the most part, was purring his satisfaction like a cat. They had gone for a week without discussing 'It (as he was coming to call what happened between them). But he was a bit embarrassed and stupid Dean was too macho for the impending chick flick moment. Luckily, pretending to be interested in the barman seemed to have done the trick.
As for Dean He could read his brother like an open book. He knew what he was up to. Oh sure, he'd been fooled at first with Sam’s philandering. But then Sam had called the bartender Tom. The bald bartender whose name had actually been Mike. But who was he to burst his brother's bubble. Let him think he had won. After all, Dean could think of other ways… other more enjoyable ways to get his brother back.
He was quite looking forward to it.
THE END
Sam simply staggered on, more leaning than walking on his own volition as he slurred, "Dean you're pretty."
Dean grinned. "Thanks Sam. Want any more to drink?" he asked brightly
For one second, just a small tiny second, he felt guilty. Guilty for getting his brother drunk like this.
But this was the only way he could get what he wanted.
They had spent a wonderful night together, lips and teeth and hands and skin, both exploring each other.
And then nothing.
Sammy hadn’t said anything.
Dean hadn’t either.
And for a whole week, they’d gone back to the way things were before. But Dean couldn't live with 'before' anymore. He wanted what they had that fateful night
"Dean, kiss me" Sam slurred again.
Dean thought Sam'd never ask
He gripped Sam’s shoulders’ keeping his little brother upright as he pressed his lips against Sam's, tongue invading and caressing those sweet caverns. God, Sam was such a lightweight. Two beers and he was singing karaoke. But he did wonder why he waited this long to kiss his brother. Cassie, Lisa, all those random girls he'd picked up didn't compare to the innocent, hesitant lips of his brother
"Deanie," Sam said as they broke the kiss.
Dean's eyebrows rose. Sam hadn't called him ‘Deanie’ since they were kids.
"Did you think that barman was cute?"
And all Dean could think of was: What? I kiss you and you talk about is the barman?
Or was he losing his touch?
“He said I could meet him at his motel room. Can I go? Huh? Please, Deanie? Please?”
And God, Sam sounded like the five year old he used to be. The one who would stick out his bottom lip and make it quiver, widen his eyes to the point that the air stinging it would cause them to water; thus ensuring him all the Lucky Charms and Spaghetti-O’s he could eat, as well as many games of Indians and Cowboys, Cops and Robbers, and Mummies and Daddies (yes, Sam really was a girl when he was young) as Sam wanted.
Dean growled, grabbing a fistful of Sam’s shirt and ramming his baby brother over to the alley wall. Pinning the very drunk Sammy up against the wall, he ground into him, rubbing their imprisoned cocks together.
"But cutie at the bar -"
Sam's words were cut off when Dean smacked his lips against his brother's, shutting him up. And finally, blessed quiet. Quiet to enjoy the firm hand Sammy apparently needed.
Dean had wanted to be gentle.
But there was nothing gentle about the way his rough and impatient fingers all but tore down those irritating jeans, placing possessive kisses along his brother’s face, throats and (teeth nipping away the equally irritating shirt) upper shoulders.
As Dean stroked him, there was no more mention of this pesky barman. Of course, that didn't mean Dean wouldn't be visiting said barman for a friendly "Keep the fuck away from my little brother OR ELSE" chat.
Dean turned Sam to hug the wall, relishing Sam's gasp as he nudged his cock through the walls that only HE had graced.
To his surprise, he wasn't met with any resistance (although Sam’s body was as velvety soft as he remembered), and that only made him push harder. And made him even more pissed. It meant that Sam had prepared himself for the "cutie barman."
Dean reached around and grasped his brother's throbbing member, giving it a punishing squeeze. His thrusting was equally forceful (and what a divine ass - God’s gift to the world, in Dean’s opinion) as he pumped the cock in his hand in a matching rhythm. His mouth tracing along Sam's shoulders, he bit down, marking his brother.
See if that stupid barman dared to EVER look in his brother's general direction again.
Marking Sam evidently agreed with his brother as he began pushing back against Dean, trying to drive Dean further and further into him.
Dean stiffened before his release erupted, Sam not far behind him.
“Thanks Tom. Cutie," Sam smiled, falling backwards into Dean's waiting arms before promptly falling asleep.
***
Later that night, as they lay together on the King size bed in the 'only free room' the motel boasted (even though there were no other cars in the parking lot), each were lost in their own thoughts.
Sam, for the most part, was purring his satisfaction like a cat. They had gone for a week without discussing 'It (as he was coming to call what happened between them). But he was a bit embarrassed and stupid Dean was too macho for the impending chick flick moment. Luckily, pretending to be interested in the barman seemed to have done the trick.
As for Dean He could read his brother like an open book. He knew what he was up to. Oh sure, he'd been fooled at first with Sam’s philandering. But then Sam had called the bartender Tom. The bald bartender whose name had actually been Mike. But who was he to burst his brother's bubble. Let him think he had won. After all, Dean could think of other ways… other more enjoyable ways to get his brother back.
He was quite looking forward to it.
THE END