The Hush

A bloody sunset stains the sky, spreading red-orange pools through the sullen haze. The air lies in humid slabs, pressing heat through it until everything is damp, wrung out with the effort of moving or even breathing. It is perfectly quiet, as if the coming night is holding its breath until things cool down.



The cheap motel curtains hang slack, not even the hint of a breeze stirring them. The room is still.



The bed creaks. A sigh, an exhalation, a moan, weave themselves into the motionless air.



“Sammy…Sammy…I…ah!”



Dean is sprawled on his stomach. His right leg is drawn up next to him, spreading him wide. Sweat is pouring off him, soaking the pillows and the sheets beneath. Sam is flat on his stomach between Dean’s thighs, holding him open. Sam’s sweat-soaked hair strokes Dean, a counterpoint to the strokes of his tongue, licking him in circles, in spirals, until he is dizzy with it.



“Stay still…” Sam murmurs, voice barely penetrating the darkening air of the room. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”



Sam slides his fingers up Dean’s thighs and turns him over, slinging Dean’s left leg over his right shoulder. He leans in, resting his forehead on Dean’s, staring into his eyes. One sweat-slick finger enters Dean, and he shudders. He looks wildly up at Sam, his eyes wide. Sam’s left hand curls gently around Dean’s dick.



Sam describes circles, massaging him, sliding in a second finger. Dean clutches the sheets; sweat running into his eyes like tears.



“It hurts…?” Sam peers through wet bangs at Dean.



“…No, no.” Dean gasps. He arches up, his body an invitation. He bites sweat-salty lips as Sam slides a third tapered finger in next to the first two. They slowly work in and out, Dean rocking into their movement.



The only sound is the harsh rhythm of Dean’s panting and Sam’s murmurs as Sam opens Dean and Dean comes undone. Sam moves between Dean’s legs and slowly removes his fingers. His palms are hot and slippery on Dean’s hips as he positions Dean under him. Sam’s dick is a slick-stinging intrusion and Dean moans low in his throat as their skins meet and slide together.



Dean gasps out Sam’s name. His knees are up around his shoulders, bunched close to his ears, his hands clenched in the sheets. The push of Sam inside and the pull of Sam outside floods Dean’s senses and he comes. Quietly, eyes wide and staring into Sam’s, teeth bared and neck arched, he spills across Sam’s hand and his own belly. Sam is not far behind, exhaling a breath across Dean’s lips in a surprised-sounding gasp as he shakes into his orgasm and empties into Dean.



Dean collapses boneless beneath Sam, wrung out. Sam pulls out gently and sprawls next to Dean. They don’t speak, catching their breath. Sam combs his fingers through Dean’s hair gently while Dean swallows and closes his eyes. He slowly falls asleep in the deepening hush of the evening.



Outside, a big yellow moon ascends into the hazy sky, light diffusing into a lemon-colored veil, as the mosquitoes begin to buzz.