Characters: Sam/Dean (Wincest)
Summary: Sam is only human, and Dean's mouth is inhumanly compelling…
Author's Notes: Porn for pheebs1's birthday! What could be better. :) Also for my spn_25 challenge. This is very obviously "Lips."
"What's that you're putting on?"
Sam's found a tape for the car stereo. "Linda Ronstadt," he says, waiting for Dean's frown. It's instantaneous.
Led Zeppelin II fills the air a moment later, but it was worth it. Dean's mouth gets full and pouty when he's surly, and Dean has no idea.
Sam definitely does…
At Starbucks, Sam offers Dean a sip of his mocchiato. "It's chocolatey," he urges.
Dean takes a bigger drink than expected, so he must have liked it. That's okay-- Sam likes watching him lick the whipped cream off his lips. Everybody wins.
"How 'bout a beer?" Sam says at lunch. It's served in bottles at the diner where they're eating.
Sam's lucky not to get arrested, the way he stares when Dean is drinking. The beer's gone too soon, and Sam struggles to stay casual for all of ten minutes. Then he orders Dean another.
"The air's kind of dry here." They're back in the car again.
Sam knows about the power of suggestion—hell, he's counting on it.
He runs a tube of chapstick over his mouth and hands it over. Dean swirls it on without thinking, working slowly while he focuses on the road.
"Are we stopping for dinner?" Dean asks once it gets dark.
"Might as well."
Dean orders a hamburger, but pulls off the onions when he sees Sam giving him That Look. He takes the straw Sam slides on over, and absentmindedly sets to work on his Coke.
Sam's food is cold by the time he remembers to eat it.
Dean should suspect something, he really, really should, when Sam pulls into a mini-mart and buys him a Blow Pop.
The name alone ought to make something click, but Dean's just over there in the passenger seat twirling his tongue over the candy and nibbling and slurping at it while he watches the road.
Sam is rock hard and fucking distracted, is what he is. His eyes keep stealing over to see what Dean's doing, and there's too much traffic and why the hell haven't they found a motel yet already?
"How about—" Dean points off to the left.
"Fuck, yeah," Sam says, swerving the car over without even hitting the turn signal.
"Sam! Geez!" Dean gapes at him with startled eyes and that red, red mouth.
"Room," Sam grunts out, parking the car hard and fast.
"Sure-- you want to get it?"
Sam glares at Dean, because he is not going up to anyone's front desk in this condition. "No." He tries not to squirm quite so obviously. "Hurry," he adds.
Dean just grins at him. "Okay."
Nine-and-a-half fucking eternities later, Dean is back, spinning the room key in circles around his finger and still working on that lollipop. Sam bursts out of the seat at soon as Dean unlocks the door, tripping over himself as his pants nearly slice him in two.
Dean doesn't seem to notice, so there's still time to play it cool. Until the door shuts with the two of them inside the room, and Sam rips the Blow Pop out of Dean's mouth and throws it off to the side.
Dean's all sticky cherry heaven as Sam shoves him up against the door, sucking that lower lip into his mouth and licking-biting-licking the taste right off of him. He rolls his hips into Dean, feeling Dean gasp up underneath him, and with a growl Sam presses his advantage home. One hand tightens up around Dean's shoulders and the other slides down the back of Dean's pants, while Sam parallels the motion by twisting his tongue deep inside Dean's mouth.
"Nnnghhhh," Dean moans, the sound traveling straight to Sam's cock.
Sam pushes harder against Dean, hands holding Dean where he can grind into him while he loses himself in his brother's mouth.
It's only a moment, a whisper-slick moment, before Sam hooks his hand in the back of Dean's jeans and shoves, urging his brother to his knees.
Dean sinks down, hands already stroking down Sam's sides along the way before undoing Sam's belt and opening his pants.
A quick pull-reverse, and then Sam is against the wall. Dean yanks Sam's pants down and takes him in all at once, eyes closed as his tongue rolls slowly under the weight of Sam in his mouth. Sam groans, so-good-so-good as his head thunks back against the door.
Dean's lips are pink around the dark purple-red of Sam's erection, and he pulls off and on until the sight alone is about to make Sam come. Dean's fingers slip around to stroke the sensitive skin near Sam's opening, and that's it—Sam shoots off deep into Dean's throat, clutching the doorknob for support against the weakness in his legs.
"Dean…." he moans, as Dean swallows all around him and the room goes orange-black-black.
Sam opens his eyes to Dean's teasing smile, hovering above him. "Mmh," he manages.
Dean lies down next to Sam, propping himself up on his elbows. "Your studly reputation is taking a hit, Sammy. You left me hanging there all by my lonesome."
"Sorry." Sam reaches over to pull Dean close. "You kind of killed me with the hotness and all."
"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say." Dean strokes Sam's hip, wistful and easy. "Still sounds like an excuse to me." He looks at Sam expectantly.
Sam waggles his eyebrows and brings his leg up over Dean's. "I'm back again now…"
Dean drags him up and urges him onto the bed, breaking out the lube. Moments later, they're in position then, with Dean moving sweet and slow inside him. Sam's got that mouth in his sites all over again, still cherry red and swollen from before.
"Dean…" He pulls Dean close for a down-and-dirty kiss. Sam's tongue swirls and stabs into Dean's mouth, mirroring all the things Dean's doing to him down below. The whole world gets tight and focused as Dean thrusts harder and brushes right over Sam in the process.
Dean yells an incoherent noise, and Sam leans in to nip that lower lip that's just waiting right there. The uneven motion of Dean's body across Sam's erection sets him off so unexpectedly that he nearly chokes as the sensation leaps into orgasm before he can even breathe.
"Ohhhhhh," Dean sighs, his head slumping down into the hollow of Sam's neck.
You can say that again, Sam thinks. He strokes Dean's hair with shaking fingers.
"What was that?" Dean mumbles a minute later.
Sam grins. "It's called 'recovery time.' Can you remember back that far, to when you were young?"
"Ooh, make me."
And so Dean does.
Sam could pretend that it's all teasing and that he's letting Dean have the last word. But kissing Dean is just so damned good.
Because Sam really, really likes that mouth.
If he's lucky, it'll be years before Dean figures out just how much.
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