Nights In Pink Satin

A/N: Title derived from the classic tune by The Moody Blues. Major thanks to Bru for discouraging hyphen abuse and educating me about em-dashes, and to Dream for the boyshorts & Sam's huge ass.

~~~~~ NIGHTS IN PINK SATIN ~~~~~



“Man, I'm getting too old for this shit,” Dean said as he burst into their motel room and flicked on the lights. “That was one crazy-ass vamp.” He dumped his duffle on the floor and shrugged out of his jacket before Sam had even entered the room.

“She was something, that's for sure,” Sam agreed, closing and dead-bolting the door. “Are you okay? You took quite a tumble back there.”

Dean nodded, gingerly touching the scratches to the left side of his face. “Yeah. These better not scar, though.”

“Don't think they'll scar, Dean. They're not deep enough.”

“I didn't know those press-on nails could do so much damage.”

“Her fingernails were real,” Sam said through a smirk as he laid his jacket on the bed. “Pretty weird, since she was a licensed manicurist.”

“Then there oughta be a law against 'em if they're that long.” Dean stretched, rolling his shoulders and bending down to touch his toes. “Those Asian nail places need some serious regulation.”

“Hey, dude, you've ripped the crap out of your jeans,” Sam interrupted, staring at the swell of Dean's squarish ass. “Musta happened when the vamp threw you down that embankment.”

“Shit. These are my favorites.” Dean moved in front of the mirror to get a better view. “Fucking bitch! If she weren't already dead, I'd kill her.” He stuck his fingers in the sizable rip. “Man, no way these can be fixed.”

Sam stepped closer, bending forward to peer at the tear. “Uh, Dean, what the—”

Dean immediately stopped fussing with his jeans. “Well, no use cryin' over ripped jeans. Think I'm gonna jump in the shower first, if you don't mind.” He headed toward the bathroom as if a hellhound were on his tail.

“Hang on a minute,” Sam called out.

“What?”

Sam caught up and turned him around to examine the rip.

“Man, I just wanna hose off, okay?”

“Wait a sec.” Sam bent down, pulling at the torn denim and probing inside of it with his fingers.

“Dude, I know I've got a sweet ass, but—”

“Are you wearing pink underwear?”

Dean whirled around, shrugging. “No. Well, yeah. I mean, I goofed up the laundry the last time. That red Henley of mine got mixed up with the whites—”

“You don't wear whities. Besides, those aren't cotton, man.”

“They're not?”

“They felt like satin.”

“Satin. Satin? No way.” Dean sputtered, planting his hands on his hips. He stared at Sam for a minute before throwing up his arms. “Fine. Ya got me.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, carefully pushing them down and stepping out of them. “Go ahead, get your licks in.”

Sam goggled at the sight of his over-compensating, macho brother sporting what were clearly ladies' panties. Pink panties. They resembled men's Speedos, but were cut just a tad larger. But definitely ladies' panties, minus the tiny roses for decoration. Sam knew he was grinning from ear to ear, but couldn't help it. The panties actually looked pretty damn good on Dean, accenting the swell of his bulge rather nicely.

And they left nothing to the imagination.

Nothing.

“Uh, wow. I'd have never guessed that you'd get into that sort of thing.”

Dean shrugged. “Rhonda Hurley.”

“Who?”

“Rhonda Hurley. Some chick I chased after when I was nineteen. Before she'd let me fuck her, she made me wear her panties.” He scratched at his belly, staring at the carpet. “And I kinda liked it.”

“Okay—”

“I sorta thought of her the other day, Rhonda, and remembered...stuff. About how good it felt. Since we're not getting any younger, and it being the Apocalypse and all, why not grab onto whatever feels good, right?”

Sam nodded, totally at a loss.

“So when you went to the courthouse to track down vamp bitch yesterday, I decided to go on another kind of hunt.” Dean bristled at Sam's bemused expression. “What?”

“I'm just having trouble picturing you lurking around the lingerie section at Wal-Mart.”

“Screw that place, man. If I'm gonna do something, I do it right. These are boyshorts from Victoria's Secret.”

“Yeah, of course. Boyshorts. That makes all the difference.”

“Hey, I'd like to see you in a chick's store, shopping for that huge ass of yours. I had to guess the size, 'cause I sure as hell couldn't slip into a fitting room to try anything on.”

“But guys shop there all the time, Dean. The place caters to men buying stuff for women.”

“Exactly. But not men buying stuff for themselves.”

“You'd be surprised.”

Dean pulled a face. “Whatever. Anyway, I told the saleslady these were for my girlfriend. I hate fuckin' mall clerks, though. They always try to upsell and push other stuff.”

Sam stepped closer, unable to conceal his giggles. “Wow,” he repeated. “So you didn't go ahead and get that black lace teddy after all?”

“Fuck off, Sasquatch,” Dean shot back. “These are really comfortable. And you're one to talk. Who is it that gets all bitchy when they miss Project Runway?” He turned to head toward the bathroom again, but Sam caught his arm.

“No, man, it's cool, really. I'm laughing because you thought that you had to hide...this...from me.”

Dean eyed his brother as if he'd sprouted horns. “You're not grossed out?”

“I'm not sure if pink's your color,” Sam said, slowly turning Dean around to get a good look at his backside. “But they sure make your ass look hotter than ever.” He ran his big hand over the firm curve of Dean's butt. “Wow. Silky smooth.”

“Alright, that's enough,” Dean snarled, pulling away.

“C'mon, don't be so sensitive.” Sam ran his hands down Dean's torso, pausing a second before sliding them over his satin-clad hips.

“They are pretty smooth,” Dean admitted. “And I like 'em 'cause they don't have all that frilly stuff or fake little roses all over 'em."

“Well, I like 'em, too.” One of Sam's hands strayed to trace the lump of Dean's stiffening erection. “They're hot on you, man.” Sam pulled him in tight, pushing his own hardening cock to Dean's. “Really hot.”

“I guess I shoulda shown you sooner,” Dean breathed, leaning in to suckle the base of Sam's neck. “I had no idea they'd be such a turn on.”

“Mmmm, yeah, they definitely are,” Sam growled. “And it's totally cool. Everyone's got their kinks.”

“Yeah? Like you have any?” Dean murmured, thrusting his hips into Sam while kneading Sam's ass with both hands.

“Let's just say that it's a total bitch to find pantyhose in my size,” Sam replied before capturing Dean's lips in a scorching kiss.


~~~~~~~ fin ~~~~~~~