Category: Sam/Dean (Wincest, PWP)
Spoilers: None (vaguely late Season-1)
Summary: John’s truck is too damn sexy for its own good.
Author’s Notes: For the incredible plutogirl10 on her birthday. Couldn’t get the longer story done in time, and so I offer you porn. Car!Porn. And random kinks, just because. ;)
Also for the kaz2y5 "Secrets" challenge, for reasons that will become obvious.
“Why is Dad driving the Impala?”
They’d been caravanning toward Indiana, but then they’d switched cars after stopping for gas, and John had gone off ahead.
“For old times’ sake,” Dean says, flashing a grin at Sam. “And because I volunteered us to take the truck and go check out that church cemetery over in Louisville before meeting up with Dad.”
“But it’s raining,” Sam says. “And it’ll be muddy.”
Dean quirks an eyebrow. “Totally missing the point, dude. We have Dad’s truck. And Dad’s not in it. And he’s not expecting us until later tonight.”
“Oh, hell yes, Sam. This big monster of a machine, the two of us off on some side road breaking it in? It’s got to happen.”
“What if Dad… you know. What if we’re not the first to, uh…”
Dean reaches a hand over, brushes fingers up along the inside of Sam’s thigh. “Won’t matter, once we’re done with it. Because we’ll know.”
Sam looks over at Dean with sudden interest. “This is starting to sound like a kink, Dean. Is it the truck, or the fact that it’s Dad’s truck that turns you on?”
“Sam, we’re alone. Finally. We’ve been trapped in the same motel room with Dad for three days. I’m afraid I’ll wake up humping you in my sleep with Dad watching us from the other bed!”
“Now that would be kinky. But I still don’t buy it.”
“All right, fine,” Dean mutters. “I totally want to fuck you in Dad’s truck, okay? Satisfied now?”
“Not yet,” Sam laughs wickedly. “Ask me after the fucking actually happens.”
Dean shifts in his seat, his pants suddenly too goddamned tight. On the other side of the truck, Sam pulls off his button-down flannel shirt until he’s wearing just a t-shirt on top. That shirt fits. Really well. And Dean wants to lick up over the nipple he sees poking through the fabric right this minute.
He pulls off the highway onto a dirt road, freewheels over into the grass and across the uneven ground to swing around behind an old gray ghost of a barn.
“Already?” Sam says.
“Says the strip-tease artist who’s making me nuts.” Dean parks the truck, pulls the lever near the floor and shoves the front seat back as far as it will go. “Gotta love bench seats,” he says. “Big ones especially. And leather.”
“Leather must be another one of your kinks.”
Dean leans over and grabs Sam by the arm, pulls him into a deep, dirty kiss. “Sam, you’ve got to know by now,” he says huskily. “My biggest kink is you.”
Sam drags Dean further over to his side of the car, until Dean is half-sprawled against him, and he hooks one arm around Dean’s back and lets the other hand slide a slow path downward until he’s cupping Dean’s ass and lightly fingering up between his legs through the unyielding denim of Dean’s pants.
Dean gasps against Sam’s mouth, that sensation making him want to both squirm and press back into Sam’s hand all at the same time. He hikes up Sam’s shirt, lets his fingers scroll up the hard muscle across Sam’s stomach, lets them tweak Sam’s nipple and slide around the corner to bring Sam closer while stroking the firm-soft texture of his brother’s skin.
Sam moans into him, tongue fluttering against Dean’s in little stabs of insinuation. So hot, so fucking hot, and Dean pulls back a moment to steal a look at Sam, whose lips are already swollen and red and whose chest is heaving sharply. Dean leans down to mouth Sam’s neck, moving up the length of it and then drawing Sam’s earlobe between his lips with a slow, wet swirl of tongue and a gentle, well-placed bite.
“Dean…” Sam growls out in that deep voice that sets Dean off so damn easily.
“Sammy,” Dean murmurs softly, nibbling along Sam’s jaw before finally kissing him the way Sam wants.
Dean wants to shift over onto Sam’s lap, but there’s still no room for it—the car’s not tall enough. Instead, he leans over to the side and pushes Sam back toward the driver’s side door into a half-reclining position. Dean’s hands sweep down Sam’s sides in a long caress before converging on his belt-buckle and working to undo his pants.
“God, Dean,” Sam whispers urgently. He’s already rock-hard and ten steps ahead of everything in his mind. Dean frees Sam’s cock from his pants and underwear, and it springs up into the air, dark red and already curving up toward his stomach as Dean gets Sam’s clothes the rest of the way down.
Before Sam has a chance to say anything more, Dean falls on him with a groan and licks up from the bottom before closing over Sam completely and taking him in impossibly deep.
The way Dean gets into this just makes Sam instantly and achingly harder. Dean half-swallows Sam, moving his head slowly as he works through the sensual nirvana that constitutes sucking Sam off. And watching it, the way Dean’s lips spread around him and Dean’s eyes roll blissfully behind closed lids, this is hotter than any porn movie Sam’s ever seen.
Sam drops one hand behind Dean’s shoulder, stroking his back, and the other behind Dean’s neck where he lets it run up through Dean’s hair and hold his brother’s head down against him. Dean has no intention of stopping what he’s doing, but it’s such a turn-on that Sam can’t help it. He grabs Dean’s hair, pushing him gently while he lifts his hips lightly and slowly with just the suggestion of fucking Dean’s mouth.
Dean groans around him, the sensation drilling right through Sam’s skin and straight to that spot behind his balls. It's— it's— “God, Dean!” Sam yells as he comes down his brother’s throat.
Dean doesn’t let him go— rides him through the release while his thumbs circle up from the insides of Sam’s thighs. And Sam can’t help himself— he spreads his legs to let Dean in closer, let him take whatever the hell he wants.
Sam’s still in the delicious heat of Dean’s mouth when he feels wetness dribbling down the outside of his cock. Dean traps it against his skin with his fingers, and then those fingers are easing their way into Sam slowly. They slide in-up, and Sam’s legs open further at the promise in that touch. Another slide, and Dean brushes that trigger-point inside and “Oh!” It feels so good that Sam wishes he hadn’t come just yet.
Slip-stroke again, and “C’mon, Dean, get in already! Stop being such a fucking tease.”
“I’m not teasing,” Dean says softly. “Just making it good.”
Dean undoes his own pants one-handed, works them down far enough so that one side is completely off along with the corresponding shoe. He shifts down along the seat, positioning himself and entering Sam with sweet perfection.
It’s still cramped in the cab of the truck, and Sam’s almost sitting up to leave room for their legs. Dean’s crowded against Sam, face pressed against the heat of Sam’s neck and one arm bracing himself on the window as he thrusts and moves and tries to last longer than a few short seconds. Sam reaches around behind Dean, placing a firm hand under his thigh and helping to support him against the awkward slope of gravity.
Dean’s breath catches and gasps against Sam’s skin as he gets closer, the friction of his shirt against Sam’s cock winding Sam up all over again. God, it’s good— the soft-scratchy rolling across that sensitive head, and Dean all up inside him and almost hitting that spot where Sam forgets everything but the barest notion of more. Sam lifts his left leg up a little, lets Dean swerve into a better angle. And that’s it—right there—and Sam hooks his leg across the back of Dean’s calves and pushes in encouragement as Dean rocks and rides him in mounting desperation.
“It’s okay, Dean,” Sam murmurs into Dean’s hair. “Don’t hold back now— just let it all go.”
And Dean does, jerking against Sam sharply and filling him with wet heat as he brings an arm around the back of Sam’s neck and holds on for dear life. “Ohhhh,” Dean says in a voice like wonder. He shudders against Sam for a long moment, fingers caught against the firmness of Sam’s chest. Then he presses a kiss against Sam’s neck, and reaches down to grasp Sam’s cock firmly and pull-twist the precum over the head as he pushes up inside Sam with the last of what he’s got.
Sam’s head tilts back, all his thoughts suspended around the delirious thrill of Dean’s touch until— “Yes! There, there, just— Oh! Dean…” Sam comes again with his brother’s name on his lips and the slick-steam heat on his stomach of his own release.
“Sammy,” Dean purrs happily. He fishes around on the floor for Sam’s underwear and uses it to clean off Sam’s stomach and then the two of them a moment later. He tosses it back on the floor and settles in against Sam’s chest, warm and sated and in no hurry to move on to the errand that awaits them.
“Guess this is ours now,” Sam says softly.
“In the only way that matters,” Dean agrees, his voice rumbling inside Sam as he speaks.
“You’re never going to think about this truck the same way again, are you?”
“Hell no,” Dean chuckles. “Every time Dad revs the motor I’m going to get hard for the next week just remembering the two of us going at it here on the front seat.”
Sam tilts his head down to reach Dean’s and kisses him long and hard and slow. He’s missed this as much as Dean. The past few days have felt like the two of them were sliding out of phase with each other, with nothing to mend the disconnection but a few half-cautious kisses when John was in the bathroom or getting them a room.
“We’re going to have to invent reasons to get away together, Dean, because it’s killing me having to lock this up all the time when Dad’s around.”
“I know,” Dean says, brushing his fingers over Sam’s cheek and down his neck.
“Forest recon or something. I mean, I don’t want to have to resort to public restrooms or creepy shit like that.”
“It’ll be okay, Sam. This is the first step, this thing today. We’ve got to work within the framework as long as Dad sticks around.”
“I thought you wanted him to come back.”
“Well, that was kind of before. And I do like having him back. Except now I’m watching every move I make around you, and I’m looking out for road-trips where the two of us can split off and do the work on our own. For efficiency and stuff.”
“Whatever keeps Dad off our backs,” Sam agrees. “So I guess we’d better get moving, then.” He shifts a little and sits up under the weight of Dean pressed against him.
“Guess so,” Dean says lightly. He pulls Sam back in for one last kiss, wanting it to last until the next time, whenever that is. “We’ve got a whole cemetery to search,” says Dean. “That headstone isn’t going to march over here and announce itself.”
“All right,” Sam sighs. He grabs his pants from the floor, but Dean gets to his briefs first, spreading them out on the space behind the front seat to dry. “Am I getting my underwear back?”
“Maybe later. I like you sitting all commando over there and thinking about how you got that way.”
“That’s, like, twisted,” Sam says. “And kind of hot.”
“Creative thinking, Sammy,” Dean smiles.
When he starts the engine up, the truck roars to life beneath them.
And the two of them look at each other and just burst out laughing, while the truck growls machismo and testosterone. This is going to be one hell of a secret to keep.
------ fin ------