spn_springfling | If You Ever Need Reminding by songoftheroad for <user site="liv

Title: If You Ever Need Reminding
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Any warnings: reference to underage sex, unbeta’d fic, pwp, slight schmoop, dirty-talk, top!Dean/bottom!sam

Dean parked the car in the lot of the umpteenth motel they had stayed in in April and walked to their room. When he reached Room 109 someone whimpered, a sweet high-pitched sound. He paused to listen, wondering if he got to the wrong room. The sound was gone. Shrugging, he took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, ready to tease Sam about the noise he’d just heard – that’s not the kind of whacking I meant, Sam - when he stopped short.

The room they got was a big one. Dean remembered thinking it was almost as big as a suite, like the one they got in Erie that one time. Downright sweet for all the space it offered when most of the time it was a real struggle not to collide with Sam hulking form when they both set foot on the floor. Dean took the bed closest to the door as usual, which left Sam all the way across the room on his bed where currently he was writhing, gasping, with three long fingers rapidly fucking in and out of his asshole. He was stroking the slit of his dick with the thumb of his other hand, biting down on his lower lip as he struggled to contain himself.

Belatedly Dean realized he’d left the door open and he closed it softly, trying hard not to make a sound. Sam was still fucking himself on his fingers but his right hand was now making its way up his chest. He took a nipple between his forefinger and thumb and pinched it. Dean had to press a hand against his cock through his jeans for relief at the unholy sound Sam made. He looked about ready to cream himself and he wasn’t even touching his cock.

Dean flashbacked to the first time he’d walked in on Sam going at it himself. Sam had been a scrawny little thing back then, all of fourteen years old, all coltish limbs and too long hair. Sam had forgotten to close the bathroom door all the way through and Dean was frozen in place. As soon as Sam was done, Dean had bolted. He had returned late that night after fucking a hot redhead against a gritty wall to take the edge off. He found Sammy wide awake, doing his fucking homework completely, absolutely unaware of his creepy older brother who was perving on him not half a day ago.

Four years later when Sam went down on his knees to go down on him, Dean found out he wasn’t the only one doing all the perving. Sammy, this isn’t right Dean had muttered with a hand on his hair tugging him forward, contradicting his words. That made Sam suck harder until Dean came down his throat for the first time.
But they hadn’t done this in some time. Not since Stanford and Jessica and Madison and Dad. Not since Dean had dragged his little brother away from the safety of a cheaply rented two-storied house in California in search of pointless revenge and absolution. When one tired day turned into another and he found himself standing too close to his brother sometimes they would end up making out when they could afford to, the tension between them hot and heavy but it would always stop before anything happened, one of them pulling back and offering an excuse they both knew wasn’t good enough. Dean couldn’t want. Dean couldn’t let himself want knowing he couldn’t have it.

Now Sam lied in front of him like a three-course meal and Dean had to have all of it. He wanted to touch Sam, to close the gap between their bodies.

But not yet. He rubbed himself through his jeans, careful not to make a single sound. Sam was so beautiful like this – unselfconscious and loose in a way Dean didn’t remember seeing before.
He was still playing with his nipples and fucking himself on his fingers showing no inclination to touch his cock. The last time they’d done it, they were too restless to take their time with it and Sam started moaning about needing to come within minutes of starting. Dean wondered if Sam could come without a hand on his cock these days.

Sam was blindly grabbing for the lube. When he found it, he opened his eyes to pour some on his fingers to put another finger in and he noticed Dean standing near the door with his free hand on his crotch.

Sam’s mouth fell open and he looked almost scared like Dean would turn around and flee. Like Dean ever could.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean whispered, about ready to burst, “don’t fuckin’ stop now.”

It wasn’t an order but he saw Sam’s body relax with it. Sam lied back down on the bed and he shoved three fingers into his hole all at once, hissing as if in pain, while looking straight into Dean’s eyes. As opposed to the frantic pace he’d set before, Sam began to take his time this time around. He fucked himself on his fingers slowly, looking hell-bent upon driving Dean crazy.

Dean was sure the want was showing on his skin in neon colors he was so turned on. His cock was so hard it hurt where it pushed against his jeans. The plastic bag full of cheap junk food hit the floor with a sound that did nothing to distract them as Dean unzipped his jeans and took his cock out. On the bed Sam bit down on his lip and began playing with his balls, still not touching his cock.

When Sam started to insert another finger in his hole, Dean decided he had had enough. He shoved his jeans and underwear down all the way and made quick work of taking his jacket and shirt off before walking up to the bed and putting a hand to the back of Sam’s head and lifting him up to kiss his brother’s stupidly pink lips. Sam gasped and his hands fell at his sides as Dean shoved two fingers inside his hole as he continued to tongue-fuck his brother’s mouth.

When Dean could hear past the blood roaring in his ears he heard Sam’s pleasepleasepleaseplease and pushed Sam back roughly. He manhandled his brother on his stomach and wrapped an arm around his chest to lift him up and press them together – both of them on their knees with Sam’s back against Dean’s chest. He lined his cock with Sam’s hole and pushed in. Sam thrashed as Dean clutched him tighter against himself and began to pound into him with all the force he could muster.

Dean pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of Sam’s face, his neck leaving bite-marks and bruises. He took Sam’s earlobes between his teeth and pulled, making Sam growl like he was in pain. Sam slapped Dean’s thigh and he took it as his cue to reach around and wrap his palm around Sam’s dick. He had managed to stroke it about thrice when Sam came with an howl.

Dean went on fucking him while Sam hung, limp, upright only ‘cause of Dean’s arm holding him up. Dean fucked into him a dozen more times before he noticed Sam was still half-hard in his hand.
He started jerking his cock again. With the hand that was holding him up, he turned Sam’s face towards himself and kissed him – obscene open-mouthed kisses with more spit than finesse – all the while still fucking him hard and slow. Sam made a pathetic sound at the back of his throat but he didn’t try to bat his hand away.
“Come on, Sammy, you can go again. One more time for me, huh? Been wanting this for so long, know you’ve been too.”

Sam started pushing back on Dean’s cock weakly, wordlessly asking Dean for faster, harder. Dean pressed himself impossibly closer to Sam’s back and increased the pace.

“Such a fucking slut for my cock, little brother. Can keep you like this all day, coming on my cock over and again, just with my cock in your ass and nothin’ else and you’d love it,” Dean muttered. Sam jerked in his arms as he came for the second time that night.

Sam took a hold of the hand that had just been on his cock and sucked two fingers in his mouth, head bobbing up and down like it was Dean’s cock he was sucking. Dean felt like he was going to burst out of his skin as he fucked into Sam at a frenzied speed feeling his pulse ratchet up every second. Sam was making choked sounds now, like he was fucking his own mouth so hard he couldn’t breathe and Dean fucking lost it and shot off inside Sam’s hole.

Dean’s brain got online about six seconds later as he came to the realization that Sam had gone limp in his arms, breathing hard like he did when he got free from getting choked by whatever godless monster that wanted to kill him that week. Dean pressed a few soft kisses to his shoulder and laid him down, following right after.
Sam was lying on his front, face turned towards Dean and looking slightly weary, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was going on in Dean’s head. Foregoing words, Dean put his arm around Sam and tucked him closer like he used to when they were little and had to share a bed with Dad passed out on the other one. Sam’s face displayed a look of relief before settling on amusement as he scooted even closer.

He leaned in and they started trading soft, lazy kisses. “Enjoy the show?” Sam whispered against Dean’s lips after a while, like it was his plan all along.