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“Psst. Hey. Sammy.” Dean put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, giving it a solid shake. The room was nearly pitch-dark, just enough light from the street filtering through the window to see the edges of Sam’s sleeping form.
“Hmgh…Dean?” Sam’s face was all scrunched up and squinty, confused at being woken up.
“Wanna come on an adventure?”
Sam’s squint turned a little more exasperated, and Dean didn’t need to see it well to know it was Sam’s ‘you’re a dork’ face. “Do I look like I’m still twelve to you?”
Dean sighed. “I’m going to the pool.”
He thought he’d lost all chance of companionship when Sam turned over, but the sheets rustled moments later, and Sam was on his feet. “I don’t have trunks.”
“Me neither.” Dean shot him a cheeky grin.
Sam’s lips turned up, and he knew he’d won.
Their bare feet padded across the floor, overly careful to the point they’d become clumsy again, shushing each other although neither was talking. Sam gave Dean a light shove, and Dean pushed him back, their stumbles a little louder than their footsteps.
Sam’s smile-creased eyes caught the faint light and Dean snickered under his breath, chest filling with an energetic, childlike rush. When Sam turned the doorknob, it squeaked into his hand, quiet. But when he pulled the door open, the creeeaaaak was rather like a large animal announcing its presence.
“Shh!” Dean whisper-yelled, half joking. He caught Sam’s eye roll as they stepped out of the room, closing the door with another loud noise behind them. They found themselves outside in the cool summer’s night air, just a few feet from the pool.
The pool area’s ‘tile,’ to describe it generously, was made of cement like a sidewalk, rough and gravelly on their feet. Dean pulled the hem of his shirt up, until it wrapped his arms and head together like a tube, and further so he could fling it off. Sam’s shirt joined Dean’s on the pavement, and he looked up to see Sam’s lithe body dimly lit. He had really been growing into himself, he was taller than Dean now, more toned than baby fat, but his face was the same as always, even though he had to shave.
Next off was pants, and Dean stole a quick glance at Sam’s butt. It was a cute butt. The only sound except for their shuffling around was the distant hum of traffic and the gurgle of the pool filters. Dean sat on the edge of the concrete with his feet in the water, pleasantly warm.
Sam hopped right in, letting the bluish water encase him up to his thighs. He floated on his back to the deep end, which was still more than shallow enough to stand in. A delicate spray of water droplets had settled across his stomach, and Dean got fully in the water so he could appreciate them closer; in Sam’s sternum and the divots of his hips.
He reached for the back of Sam’s head, to pull it off the surface of the water, and more importantly, to not drown Sam when he kissed him. His sharp-tongued Sammy was quiet now, just trying to press his face closer, parting his lips. The feeling around Dean’s body, all strange and floaty, was interrupted by a very solid body going flush against him, skin to skin from his thighs to his clavicle.
If he wasn’t before, Dean was keenly aware of how naked they were now, with Sam’s cock starting to fill out between them, and his own not far behind. Tired-horny Sam was a reliably filthy kisser, he sucked Dean’s tongue and bit his lip and refused to come up for air. Dean was more than happy to meet him where he was at, holding Sam’s hair tightly in one hand and his ass in the other.
Sam’s hands were feverishly mapping his torso, nearly as hunt-weary with callouses and scars as his own, up his sides and between his shoulders, nearly down to his groin and up on his chest. They’d started rocking against each other in the flurry of movement, groaning into each other’s open mouths as pleasure sparked up their bodies.
The last few days had been absolute hell, so temptingly close in the back of Dad’s car but under too much supervision to cross a line. They were only able to catch a spare minute in a gas station bathroom once. It was good, but not good enough; rushed past the point of desperation and into the land of paranoia. They lived like hot wires, running through with too much electricity to bear, so when they finally touched, it was an explosion.
Dean took his hand off Sam’s hair and wrapped it around his cock instead, making him gasp. Sam broke the kiss, finally, to take a deep breath and eagerly fuck Dean’s fist.
“Sammy,” he panted, shamelessly rubbing his hard-on against Sam’s thigh. “I can probably still hold you up in the water.”
They made little waves and splashes as they moved, just enough to feel the levels rise and fall around their chests. “Mmn…” Sam agreed, his body jerking in Dean’s hands. “Then hold me up and fuck me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, he pushed Sam up against the wall of the deep end, taking his fist off his cock to pad at his rim. The slide in was far quicker and easier than anticipated, and Dean knew that slick feeling was from an outside source. “Baby,” he practically purred, curling his fingers how he knew Sam liked it. “When’d you do it?”
Sam whined high and sweet, and he knew exactly what Dean meant. “Before bed.”
“Did you come?” He pushed his fingers deeper, two of them, thrusting them steadily into Sam’s hole.
Sam’s was red at the highest points of his cheeks, the blush clear even in the dark. “Yes…”
Dean stuck his lip out in an honest-to-god pout. “Should’ve let me see.”
A broken chuckle found its way between Sam’s whines, his bona fide Dean bullying smile settling on his lips. “Just see?”
“Nah,” He conceded, slipping his fingers out. No need to ask if Sam was ready. He brought the blunt head of his cock to Sam’s hole. The push in was maybe a little violent, but Dean was impatient, and he wanted to feel that ring of muscle squeeze him from root to tip. He lost himself for a moment, fucking into Sam with a low moan, savouring the wet, soft heat enveloping his cock. “Fuck, Sammy…”
Sam rolled his hips to try and meet Dean on his thrusts, push him deeper. “You said…you’d hold me up…” It took more effort for Sam to speak.
He did say that. Dean took his hands under Sam’s thighs and pulled them up, nearly weightless underwater. Sam’s legs wrapped around his back, and the pool wall was the only thing keeping him in place. They both moaned, fairly quiet in this highly eavesdroppable setting. Dean was chasing his pleasure, slamming Sam’s low back into the wall over and over. Sam loved that, Dean could see it in his face and feel it as the younger’s cock twitched against his stomach. No doubt he’d have a nasty bruise there tomorrow. Freak.
Sam’s chin hooked over his shoulder, arms clinging to his back as Dean kept up a steady rhythm. His own eyes were tearing up in sheer relief, finally able to satiate himself. He couldn’t put a hand between them without dropping Sam, but he wanted to give attention to his neglected cock. The compromise was to angle his body better, just right to nudge it into his stomach every time he pistoned his hips.
Sam mewled and gasped and dug his nails into Dean’s shoulders, until his body shuddered and he came between them. His pupils were blown when he looked at Dean, bitten-red lips parted as he panted. “Don’t… stop.”
“Hm?”
“Keep going. Wanna feel you come.” His voice was a little strained, just like his breaths. The way it fluctuated was so different from his usual air of grumpiness; it was vulnerable.
“Good,” Dean groaned, picking up the pace again. “Didn’t wanna stop.” The heat pooling in his low abs only got more intense, the soft inside of Sam’s ass like velvet on his aching cock. When he looked up, his brother’s face was tense, like he was in pain. Oversensitive, that’s what it was. But when Dean faltered with concern, even for a moment, he got that puppy-eyed look.
“Dean. Come on.” Whiny ass brat. Dean let his forehead fall against Sam’s chest. He grimaced with new resolve, chasing his pleasure, egged on by the overwhelmed noises Sam kept making. It wasn’t long before his own hips stuttered and he moaned out, toes curling in the warmish water.
Now he did pull out, and there Sam was, against the wall with tousled hair and reddened skin. His cock was also nearly full-hard again, which made Dean glow with pride. When he wrapped a hand around Sam’s shaft, it was hot and pulsing. “Need more, baby?”
“Always,” he sighed. Dean felt that. They never got to spend time together, not how they wanted to. But now they could, under the faint light from the motel’s sign. Dean twisted his hand a little with his upstrokes, and Sam rutted into it. He could take his time to watch Sam’s face when he threw his head back. Pleasure looked beautiful on him.
Watching Sam wasn’t enough. Quickly, Dean found himself stepping closer as he jerked Sam off, pressing his nose to his pool water soaked shoulder. For years, he’d held himself at arm’s length, at a cold, uncomfortable, normal distance. He never wanted to be normal. He wanted to taste.
He pressed his lips to Sam’s clavicle, licked a stripe up his neck, pulled at the skin with his teeth. Nothing could ever really be close enough to the way he needed to touch Sam, how entwined he wished they could be, but fuck if this wasn’t scratching the itch. Sam’s cock was heavy in his hand, and he could feel precome when he swiped a thumb over the tip.
The fight between kissing across his shoulders and looking into his eyes was a difficult one. Dean settled for sucking bruises higher up, on the side of Sam’s neck. He tightened his grip a little as he bit Sam’s earlobe lightly, and the grunt it drew out of those pretty lips was worth its weight in gold.
“Close, so close…” Sam whispered, urging Dean to stroke him faster with the shameless drive of his hips. Dean had him flush to his body, all wet skin and taut muscle, and he inhaled deeply in the crook of Sam’s neck.
He employed his other hand to finish Sam off, reaching under his right hand to rub Sam’s balls, drag a fingertip down his perineum. He felt a warm droplet fall on the back of his neck, and then another. Sam whined, and Dean caught a quiet sniffle in the mix. “Aww, Sammy. You’re so sensitive.”
“Shut…up…” Sam complained, but the protest was short-lived. “Ahh, Dean…” He gasped, eyes squeezing shut when he came. It didn’t spill over Dean’s fist like it would in open air, instead the strings of thick come made clear shapes in the water, which floated to the surface.
“Gross,” he teased. “We should get back.”
Sam frowned. “Yeah, guess we should.” He pulled himself halfway out of the pool, elbows and stomach on the rough cement. Swinging his legs and pulling his body to a standing position was a very inelegant affair, and Dean was sure he looked just as stupid when he did it a few moments later.
They covered their crotches with their jeans, using t-shirts as quick and ineffective towels. Dean cracked their room door open slowly, and they tiptoed back in, careful not to wake their father. Everything looked grey in the near-pitch black, and Dean only knew he was sitting on blue sheets from his earlier memories.
Sam was sliding on a pair of sweatpants, quiet as possible, not even ruffling the fabric, but instead of going to his own bed, he leaned over Dean’s to whisper. “Hey.”
“What?”
Sam’s hand cupped his crotch. “Lemme blow you. I’ll be quiet, promise.” Dean glanced over at Dad, sleeping peacefully just a few feet away. Unfortunately, the blood rushing to his cock was louder than what rationality remained in his mind.
“Fuck, sure.” Dean lay on his back, pulling the covers over himself, a soft cocoon. Sam climbed in by his feet, visibly just a lump in the bed climbing up his legs. He felt hands on his thighs and Sam’s breath on his half-hard cock.
It wasn’t a bad way to get ready for bed, hands in Sam’s damp hair, fucking into his eager mouth. He could feel Sam’s lips stretch around his base, feel his balls nudge Sam’s chin. He was a little worn out, and trying to be quiet, so the movements he and Sam made were gentle. He clamped a hand over his own mouth, eyes rolling back, shaking with the effort it took to not give them away.
Sam had him in his mouth all the way to the hilt, seated just too comfortably, sucking and swirling his tongue just like Dean taught him. Dean wasn’t a crybaby like Sam was, but his eyes were threatening to prove that wrong.
It surprised him, just how quickly he’d been brought to the edge, especially after coming once already. His grip on Sam’s hair tightened, enough to make his scalp sting. He was breathing deep in through his nose, out through his mouth, shaky, real noise creeping in at the ends of his breaths.
Dean made a punched-out sort of ohhhh sound as he came, dry, and Sam sucked him until he winced and pulled away. Just too sensitive. The sheets rustled as he lay back, eyes closed, panting hard, and when he opened them, he saw Sam out of his bed. Well, in between the blurry vision and the sparkles, that’s what he thought he saw. 90% sure, give or take.
Sam had settled into his own bed, expertly natural, and they closed their eyes without uttering another word. It was likely they were awake for a few minutes; Dean knew he was. Still cooling off and calming down, enjoying the fuzzy afterglow and settling his fear of being caught.
Eventually, the soft-enough sheets, pillow on his cheek, and sounds of his dad and brother snoring lulled him to sleep.