![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
springflingmod.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
spn_springflingTitle: Love You Wild
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Dean sighs easily as Sam’s weight settles heavy and warm along his side. It’s already hot as sin out despite the fact the sun has been down just about an hour. The air is thick and makes them both sticky, but Dean doesn’t mind. He takes a swig of his beer and then passes it to his kid brother, pressing it to Sam’s hand where it lazily traces lines on Dean’s denim-clad thigh, light and teasing enough that Dean’s dick has been at half-mast the better part of this whole bottle they’re sharing, even if Sam is just doing it absentmindedly. His brother’s long fingers curl around the bottle, brushing Dean’s before he relinquishes it fully, and the condensation runs down the glass and over Sam’s knuckles, catching little pockets of moonlight.
Sam lets out an honest to God giggle as he brings it to his mouth, and Dean can only grin wickedly at how much of a lightweight Sam is. Sure, he’s only sixteen, but he’s also unfairly giant, taller than Dean now after his latest growth spurt. He has a long way yet to go to fill out though, and Dean squeezes his fingers around Sam’s still tiny waist with his other hand, cherishing that Sam is still his little brother in some ways, at least.
Sam finishes the rest of the beer and hands it back to Dean with a goofy smile, shaking his head to get the messy, sweat-clumped strands of hair off his face. Dean tosses the bottle back behind him, adding it to the growing pile of empties they’ve already finished. Dad would be right pissed at Dean if he knew his eldest was plying his youngest with beer, but John isn’t here, and Dean figures it still rates pretty low on the list of things he’s done to Sam that Dad might skin him for. The thought makes Dean smirk devilishly to himself as Sam drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder again, bumping him a little playfully even as he settles, and Sam’s hand finds Dean’s thigh again, his fingers going right back to pressing and gently kneading the flesh like Sam can’t sit still even though they’ve nowhere to be and all the time in the world, as though every moment they’ve got without their dad watching he has to spend touching his big brother. It makes Dean shiver despite the heat, and he sighs again, letting his own fingers play along the baby-smooth skin at the edge of his Sam’s shorts under his t-shirt while contemplating if it’s worth displacing them both to run inside to grab another beer out of the fridge.
“I wish we’d known,” Sam says quietly out of the blue, as if they were mid conversation and Dean should have enough information to properly respond, even though it’s been a good while since Sam last said anything.
Dean gives Sam a moment to elaborate before finally questioning him when he’s only met with more silence. “Wish we’d known what, kiddo?”
“Oh,” Sam leans back to tilt his head up and blink at Dean owlishly. “I wish we’d known we’d be so close to a lake. Could’ve got swim trunks somewhere before Dad ditched us.”
Dean’s grin grows across his face from ear to ear and he lets loose a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh before he can stop himself. Sam startles at the sound a little and Dean starts moving, gets himself standing.
“Sammy, c’mon. We don’t need shorts to go swimming.” He strips his t-shirt up over his head and drops it to the dock while toeing out of his boots. Sam just stares at him, mouth open like he was going to say something but he’s gotten distracted by the view. It’s after dark but the sky is crystal clear, the nearly full moon incredibly bright. Dean goes for his belt next and doesn’t hesitate to push his jeans and his underwear down to add to the rest of his clothes. His half-hard dick hangs heavy between his legs and Dean looks up to catch Sam’s eyes widen at the sight.
“D-Dean!” His brother sputters out, and frantically looks around as if they aren’t the only two humans stranded anywhere near this backwoods lake. “What are you doing?!”
Dean can’t help but laugh. He loves this about Sam. His brother can be the filthiest, most desperate little slut, working Dean up in front of their dad just so Dean will take it out of his ass later, but caught in the right moment he still gets shy and flustered like Dean hasn’t destroyed every last piece of his innocence.
“Aw, Sammy, don’t be a prude,” he teases as he stands at the edge of the dock, his bare ass on display for the whole lake and his dick dangerously close to Sam’s face where he’s still sitting there gaping at him. “Ain’t nobody here gonna see us, kiddo.”
He gives a teasing wiggle of his hips, wagging his erection around just to be ridiculous, and even in the low-light he doesn’t miss the way Sam’s cheeks have gotten dark and he swallows thickly as he shifts in place. Dean gives him a wink and then dives right in.
The water is warm but feels clean and refreshing on his overheated skin. He comes up quick though, just to check on Sam. He’s surfaces and shakes the water out of his eyes, finds Sam still sitting there looking much too wary for a kid who’s been knocking back beer with his big brother.
“Sammy, the water’s great. Don’t make me drag you in here,” he threatens, hitting the water to send up a warning splash in Sam’s direction. Sam tries to look mad but Dean can see the cracks, can tell he’s right there, about to give in. Dean makes an exaggerated move toward the dock.
“Okay! God, okay, Dean, okay.” Sam shimmies back quickly to avoid whatever he thought was coming, and Dean eases back, smiling and triumphant, watching as Sam stands up too quickly and nearly topples over, surprised to find how drunk he is.
“Careful there, Sasquatch,” Dean chuckles, and Sam shoots him a half-assed glare from under his hair – completely undermined by his booze-fuelled giggle – while he wrestles his sneakers off and starts to strip.
Dean bites his lip as more and more of Sam’s skin is bared to the moonlight, the long, lean length of his body and the long, blood-heavy length of his cock when Sam finally drops his pants. He’s seen Sam naked more times than he can count, been touching every inch of his brother’s body for as long as he remembers, but the sight of him still makes his mouth water. Sam’s not small or bare anymore, hasn’t been for a long while, and a tiny, sick part of Dean still aches for the little boy he used to be. But then Sam is standing at the edge of the dock, toes curling on the end of the wood, looking down at Dean shyly and waiting because he knows Dean is watching, and Dean still sees that little boy in those bright, adoring eyes. He gives a little flick of his head to give Sam the go ahead, and Sam’s smile nearly splits his face in two as he takes a big breath and then cannonballs right next to Dean, dousing him completely.
Dean gives his head another shake and waits for Sam to come up for air, lets him take a breath before he goes after him. Sam’s laughter rings out across the water as Dean tries to dunk him, and the sound could lift Dean’s heart clear out of his chest. The kid’s sixteen and it kills Dean that he doesn’t laugh more, doesn’t seem to know how to have any fun – at least not while John’s around. Sam weasels out of Dean’s grip and takes off. Dean gives chase, trying to stay out of the wild spray Sam kicks back to deter him.
It’s not long at all before he manages to corral Sam back towards the dock, backing him up against the leg of it with nowhere to go, but as he closes in and Sam smiles at him, breathless, he knows Sam was leading them here, too. Dean reaches past Sam to grab the edge of the dock and moves right into his brother’s space, pressing the toes of his right foot against the slimey wood under the water as a brace when he slots his thigh between Sam’s legs. Sam’s smile falters and his jaw slackens noticeably as Dean gives him some friction, the growing length of him hot compared to the cool water. Sam sucks in a shaky breath and slips his arms around Dean’s neck. He weighs nothing like this, bobbing in the water, and there’s that pang again – that stabbing, sharp white hot yearning that twists up Dean’s stomach in the best way when thinks of his little bird-bodied brother, the one he used to scoop up out of the Impala’s back seat like it was nothing. His cock throbs and his blood rushes south and he gets his other hand around Sam’s waist again, slides it down his back and lets his fingers skim the top of his brother’s ass before tugging him closer. Sam’s legs wrap around him and his hips buck against him impulsively and Sam makes a quiet, broken sound close to Dean’s ear that Dean can’t help but echo. He’s supposed to be the one in charge here but fuck if his little brother doesn’t dismantle him in seconds.
“C’mon, Sammy, that’s it. Yeah, baby,” Dean encourages, grazing his teeth along the shell of Sam’s ear as his hand spans Sam’s hip and coaches him into a rhythm, trapping his dick between them and rubbing it against his own.
“Dean,” Sam whines against his neck, mindlessly mouthing at the wet skin there. Dean groans because he knows that sound, the desperate, anguished tone to his baby brother’s voice that says he’s close already, like Dean didn’t just suck him off while they were lying in the grass watching the sun go down. Dean swears he can still taste Sam in his mouth underneath all the beer, but maybe that’s wishful thinking.
“I got you, baby boy. Give it up for your big brother now,” Dean purrs. Sam’s starts to cry out before Dean even gets the last word out, shuddering and digging his bitten nails into Dean’s neck as he comes, a momentarily warm gush against the skin of Dean’s hip before the water takes it all away.
Sam goes lax, his arms and legs loose where they wrap around Dean still, and the only sounds are of the water breaking against the dock and their heavy breathing. Dean is still achingly hard, but he lets go of where he was gripping Sam’s ass – hard enough to bruise – and gently smoothes his palm up and down his back as Sam comes down. Sam finally lifts his head from where he had buried his face in Dean’s neck and he gives his brother a goofy, dazed kind of smile before leaning in to kiss him.
Dean moans into his mouth, bringing his hand up to thread his fingers in Sam’s knotted, wet hair, angling them so he can get deeper. Sam tastes like beer, lakewater and home, and Dean’s blood is very nearly on fire coursing through his body, lighting up every nerve along the way when Sam starts to suck on his tongue. Dean is happily getting lost in the sensation so he doesn’t even realize Sam has snaked one of his hands down between them to wrap his fingers around Dean’s dick. The first squeeze wrings another moan out of him, and Sam smiles against his mouth at the sound, letting go of Dean’s tongue and devoting his focus to the way he jacks Dean instead.
“S-Sammy, fuck,” Dean stutters out through gritted teeth, trying to keep it together and failing because nothing wrecks him like his little brother does. Sam’s hands are so big now, they can hold so much more of him. He can still remember when Sam’s hands were so little, the tentative, awe-filled way they moved as they played with him, not quite sure what to do even though it didn’t matter because it was Sam. Sam knows how to move now, too, exactly how to touch him to break him into pieces, and Dean wants to cry both for how good it feels and how scared he is of them growing up, of Sam growing up– maybe growing away from him. Dean is as in love with him now as he ever was, ruined for anyone but his baby brother, and he has to bite his lip hard to force a halt to the terrifying spiral of his thoughts, focusing instead on the pressure and pull of Sam’s hand.
“‘M still your little brother, Dean,” Sam whispers, gently kissing the side of Dean’s mouth and breaking into Dean’s thoughts like he knows exactly what he was thinking, like maybe Dean was running his mouth without realizing it, giving himself away like the lovesick idiot he is. Sam kisses him again, barely there touches to his cheek, and nuzzles in against his face. When he speaks again, he sounds small and maybe scared just like Dean is, adamantly reassuring them both. “I’ll always be your little brother.”
“Sam,” Dean wails as his orgasm rips through him. His clings to Sam as he pulses in his brother’s hand, spilling warm into the water. He swears he’s melting, his skin dissolving and his body becoming one with the lake, with Sam. God, he wishes he could. He gasps when he can finally catch his breath, and he breathes deeply to steady the furious pounding of his heart. Sam is still holding him, not moving his hand now, just cradling Dean while he goes soft against his palm, and he’s still nuzzling at Dean’s face. There isn’t much wind and the water doesn’t move much but they’re both relaxed now. Dean’s leg drops away from the post, and he keeps them in place with a loosened grip on the edge of the dock so they sway a little where they’re bobbing in the water. Dean finally has enough control to reach up and cup Sam’s face, to meet his brother’s eyes. Sam may be growing like a goddamn weed but those eyes and that small, dimpled smile are the same that belonged to that little boy who, no matter how big he gets or what the future brings, will always be his baby brother. In this moment, Dean’s heart is full and easy. For at least this moment, he can believe they’ll be okay.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Dean sighs easily as Sam’s weight settles heavy and warm along his side. It’s already hot as sin out despite the fact the sun has been down just about an hour. The air is thick and makes them both sticky, but Dean doesn’t mind. He takes a swig of his beer and then passes it to his kid brother, pressing it to Sam’s hand where it lazily traces lines on Dean’s denim-clad thigh, light and teasing enough that Dean’s dick has been at half-mast the better part of this whole bottle they’re sharing, even if Sam is just doing it absentmindedly. His brother’s long fingers curl around the bottle, brushing Dean’s before he relinquishes it fully, and the condensation runs down the glass and over Sam’s knuckles, catching little pockets of moonlight.
Sam lets out an honest to God giggle as he brings it to his mouth, and Dean can only grin wickedly at how much of a lightweight Sam is. Sure, he’s only sixteen, but he’s also unfairly giant, taller than Dean now after his latest growth spurt. He has a long way yet to go to fill out though, and Dean squeezes his fingers around Sam’s still tiny waist with his other hand, cherishing that Sam is still his little brother in some ways, at least.
Sam finishes the rest of the beer and hands it back to Dean with a goofy smile, shaking his head to get the messy, sweat-clumped strands of hair off his face. Dean tosses the bottle back behind him, adding it to the growing pile of empties they’ve already finished. Dad would be right pissed at Dean if he knew his eldest was plying his youngest with beer, but John isn’t here, and Dean figures it still rates pretty low on the list of things he’s done to Sam that Dad might skin him for. The thought makes Dean smirk devilishly to himself as Sam drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder again, bumping him a little playfully even as he settles, and Sam’s hand finds Dean’s thigh again, his fingers going right back to pressing and gently kneading the flesh like Sam can’t sit still even though they’ve nowhere to be and all the time in the world, as though every moment they’ve got without their dad watching he has to spend touching his big brother. It makes Dean shiver despite the heat, and he sighs again, letting his own fingers play along the baby-smooth skin at the edge of his Sam’s shorts under his t-shirt while contemplating if it’s worth displacing them both to run inside to grab another beer out of the fridge.
“I wish we’d known,” Sam says quietly out of the blue, as if they were mid conversation and Dean should have enough information to properly respond, even though it’s been a good while since Sam last said anything.
Dean gives Sam a moment to elaborate before finally questioning him when he’s only met with more silence. “Wish we’d known what, kiddo?”
“Oh,” Sam leans back to tilt his head up and blink at Dean owlishly. “I wish we’d known we’d be so close to a lake. Could’ve got swim trunks somewhere before Dad ditched us.”
Dean’s grin grows across his face from ear to ear and he lets loose a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh before he can stop himself. Sam startles at the sound a little and Dean starts moving, gets himself standing.
“Sammy, c’mon. We don’t need shorts to go swimming.” He strips his t-shirt up over his head and drops it to the dock while toeing out of his boots. Sam just stares at him, mouth open like he was going to say something but he’s gotten distracted by the view. It’s after dark but the sky is crystal clear, the nearly full moon incredibly bright. Dean goes for his belt next and doesn’t hesitate to push his jeans and his underwear down to add to the rest of his clothes. His half-hard dick hangs heavy between his legs and Dean looks up to catch Sam’s eyes widen at the sight.
“D-Dean!” His brother sputters out, and frantically looks around as if they aren’t the only two humans stranded anywhere near this backwoods lake. “What are you doing?!”
Dean can’t help but laugh. He loves this about Sam. His brother can be the filthiest, most desperate little slut, working Dean up in front of their dad just so Dean will take it out of his ass later, but caught in the right moment he still gets shy and flustered like Dean hasn’t destroyed every last piece of his innocence.
“Aw, Sammy, don’t be a prude,” he teases as he stands at the edge of the dock, his bare ass on display for the whole lake and his dick dangerously close to Sam’s face where he’s still sitting there gaping at him. “Ain’t nobody here gonna see us, kiddo.”
He gives a teasing wiggle of his hips, wagging his erection around just to be ridiculous, and even in the low-light he doesn’t miss the way Sam’s cheeks have gotten dark and he swallows thickly as he shifts in place. Dean gives him a wink and then dives right in.
The water is warm but feels clean and refreshing on his overheated skin. He comes up quick though, just to check on Sam. He’s surfaces and shakes the water out of his eyes, finds Sam still sitting there looking much too wary for a kid who’s been knocking back beer with his big brother.
“Sammy, the water’s great. Don’t make me drag you in here,” he threatens, hitting the water to send up a warning splash in Sam’s direction. Sam tries to look mad but Dean can see the cracks, can tell he’s right there, about to give in. Dean makes an exaggerated move toward the dock.
“Okay! God, okay, Dean, okay.” Sam shimmies back quickly to avoid whatever he thought was coming, and Dean eases back, smiling and triumphant, watching as Sam stands up too quickly and nearly topples over, surprised to find how drunk he is.
“Careful there, Sasquatch,” Dean chuckles, and Sam shoots him a half-assed glare from under his hair – completely undermined by his booze-fuelled giggle – while he wrestles his sneakers off and starts to strip.
Dean bites his lip as more and more of Sam’s skin is bared to the moonlight, the long, lean length of his body and the long, blood-heavy length of his cock when Sam finally drops his pants. He’s seen Sam naked more times than he can count, been touching every inch of his brother’s body for as long as he remembers, but the sight of him still makes his mouth water. Sam’s not small or bare anymore, hasn’t been for a long while, and a tiny, sick part of Dean still aches for the little boy he used to be. But then Sam is standing at the edge of the dock, toes curling on the end of the wood, looking down at Dean shyly and waiting because he knows Dean is watching, and Dean still sees that little boy in those bright, adoring eyes. He gives a little flick of his head to give Sam the go ahead, and Sam’s smile nearly splits his face in two as he takes a big breath and then cannonballs right next to Dean, dousing him completely.
Dean gives his head another shake and waits for Sam to come up for air, lets him take a breath before he goes after him. Sam’s laughter rings out across the water as Dean tries to dunk him, and the sound could lift Dean’s heart clear out of his chest. The kid’s sixteen and it kills Dean that he doesn’t laugh more, doesn’t seem to know how to have any fun – at least not while John’s around. Sam weasels out of Dean’s grip and takes off. Dean gives chase, trying to stay out of the wild spray Sam kicks back to deter him.
It’s not long at all before he manages to corral Sam back towards the dock, backing him up against the leg of it with nowhere to go, but as he closes in and Sam smiles at him, breathless, he knows Sam was leading them here, too. Dean reaches past Sam to grab the edge of the dock and moves right into his brother’s space, pressing the toes of his right foot against the slimey wood under the water as a brace when he slots his thigh between Sam’s legs. Sam’s smile falters and his jaw slackens noticeably as Dean gives him some friction, the growing length of him hot compared to the cool water. Sam sucks in a shaky breath and slips his arms around Dean’s neck. He weighs nothing like this, bobbing in the water, and there’s that pang again – that stabbing, sharp white hot yearning that twists up Dean’s stomach in the best way when thinks of his little bird-bodied brother, the one he used to scoop up out of the Impala’s back seat like it was nothing. His cock throbs and his blood rushes south and he gets his other hand around Sam’s waist again, slides it down his back and lets his fingers skim the top of his brother’s ass before tugging him closer. Sam’s legs wrap around him and his hips buck against him impulsively and Sam makes a quiet, broken sound close to Dean’s ear that Dean can’t help but echo. He’s supposed to be the one in charge here but fuck if his little brother doesn’t dismantle him in seconds.
“C’mon, Sammy, that’s it. Yeah, baby,” Dean encourages, grazing his teeth along the shell of Sam’s ear as his hand spans Sam’s hip and coaches him into a rhythm, trapping his dick between them and rubbing it against his own.
“Dean,” Sam whines against his neck, mindlessly mouthing at the wet skin there. Dean groans because he knows that sound, the desperate, anguished tone to his baby brother’s voice that says he’s close already, like Dean didn’t just suck him off while they were lying in the grass watching the sun go down. Dean swears he can still taste Sam in his mouth underneath all the beer, but maybe that’s wishful thinking.
“I got you, baby boy. Give it up for your big brother now,” Dean purrs. Sam’s starts to cry out before Dean even gets the last word out, shuddering and digging his bitten nails into Dean’s neck as he comes, a momentarily warm gush against the skin of Dean’s hip before the water takes it all away.
Sam goes lax, his arms and legs loose where they wrap around Dean still, and the only sounds are of the water breaking against the dock and their heavy breathing. Dean is still achingly hard, but he lets go of where he was gripping Sam’s ass – hard enough to bruise – and gently smoothes his palm up and down his back as Sam comes down. Sam finally lifts his head from where he had buried his face in Dean’s neck and he gives his brother a goofy, dazed kind of smile before leaning in to kiss him.
Dean moans into his mouth, bringing his hand up to thread his fingers in Sam’s knotted, wet hair, angling them so he can get deeper. Sam tastes like beer, lakewater and home, and Dean’s blood is very nearly on fire coursing through his body, lighting up every nerve along the way when Sam starts to suck on his tongue. Dean is happily getting lost in the sensation so he doesn’t even realize Sam has snaked one of his hands down between them to wrap his fingers around Dean’s dick. The first squeeze wrings another moan out of him, and Sam smiles against his mouth at the sound, letting go of Dean’s tongue and devoting his focus to the way he jacks Dean instead.
“S-Sammy, fuck,” Dean stutters out through gritted teeth, trying to keep it together and failing because nothing wrecks him like his little brother does. Sam’s hands are so big now, they can hold so much more of him. He can still remember when Sam’s hands were so little, the tentative, awe-filled way they moved as they played with him, not quite sure what to do even though it didn’t matter because it was Sam. Sam knows how to move now, too, exactly how to touch him to break him into pieces, and Dean wants to cry both for how good it feels and how scared he is of them growing up, of Sam growing up– maybe growing away from him. Dean is as in love with him now as he ever was, ruined for anyone but his baby brother, and he has to bite his lip hard to force a halt to the terrifying spiral of his thoughts, focusing instead on the pressure and pull of Sam’s hand.
“‘M still your little brother, Dean,” Sam whispers, gently kissing the side of Dean’s mouth and breaking into Dean’s thoughts like he knows exactly what he was thinking, like maybe Dean was running his mouth without realizing it, giving himself away like the lovesick idiot he is. Sam kisses him again, barely there touches to his cheek, and nuzzles in against his face. When he speaks again, he sounds small and maybe scared just like Dean is, adamantly reassuring them both. “I’ll always be your little brother.”
“Sam,” Dean wails as his orgasm rips through him. His clings to Sam as he pulses in his brother’s hand, spilling warm into the water. He swears he’s melting, his skin dissolving and his body becoming one with the lake, with Sam. God, he wishes he could. He gasps when he can finally catch his breath, and he breathes deeply to steady the furious pounding of his heart. Sam is still holding him, not moving his hand now, just cradling Dean while he goes soft against his palm, and he’s still nuzzling at Dean’s face. There isn’t much wind and the water doesn’t move much but they’re both relaxed now. Dean’s leg drops away from the post, and he keeps them in place with a loosened grip on the edge of the dock so they sway a little where they’re bobbing in the water. Dean finally has enough control to reach up and cup Sam’s face, to meet his brother’s eyes. Sam may be growing like a goddamn weed but those eyes and that small, dimpled smile are the same that belonged to that little boy who, no matter how big he gets or what the future brings, will always be his baby brother. In this moment, Dean’s heart is full and easy. For at least this moment, he can believe they’ll be okay.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}