Right With the World
For spn_j2_xmas Thank you so much to the mods for their patience and persistence. You all rock. I got several likes in here for
When Sam gets it into his head he wants something it’s really hard to say no. Dean knows that for an absolute fact. Of course, when it’s something Dean wants too, it’s a little easier to find his way to yes. Right now, though, Sam’s crouched on the grass in front of a circular wire enclosure holding a litter of yipping, roly poly puppies. Dean can’t see Sam’s face but he knows the delighted, lip caught between his teeth expression by heart as his brother scritches fluffy ears on a trio of wriggling fuzzballs, fingers stretched through holes in the fencing. Dean likes dogs as much as the next guy. He’s happy to pat a friendly one on the head when he passes it on the street but he’s never met one he wants to take home for keeps.
“Dean?” Sam doesn’t turn around but he drops to his knees, hands still busy with puppies, and tilts his ass enticingly.
Dean snorts softly and rolls his eyes. He doesn’t need to hand his brother a puppy to get what’s on offer there. ”No. It’s hard enough keeping you in food. Don’t even get me started on housebreaking.” He eyes the pups’ mother, a mountain of black hair and drool, flat on her side on the far side of the pen. The pups that aren’t yipping with excitement as Sam rubs their bellies are peacefully stretched out along their mom having lunch.
“Do we have to go?” Sam turns to look at Dean, bangs falling into his eyes. One of the pups licks frantically at Sam’s thumb, trying to get his attention back where it belongs.
“Nah, we got some time.” Dean plants himself on a wooden crate of dog food and settles in for a pastime he never gets tired of- watching Sam, who’s turned his attention back to the pups. It’s two weeks into July, the sun is beating down and Sam needs a haircut. Thick strands curl around the base of his neck and Dean can see the sweat pooling underneath, darkening the collar of his t-shirt. Dean shifts on the crate and watches a trickle of liquid working its way down his brother’s back before catching himself checking out Sam’s shoulders. At just past seventeen Sam’s put on a few inches and has started to fill out, but Dean reckons he’s still got a ways to go in a lot of spots.. He’s definitely looking forward to a few of Sam’s upcoming growth spurts.
“Good pup”, Sam says, when one settles onto its haunches in front of him. “Look at you, learning sit already. Wish I could give you a treat.”
“Plenty of kibble here in the crate.” Dean stands up and lifts the lid. Marcy, who breeds the Newfies, is used to Sam hanging around and is pretty easy going about him interacting with the puppies.
“They’re too little for kibble, Dean. I’d have to give them milk and they’ve got a really good supply of that already.” Sam laughs as his pups tumble across the grass and flop down next to their siblings to fill their bellies. He groans softly as he gets to his feet, bending to wipe blades of grass off the knees of his jeans before glancing up at his brother. “They’re working dogs, you know. Bred for rescue. Could be useful.”
“Look.” Dean cocks his eyebrow and whacks Sam on the shoulder. "You don't need Lassie to rescue you. You've got me to drag your ass out of any well you might fall into. Besides, look at the mom! It'd be like having a drooly, stinky bear taking up the whole back seat."
"So?" Sam whacks Dean right back. “It’s not like you smell like roses either.”
Dean just shakes his head. Sam knows they can't have a dog but- "So," he whispers, leaning in close, his breath warm against the tanned shell of his brother's ear, "then there'll be no room for us."
Sam's soft sigh drifts across Dean's cheek. "That’s a good point. Means there's room for us right now, though." He grabs Dean's hand and steps back, a grin dimpling his cheeks. "How about we go for a drive?”
Dean considers for a fraction of a second. There’s a few hours before they have to be at the cafe for their dishwashing shift and he can’t think of a better way to spend them than some quality fooling around with Sam time. “Race you to the car!”
Sam’s gone in a flash, sneakered feet flying across the grass to the gravel parking lot. Dean’s not far behind, watching his brother move, marveling at the grace in Sam’s movements where six months before had been gangly teenage awkwardness. It’s beyond him, this thing that they have, but he’s so far gone into it now, he’s sure he’s never coming back. When their father pulls back in to the East Bumfuck, Oklahoma town he’d dropped them in for the summer, they’ll have to figure something out. But for now, dodging locals during backseat make out sessions is more than enough to deal with.
“Mackles Pond, Streeter’s Eddy or out behind the old Wainwright place," Dean asks as they slide into the front seat.
"Wainwright, I think. Gonna be a lot of people out fishing or swimming today."
"Not the sort of folks who would appreciate a show." Dean wheels the Impala out of the parking lot and heads out along the road through the empty parking lots and run down buildings that pass for a business district. "Gonna be hot as hell at Wainwrights."
"Their loss." Sam peels his shirt off and runs a hand across his sweat slicked chest, flashing a filthy grin. "And yes, it's going to be hot as all hell."
"I'm driving here, Sammy," Dean groans out. "Can't you wait at least until we're on the access road?"
“Nope.” Sam slides his hand further down and slips it under the waist of his jeans. “Want to make sure you’re all ready when we get there. Don’t want to waste any time.”
Dean tries to keep his eyes on the road as his brother undoes the button of his jeans and slides down the zipper. He blows out a shaky breath as Sam pulls out his dick, already half hard and begins to stroke his thumb across the head. “Looks like you’re going to be the one who’s all ready when we get there.”
Sam casts an amused glance at Dean’s crotch, already tight as his own dick swells. “Oh, I think you’ll catch up.”
Sam’s hand moves faster and the whimpers and moans he’s letting out have Dean’s foot pressing the accelerator to well over the speed limit. The only time Sam gives it a rest is when Janet, the clerk at their motel, passes the other way in her pickup. Sam drops his t-shirt onto his lap when he sees the truck coming and gives her a friendly wave with his non-jerking off hand.
“You might want to slow down here,” he says as they approach the local speed trap. “Officer Stokely pulling us over would seriously cut into our alone time.”
“Screw Officer Stuckey,” Dean mutters.
“Not while I’m around,” Sam says.
“Possessive little bastard, aren’t you?” Dean laughs at his brother’s scowl, still gobsmacked at what he and Sam just tumbled into with a single kiss pressed to Dean’s lips the day Sam turned sixteen. One wrong thing led to another and then another and Sam was so utterly convinced it was right that Dean followed him right down the path. If he was honest, and in this case he was willing to be, it hadn’t taken a whole lot of convincing. He’d been helplessly head over heels for Sammy for years. He slows down though. Sam is getting him hot and bothered, and he wants to get the show on the road just as much as his brother does.
“Road’s coming up,” Sam says helpfully, between moans.
Dean takes the turn with a squeal of tires, barely slowing enough to avoid fishtailing on the cracked asphalt. About a mile down the road the dilapidated house of the Wainwright’s abandoned farm comes into view and Dean drives past them before making a sharp right to pull up behind the sagging barn. Sam’s way ahead in the undressing race, kicking off his shoes before dropping his jeans in the passenger seat well. Dean bites his lip as Sam slithers over the seat, ass tantalizingly close to his face.
“C’mon, dude, Get back here!”
Dean casts a glance over his shoulder and lets out a shuddering breath. Sam is settled in the corner, back against the passenger window, one foot on the seat and the other planted on the floor. He’s watching Dean through slitted eyes, mouth open and panting as his hand strokes his straining cock. Dean’s out of the front seat and pressed up against Sam in the back in seconds. He’ll catch up in the nakedness department in a minute. Sam’s hair is soft and damp in his hands, Sam’s lips parting beneath his, Sam’s tongue darting into his mouth. Then Sam’s hands are on his chest pushing him backwards until he’s scuttling backwards across the seat until his back is against the door. Dean’s hands move to his belt but Sam bats them away.
“Let me,” he says, tongue pink between his lips as he undoes the buckle, the button and the zipper. “Up.”
Dean lifts his ass off the seat and grabs the nearest seatback with each hand as Sam dives down onto his cock. If he hadn’t been hard already, his brother’s soft licks across its head would have gotten him there in record time.
“God,” Sam whispers reverently, tongue laving Dean’s shaft with long, wet strokes and though Dean’s got no interest in God, he can’t help but agree that Sam’s mouth is a religious experience. “Let me, please.
Dean’s not letting Sam do a damn thing and Sam knows good and well he doesn’t have to beg for it. When it comes to this, Sam’s always in the driver’s seat. His enthusiasm for sucking Dean’s cock is like nothing Dean has ever seen and that includes Sam’s interactions with puppies and librarians handing him books on ancient Egypt. Musings on Sam’s other enthusiasms go out the window as his mouth engulfs Dean’s cock, sucking hard around the head before taking him in as far as he can. He’s working on deep throating but he’s not there yet and his hand twists in the slick spit he’s left on the bit of his brother’s flesh he can’t fit in. Dean’s fine with giving him lots of practice. Sam’s mouth is wet and hot, drool dripping down his chin. He’s slurping around the dick in his mouth like it’s a popsicle he can’t get enough of and Dean’s hips thrust up to meet his brother’s downward head bobs. The air in the Impala is ripe with filthy praise for Sam’s oral talents.
“Fuck, Sam, yes, oh, god, right there, yes, harder, yes, come on, make it last, baby, just a little more, take just a little more, more tongue, right there, oh, shit, swirl it, fuck, oh Sammy, Sammy, Sammy” Dean finishes on a half scream of his brother’s name as Sam’s mouth tightens further around his dick, tongue moving in a way Dean would have sworn was impossible. He’s got to remember the technique next time he’s got Sam’s cock between his lips.
Sam looks up, shaking his soaked hair out of his eyes. His mouth curves up in a satisfied grin, lips plump and coated with spunk. “Was it good for you?”
“Always,” Dean says, running a thumb along Sam’s lips and groaning as Sam sucks it into his mouth. “Okay, that’s, I mean, that’s hot, but it’s your turn now. Got to return the favor, here.”
“Uh.” Sam levers himself to his knees and gives Dean a look at his soft cock, semen streaking his thighs and belly, pooling on the seat beneath him. “Kind of jumped the gun here, sorry.”
“You came just from sucking my cock? Wow. I mean, damn. Well, I owe you, man. After our shift tonight, your choice as to how I get you off.”
“Gonna ride you, Dean. That’s how we’re going to do it.” He leans in to take a whiff of his brother, also dripping sweat in the heat of the car’s interior. Grinning he waves a hand at the spit and semen coating the seat. “You know, a stinky, drooly dog might make less of a mess than us.”
“Yeah, not as much fun, though.”
Sam tilts his head like he’s actually thinking about this, before laughing and nodding. “Not nearly as much fun.” He grabs his t-shirt and wipes off the seat before clambering back into the front and pulling his jeans on. Dean’s still in the back breathing like he just ran a marathon.
“Come on, man. Do up your pants and get up here. We’ve still got a little time to stop by the pond for a dip before work.”
Dean pulls the Impala back onto the road, wincing as the sun spears through the windshield. He stretches his arm out along the seat and Sam leans his head back onto it. A refreshing swim with Sam all tanned and wet and with the prospect of more outrageously hot sex later makes the upcoming shift washing dishes almost worthwhile. And Sam seems to be off the quest for a puppy- for now. He lets out a contented sigh and as Sam echoes it all is right with his world.