Natural Progression

*PREVIOUSLY POSTED TO LIVEJOURAL IN MAY OF 2008*
Pairing: Sam/Dean, mentions of Dean/OFC and Dean/OMCs
Warnings: Some het sex, snowballing, dub-con, and some rough sex. Oh, and a mention of toys.
Words: 3,137
A/N: Still remains one of my most popular stories, though I have no idea why. It's far from one of my favorites.

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It's long past midnight, and Dean can't sleep.

It's not that it doesn't happen often, but tonight is a little different. Dean had come home late, stumbling in after a night of fucking, and Sam had just rolled his eyes in his general direction and went about his business.

That isn't what's so different about the night though. Dean often stumbles in after hours, still stinking of sex.

The sex itself, however, is a different story.

Dean likes to think he's a kinky person. He's been having sex long enough that if he wasn't at least a little open to something new, he probably would have gotten bored a long time ago. But as it stands, there are still things that can surprise him, even with this much experience under his belt.

This girl had been very wild, feisty and raring to go, and Dean loved that... to a point. A point which stopped when girls got the genius idea of putting things in his ass. Not that Dean hadn't tried it before, he's not afraid to admit that, but it was a little different when someone else was doing it to you, especially if they just slipped it in during a fantastic blowjob and hit the switch. Really, it was unfair to make Dean choose between getting the damn thing out of there, or stopping what the girl was doing with her deliciously dirty mouth.

The problem was that Dean didn't have to think about it for long, because the toy had hit him just right inside and his hips pushed off the bed so fast, the girl didn't have any choice but to deepthroat him (not that she had any problems with that anyway) and it wasn't long before he came harder then ever before in his life.

But that isn't the part disturbing him. It's not the first time a chick has tried something like that on him, and he's sure it isn't going to be the last, because for some reason bars just attract girls like that.

What disturbs him is then she had leaned up, after he had come in her mouth, kissing him deep while pushing his own semen back into his mouth.

He had sputtered for a few seconds, not sure what to do, before he swallowed it down, and she had just grinned at him and asked him how it was. The thing is, it wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. He doesn't see what the big deal is over swallowing a little come.

Dean wonders out loud at this thought, “Is it gay to swallow your own semen?”

He hears a quick intake of breath from the bed next to him, and for a long, horrifying moment, Dean thinks that Sam's awake, then his breathing evens out and Sam gives a soft snore. Dean lets out the breath he's holding, relaxing back into his bed.

Dean doesn't think about it again until he's in the shower the next night, fingers covered in come after a long session with his hand. He just stares at the come-stained digits for a moment, before he brings them up to his mouth without even thinking, his tongue darting out to taste himself again.

And that's when his thoughts take a dark turn, as he's licking his own come from his hand, the spray of the shower long forgotten; he's wondering if other guys taste differently, if maybe even Sammy tastes differently. But he stomps that thought down quickly with a shudder and turns to shut the shower off and towel himself down.

Later that night, he finds himself in a dark, dirty alley next to the bar, some stranger's cock in his mouth, the guy's hands tangled in his hair as he's trying hard to get him off so he can taste the difference for himself.

Dean's never really been curious about guys before. Sure, he looked sometimes while Sam wandered around in a towel, but that was only because he couldn't help himself, it was an automatic response when anyone wandered around showing that much skin. It didn't mean anything. Besides, Sam was his brother, that was just wrong.

This guy, however, isn't his brother and while Dean doesn't find him particularly attractive, he can't deny that he's completely turned on by the cock throbbing hot in his mouth. Maybe it's more about how dirty it feels, to be on his knees in some back alley while Sam thinks he's in the bathroom taking a piss, but he's growing harder than he's ever been in his life.

His fingers find themselves around his dick, trying hard to push thoughts of Sam out of his head as he swallows hard around the other guy's cock, trying to take as much into his throat as he can.

Finally, the other man's fingers tighten in his hair, and he's coming with a loud drawn-out moan, and Dean's swallowing every last drop, comparing flavors to his own.

Dean doesn't really taste the difference, but he thinks, as he comes into his own hand, that he has sated his curiosity on the subject, and no further experimentation will be needed. Not that he minds, because honestly, he doesn't want to make a habit out of this whole sucking guys off in alleyways. It would be hard to keep his manly image if that ever got out, especially to his little brother. It's best to just think of this subject as closed.

Less than a week later, however, Dean finds himself in a men's bathroom, panting beneath some guy who has his thick hand wrapped around Dean's dick. He doesn't really know how it happened. One minute he's taking a piss and the next minute he has his hand down the front of this guy's jeans. It's not like he planned it. He's thankful, though, that the guy's gripping his cock, stroking it as he's pushing Dean apart with lube-slicked fingers before he slides in, condom lubed up well enough so that the pain is only slight.

It's not how Dean imagined his first time with a guy, not that he had thought about it at all other than that quick blowjob he gave, but he's being pressed against the wall of the bathroom stall, and he's bracing his hands against it, pushing himself back on the guy's cock like a cheap whore. Dean doesn't even know the guy's name, just that his cock is stroking across Dean's prostate in the most delicious way, and he realizes as he slams his hips back again, building up a rhythm, that he really doesn't care.

Or at least, he didn't care until the stall door banged open and his little brother stood in the doorway, all three of them frozen in shock.

“Dean?” Sam finally manages weakly, after a moment, his face completely drained of color as he takes in the scene, and there's no way to deny what it is. Dean's being pushed into the wall of a men's room, his jeans round his ankles with some stranger's cock buried deep inside him.

Dean's squirming hard against the other man, who still has yet to move. He's just staring at Sam with wide eyes, probably not sure what to do, because how often does one get caught fucking a man in the restroom of a local dive bar? But Dean's still hard, and Sam's not looking like he wants to leave anytime soon, stuttering and staring at Dean's ass with a dark blush burning across his cheeks.

“Sam...” He tries to threaten in his big brother voice, but it comes out as a moan instead.

That seems to do it though. Sam snaps out of his trance and backs out of the stall, quickly closing the door behind him before he exits the bathroom altogether.

They finish quickly and Dean tries not to think about the blush spreading across Sam's face as he comes.

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“So, Dean... How long have you been gay?" Sam says it so casually that Dean almost thinks he's talking about the weather for a moment.

But he catches himself, and answers as calmly as he can considering he's been waiting for the other shoe to drop for over a week now. He's just wondering why Sam decided a busy diner was the best place for this conversation.

“I'm not gay, Sammy,” Dean tells him with a roll of his eyes. “I wasn't naked. It's only gay if you're naked. I thought everyone knew that." Dean takes a huge bite out of his sandwich as Sam stares at him. For a moment, he thinks Sam's going to drop the issue, because his little brother huffs and throws his hands up, as if knowing he's not going to get anywhere with him. Dean just grins at him, thinking himself to be the victor.

But after they continue on with their meal, Sam mutters, “Okay, Dean, whatever you need to tell yourself to get through the day.”

“I'm not gay. Really,” Dean assures him the best he can, because really, he doesn't even want to think about this anymore, let alone discuss this with his baby brother. He takes a deep drink from his glass, trying to signal to Sam that this conversation is over.

But Sam obviously didn't understand the sign because he says with a grin, “Dean, that guy was filling you out like an application.”

And Dean tries hard not to spray the liquid out all over Sam's smug face.

“It wasn't like that, Sammy! I was undoing my pants to take a piss and he slipped and his dick just happened to end up in my ass! Honestly! It wasn't gay!” Dean's voice is rising louder and louder with each panicked word. By the time he finishes his speech the entire diner is staring at him, the whole room holding its breath, completely stopped in mid-bite.

Dean swallows hard and sinks into his seat, feeling completely mortified until the room's conversation picks up again.

Unfortunately for Dean, Sam also decides this is a good time to strike the conversation back up.

“It's okay, Dean... You'll always be my big brother, no matter what. You don't have to pretend to be something you're not for me,” Sam tells him with a sly grin. “Besides, there was this one time in college --”

“Oh, my God, Sam, I swear to God, if you finish that sentence I'm going to lock you in the trunk.”

Sam must have gotten the point this time, because the rest of the meal passes in near silence.

It isn't until they get to the car and they're a good forty miles down the road with no place to pull off in sight that Sam starts up again.

“Really, Dean, it's alright if you like guys, I'm not going to judge you.”

If it wouldn't have hurt his baby, Dean might have crashed the car out of spite.

He clenches his teeth and stares straight ahead at the road, and consequently nearly explodes out of his skin when Sam's broad palm finds its way just above his knee. He bites the inside of his cheek and tries to pretend that it's completely normal for his brother to be sliding his warm hand up the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to his cock.

His breath is catching in his throat and he's trying so hard not to look at Sam.

“Hey, Dean, this isn't bothering you, is it? I mean, with you being completely straight and all,” Sam says, and Dean can hear the smugness in his voice. He doesn't have to look over to know that Sam's dimples are showing, and probably also his teeth.

“I'm going to kill you,” he manages to grit out, just before Sam's palm covers the hard-on stretching out his jeans.

Dean doesn't really know what happens after that, the next few minutes are a blur of Sam's hands, and the Impala screeching to a halt on the side of the road, but he somehow finds himself with his pants around his ankles and Sam's fingers spreading him apart roughly while his stomach presses against the hood of the Impala. The engine's still hot, and it's spreading fire through his chest and stomach, even through his t-shirt, as Sam shoves into him, thick cock spreading him open so much farther than the stranger from days ago.

Sam's gripping his hips with a bruising force and Dean's pushing back against him, trying to take as much of Sam as he can. He doesn't think about how Sam obviously knows what he's doing, dragging his cock across his prostate with every stroke, doesn't think about anything really, other than wrapping his fingers around his dick, caught between the overheated hood of the Impala and his own body, and pulling mindlessly.

And it's not long before he's clenching around Sam's cock in his ass, coming so hard he nearly passes out right there.

He doesn't think Sam's come yet, but he's pulling out of him, and Dean doesn't understand why he feels so disappointed until Sam turns him around and pushes him onto his knees until he's staring face to face with Sam's impressive cock, still hard and throbbing.

So he does the first thing he can think to do. Wraps his lips around it, and brings Sam off in his mouth, savoring the flavor of his brother against his tongue as he swallows him down. Sam's head is thrown back, and for a moment Dean can only think about how hot it is to have Sam's spent cock still in his mouth while Sam's clutching at his hair with lube-slicked fingers.

But it only lasts a moment, because he comes back to himself with a long swallow, pushing himself up from his knees -- now red and angry from the sharp gravel that had been biting into them -- and yanking his pants up as fast as he can.

Sam's half-lidded eyes are staring into Dean's wide ones, both of them holding their breath as they look at each other until Dean finally breaks the silence between them with a, “I'm still not gay, Sammy,” said with such conviction that Dean can believe it completely.

Sam rolls his eyes, and pushes Dean a little, until he loses his balance and falls against the hood of his beloved car.

“Dean, you might as well just build a house there in Egypt, because you're obviously never leaving.” Sam's pissed off, and Dean's not really sure why, because it's not like Sam left him any choice in the matter but to go along with it.

“It's not like we were naked, Sam. And besides, you didn't even come in my ass. It's only gay if you come inside me.”

Sam's just pulling his pants back up around his hips and walking around to the passenger door.

“Just get in the car.”

Dean doesn't have to be told twice. He slides into the driver's seat with a slight wince, and starts the car back up, pulling back onto the deserted road.

It's nearing midnight when they reach the first rundown motel in the tiny town, neon sign flashing 'vacancy'. Dean goes into the office to get a room. "Two queens," he tells the man, because it would be gay to sleep in the same bed after Sam had his cock up his ass, right?

Sam's still pissed at him as they carry their gear into the room and drop it down on one of the beds. Dean just heads immediately for the shower, figuring it's a good chance to let Sam cool down.

When Dean walks back into the room, towel tied tightly around his waist, Sam's sitting at his computer, looking much calmer than before. Dean lets out a sigh of relief and turns to his duffle, pulling out a pair of clean boxers.

And that's when Sam strikes, pushing him to the bed on his stomach and pulling the towel off from around his hips.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean asks, trying hard not to panic, but Sam's not making it easy.

He doesn't say anything, just drags Dean onto his hands and knees, pulling his hips back to Sam's, letting him feel his erection through his jeans. And Dean thinks he gets it, he really does.

“Geez, Sam, I know I'm hot, but really, have some self-control.”

Sam still doesn't say anything, just tears at his own clothes until there isn't a shred of cloth between them, and then presses his fingers, lube-slicked, into Dean's ass.

Dean opens his mouth to protest, but Sam's pushing his cock into Dean's ass before any words can come out, pressing into him until he's seated completely inside him and Dean suddenly finds himself utterly speechless and completely turned on.

Sam's cock is sliding over Dean's prostate for the second time that day, and Dean doesn't know how long he can last, because Sam's skin against his is the hottest thing he's ever felt in his life. There's a steady rhythm of flesh hitting flesh as Sam thrusts continuously into him at a break-neck pace with no mercy at all, and Dean doesn't really mind, pushing back with just as much enthusiasm.

“Harder!” Dean tells him before he can even think about it, and Sam obliges, pounding into Dean's ass with all his power, cock drawing almost all the way out before he plunges back in all the way to the hilt.

Dean's head is hanging between his shoulders now, breath coming in harsh pants, and Sam's hand is coming down to snake between Dean's legs and pull on his aching cock. It only takes a few strokes and Dean's coming so hard -- muscles constricting around Sam -- that he thinks he might pass out.

That's all it takes for Sam to lose it too, hot come rushing into Dean's insides, before he pulls out and they both collapse on the bed in a tired heap.

It's well past midnight now, the early morning light just slipping in under the thick curtains, and both of them are lying together, Sam's arms wrapped around Dean's naked, sweat-slicked body.

“Sammy....?” Dean's voice is smaller than he's hoping for, weakly reaching out for Sam in the dark despite the fact that he's wrapped around him.

“What?” Sam asks back, sounding annoyed and half-asleep, but Dean doesn't think this can wait, because he's having a bit of a breakdown here.

“I think I might be gay,” he finally says after a moment of silence, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest as the words leave his mouth.

“Just go to sleep, Dean.”

So he does.

END.