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spn_springflingTitle: you are the smell before rain
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Written by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
earthquakedream for akintay!
The rain is coming down so hard that Dean can barely see through his windshield. He should keep on driving, but it's the middle of the night and there's no one else on the road, no streetlights - just a vast, black emptiness.
Lightning spikes through the sky, so close that Dean can almost see where it touches down. Thunder booms a second later, loud enough to wake Sam up from his doze in the passenger seat. He smacks his head against the window and groans.
"The hell?"
"Just a little storm, Sam. Relax." Dean pats his thigh, hand moving over denim worn softened by a hundred washes. He lets the touch linger briefly before bringing his hand back to the wheel. "Think we might have to pull over until it calms down."
"Fine," Sam says, rubbing at his eyes. His hair is a wreck from the way he was sleeping, all pressed up against the window.
Dean pulls his eyes away and squints into the sheets of rain, trying to find a place to pull over. He doesn't want some idiot coming along and side-swiping him in this mess.
A couple of miles down the road he finds a strip of dirt that extends out in a small rectangular loop, barely visible until the lightning brightens the sky. He lets out a small sigh of relief as he pulls over and parks, mentally apologizing to his baby for the mud that's going to be caking up her tires all night.
Sam looks close to falling asleep again, head pillowed on one of his sweatshirts, body curled against the door. Dean remembers Sam sleeping the Sam way as a kid, relegated to the backseat on long trips.
It's a sweet thought, but what Dean wants to do now is something he never would have done to his kid brother.
He's suddenly too hot, despite the fact that he's just in a t-shirt and jeans. The air in the car is too close, the rain pounding down so hard that it sounds like hail. Each strike of lightning seems like it's coming closer, the thunder booming bare seconds later. Dean's not scared of thunderstorms but his heart is pounding and he can't breathe.
With a sharp gasp, he fumbles for the door handle and lurches from the car. He's soaked immediately, knows he's letting the rain in but he's too busy trying to breathe to care.
"Dean!" Sam says, still inside the car. "What the fuck are you doing?"
I don't know, Dean thinks, but he can't quite get the words out.
He's been having these feelings for Sam for a long time. At first it was a big deal but Dean's sure he's saved enough lives that a few incestuous thoughts won't harm him.
Except Dean's never been as tempted to actually do something than he is right now. With Sam so close, looking so... so--
"Dean, get back in the car," Sam says. "You're going to get struck by lightning."
Dean takes a deep breath and climbs back in. He's wet, the seat is wet, but the car doesn't feel so overheated anymore.
"Sorry. Needed to breathe."
"Then crack a window, idiot."
"You're the idiot, idiot."
"Well, you're a jerk."
"And you're a bitch." Dean turns on the overhead light and sends Sam an easy grin, relaxing into his (wet, so wet, he's going to ruin the leather) seat.
Sam throws his sweatshirt at Dean. "Use it to dry off the seat. Your bag is in the back, go ahead and change."
Dean resists the urge to protest. He strips down, scoots over towards Sam - thank god for bench seats - and uses the sweatshirt to wipe off his seat and the door.
When he looks back over at Sam, intending to toss the wet clothes at his face, his finds Sam staring at him. Dean looks down at himself, his tattoo standing out stark on his pale skin, the amulet resting on his chest, his--
Oh.
Dean somehow forgot that he isn't wearing underwear. His ass is sticking to the leather uncomfortably and Dean really doesn't understand how he didn't notice that before.
"Really, Dean?" Sam says, but his voice is husky and his eyes are focused low.
Right on Dean's cock. Which isn't exactly uninterested at the moment.
"Sorry?" Dean shrugs. "Ain't nothing you haven't seen before, Sammy. Grab me my bag."
"You're... you're hard."
"It's the storm. Gets me all excited."
"Right." Sam clears his throat and makes a grab for Dean's bag. He can't seem to find it, but that could be because he won't take his eyes off Dean.
And Dean, well, he's not getting any less interested.
"Sam," he says, voice stern. Sam doesn't listen or look away like Dean was hoping he would.
Instead, Sam lunges forward and shoves him against the door hard enough to knock the breath out of him. While he's struggling for air, Sam's legs slide off the seat into the foot well, hands wrapped around Dean's thighs. His mouth is right there, so close that when he breathes out, Dean's dick twitches right against his lips.
"Sam," he says again, but this time it's less stern and more of a gasp. His fingers slide through Sam's hair until he gets a tight grip at the back of his head, tugging him forward gently.
"Is this okay?" Sam looks desperate, hungry for it. Dean is so on board here.
"If you stop, I will leave you here and you can get struck by lightning."
Sam's grin is wicked. It makes Dean's heart beat like a war drum in his chest. "So... say I decided to suck your dick right now? How would you feel about that?"
"Please," Dean says before he can help it. Sam looks so incredibly smug that Dean has to pull on his hair until Sam pinches him in retaliation.
"If you weren't already begging for this--"
"You'd still do it. C'mon, suck me. Do it, Sammy."
Sam opens his mouth, breath fanning out over the tip of Dean's dick. His hand comes up and wraps around the shaft, tongue sneaking out and tracing the ridge of the head. He licks over Dean's slit, eyes dropping low.
Thunder booms outside but neither of them are paying attention. Dean's too busy sinking into the feel of Sam's sweet mouth closing around his cock, the pounding rain drowning out everything else.
Dean's not sure how long it takes for him to come. He loses himself to the pleasure Sam's giving him, grabbing at Sam's hair as he spurts down Sam's throat with a low groan.
Next thing he knows Sam has somehow managed to fit himself on Dean's lap, face shoved into Dean's neck as he jerks himself off. His knuckles knock into Dean's stomach with each stroke. Dean lets him keep at it instead of taking over himself and drags Sam's face up and kisses him.
That's all it takes for Sam to lose it. He jerks and whines into Dean's mouth, their tongues slicking together as Sam shoot against Dean's abdomen.
They break apart a few minutes later, Sam still shaking apart on top of Dean, squeezing the last few drops of come out of his spent cock. Dean palms his ass and grins.
"Guess being stuck in the rain isn't so bad after all, huh?"
Sam laughs and collapses into him. Dean can't help but kiss that gorgeous smile of his.
"Nah, Dean. Not bad at all."
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Written by
earthquakedream for akintay!The rain is coming down so hard that Dean can barely see through his windshield. He should keep on driving, but it's the middle of the night and there's no one else on the road, no streetlights - just a vast, black emptiness.
Lightning spikes through the sky, so close that Dean can almost see where it touches down. Thunder booms a second later, loud enough to wake Sam up from his doze in the passenger seat. He smacks his head against the window and groans.
"The hell?"
"Just a little storm, Sam. Relax." Dean pats his thigh, hand moving over denim worn softened by a hundred washes. He lets the touch linger briefly before bringing his hand back to the wheel. "Think we might have to pull over until it calms down."
"Fine," Sam says, rubbing at his eyes. His hair is a wreck from the way he was sleeping, all pressed up against the window.
Dean pulls his eyes away and squints into the sheets of rain, trying to find a place to pull over. He doesn't want some idiot coming along and side-swiping him in this mess.
A couple of miles down the road he finds a strip of dirt that extends out in a small rectangular loop, barely visible until the lightning brightens the sky. He lets out a small sigh of relief as he pulls over and parks, mentally apologizing to his baby for the mud that's going to be caking up her tires all night.
Sam looks close to falling asleep again, head pillowed on one of his sweatshirts, body curled against the door. Dean remembers Sam sleeping the Sam way as a kid, relegated to the backseat on long trips.
It's a sweet thought, but what Dean wants to do now is something he never would have done to his kid brother.
He's suddenly too hot, despite the fact that he's just in a t-shirt and jeans. The air in the car is too close, the rain pounding down so hard that it sounds like hail. Each strike of lightning seems like it's coming closer, the thunder booming bare seconds later. Dean's not scared of thunderstorms but his heart is pounding and he can't breathe.
With a sharp gasp, he fumbles for the door handle and lurches from the car. He's soaked immediately, knows he's letting the rain in but he's too busy trying to breathe to care.
"Dean!" Sam says, still inside the car. "What the fuck are you doing?"
I don't know, Dean thinks, but he can't quite get the words out.
He's been having these feelings for Sam for a long time. At first it was a big deal but Dean's sure he's saved enough lives that a few incestuous thoughts won't harm him.
Except Dean's never been as tempted to actually do something than he is right now. With Sam so close, looking so... so--
"Dean, get back in the car," Sam says. "You're going to get struck by lightning."
Dean takes a deep breath and climbs back in. He's wet, the seat is wet, but the car doesn't feel so overheated anymore.
"Sorry. Needed to breathe."
"Then crack a window, idiot."
"You're the idiot, idiot."
"Well, you're a jerk."
"And you're a bitch." Dean turns on the overhead light and sends Sam an easy grin, relaxing into his (wet, so wet, he's going to ruin the leather) seat.
Sam throws his sweatshirt at Dean. "Use it to dry off the seat. Your bag is in the back, go ahead and change."
Dean resists the urge to protest. He strips down, scoots over towards Sam - thank god for bench seats - and uses the sweatshirt to wipe off his seat and the door.
When he looks back over at Sam, intending to toss the wet clothes at his face, his finds Sam staring at him. Dean looks down at himself, his tattoo standing out stark on his pale skin, the amulet resting on his chest, his--
Oh.
Dean somehow forgot that he isn't wearing underwear. His ass is sticking to the leather uncomfortably and Dean really doesn't understand how he didn't notice that before.
"Really, Dean?" Sam says, but his voice is husky and his eyes are focused low.
Right on Dean's cock. Which isn't exactly uninterested at the moment.
"Sorry?" Dean shrugs. "Ain't nothing you haven't seen before, Sammy. Grab me my bag."
"You're... you're hard."
"It's the storm. Gets me all excited."
"Right." Sam clears his throat and makes a grab for Dean's bag. He can't seem to find it, but that could be because he won't take his eyes off Dean.
And Dean, well, he's not getting any less interested.
"Sam," he says, voice stern. Sam doesn't listen or look away like Dean was hoping he would.
Instead, Sam lunges forward and shoves him against the door hard enough to knock the breath out of him. While he's struggling for air, Sam's legs slide off the seat into the foot well, hands wrapped around Dean's thighs. His mouth is right there, so close that when he breathes out, Dean's dick twitches right against his lips.
"Sam," he says again, but this time it's less stern and more of a gasp. His fingers slide through Sam's hair until he gets a tight grip at the back of his head, tugging him forward gently.
"Is this okay?" Sam looks desperate, hungry for it. Dean is so on board here.
"If you stop, I will leave you here and you can get struck by lightning."
Sam's grin is wicked. It makes Dean's heart beat like a war drum in his chest. "So... say I decided to suck your dick right now? How would you feel about that?"
"Please," Dean says before he can help it. Sam looks so incredibly smug that Dean has to pull on his hair until Sam pinches him in retaliation.
"If you weren't already begging for this--"
"You'd still do it. C'mon, suck me. Do it, Sammy."
Sam opens his mouth, breath fanning out over the tip of Dean's dick. His hand comes up and wraps around the shaft, tongue sneaking out and tracing the ridge of the head. He licks over Dean's slit, eyes dropping low.
Thunder booms outside but neither of them are paying attention. Dean's too busy sinking into the feel of Sam's sweet mouth closing around his cock, the pounding rain drowning out everything else.
Dean's not sure how long it takes for him to come. He loses himself to the pleasure Sam's giving him, grabbing at Sam's hair as he spurts down Sam's throat with a low groan.
Next thing he knows Sam has somehow managed to fit himself on Dean's lap, face shoved into Dean's neck as he jerks himself off. His knuckles knock into Dean's stomach with each stroke. Dean lets him keep at it instead of taking over himself and drags Sam's face up and kisses him.
That's all it takes for Sam to lose it. He jerks and whines into Dean's mouth, their tongues slicking together as Sam shoot against Dean's abdomen.
They break apart a few minutes later, Sam still shaking apart on top of Dean, squeezing the last few drops of come out of his spent cock. Dean palms his ass and grins.
"Guess being stuck in the rain isn't so bad after all, huh?"
Sam laughs and collapses into him. Dean can't help but kiss that gorgeous smile of his.
"Nah, Dean. Not bad at all."
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Date: 2011-06-01 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-02 12:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-02 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 01:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 11:39 pm (UTC)Ahhh, very nice- I can just hear him and it's hot as hell.
Thanks for posting!
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Date: 2011-06-19 05:12 am (UTC)