Dean's a sweet talker.
"Feel good, sweetheart?"
Thick fingers pry into him, rough for all their manicured softness.
"Open up for me."
Dean's careful with him.
Takes hours to fuck him open, fingers tongue and torture before he'll give Sam what he wants.
"That's it, let me in."
There's a slick shell over Dean Smith that Sam wants to tear into with his teeth. Rigid control and smooth edges and it all niggles at him, wrong wrong wrong just like the press of Dean's ring finger slipping in next to his other two is so right.
"You don't have to, fuck,"
Sam loses it, face ground into organic cotton sheets when Dean finds his sweet spot. Dean had found it on the first night like he'd mapped Sam's insides years ago.
"I'm ready, Dean, Jesus."
Shushed and petted, Dean just sinks his fingers in and trigger holds him, not enough stretch pressure push to do anything but make Sam grunt with frustration.
"You're a fucking brat."
Sam huffs, the bare skin edged laugh he can spare from every ounce of him screaming to get fucked. Now.
"Yeah, well, I'm the youngest."
That gets him another rough slide, a pause and a clockwise sink that makes him shiver. Dean's too good with his hands.
"My bratty little..."
Dean swallows the rest of it, whatever it is, whatever makes his chest rumble and his fingers sink hard into Sam's ass.
"You tease everyone like this?"
Sam could stroke his dick but it serves his point better as it drips onto Dean's duvet.
Fingers still in him Dean reaches down to drape himself over Sam's back. Soft hands cup his chin, pressing toward his throat, turning Sam's head back until Dean's breath tickles against his ear. Sam hates having a hand on his neck, had his big first fight with Madison when she'd tried to spice things up with her slim vet school fingers on his throat.
Dean does a lot of things Sam hates except that he doesn't, not when Dean does them.
"Just you, Sammy."
Like that. The first time Dean had wrapped those Kiehl’s Pour Homme lips around his cock and sucked him off in the Sandover executive men's room, Dean's precome-slick mouth had popped off him and muttered Taste so fucking good, Sammy and Sam had blown his load all over Dean's face so fast it made the stall spin.
He never let anyone call him Sammy.
"You gonna keep me in line?"
Sam wraps his hand around his cock now, more of a loose suggestion than any real intent. Neither one of them wants Sam coming before Dean's inside him.
"That's my job, darlin'."
Sam's asshole sucks back noisy when Dean pulls out, leaving him empty empty miserable until he slides those fuck thick fingers back in. Dean's meant for rougher work than bluetooths and blenders.
"Gotta take care of you, baby."
No one calls Sam baby.
"You gonna keep playing big brother or are you gonna fuck me?"
He can hear Dean breathing. He hadn't meant it like that, like they'd ever...
Dean has a sister named Jo and a mom named Ellen and a Dad named Bobby and Sam had broken off his engagement with Madison after they'd registered for the china.
Dean's hands are soft, still, inside him and on him and all wrong. Sam wants to crack him open and suck the work rough back up to the surface.
"You gonna be a good big brother, Dean?"
Sam can't take it back. Sam won't take it back.
"This what you need, little brother?"
Taunt and tease too easy for him Dean smacks the fat promise of his cockhead against Sam's knuckle gaped hole.
"Need me to fuck this greedy little hole good?"
Sam doesn't moan for dick and Sam's not Sammy and Sam wants his brother inside him so bad he could cry.
"Please, Dean, fuck."
"Spoiled you, didn't I?"
A quick thwick of lube, not too much the way Sam never knew he liked, make it hurt, Dean, make it ache when you're away.
"Ruined this fucking ass, huh Sammy?"
Press press press and it's too fast, it should hurt and he should hate it. Sam sluts his hips up and flexes whore hungry for more.
"Open up for your brother's dick like you were built for it."
"Gonna give it up for me, little brother?"
Dean sinks home before Sam can even beg for it.
"Take it good, don't you baby?"
They'd never even mentioned condoms. Dean with his hand sanitizer and his dry clean only colon had stuck his tongue up Sam's workday asshole and fucked him raw before the last vestiges of the Sandover paterfamilias had hit the ground.
"You're my good boy, Sammy, you've always..."
Dean's voice falters but his cock slides in and out faultless, like it can pull the words out of Sam.
"Trained this hole good, Dean."
Sam looms over everyone in his life, too tall tucked down to meet the world. Dean fills him full and shrinks all the "aren't you a tall one Mr. Wesson" into good quiver boy space, tight like his first time.
"Got my boyhole open good, feel so good inside me De."
"Jesus fuck, Sammy."
Dean's got grit in his voice and a bruise grip on Sam's hips.
"Fucking boyhole, fuck, Sam, I..."
Sam grew up in Illinois and Sam's first time was with Suzy Meisner in her older sister's dorm room and Sam learned how to take his brother's dick before he learned how to drive.
"Need it, Dean, don't stop."
"Yeah, fuck, I got you, Sammy."
Dean's got him leaking everywhere, dick snug inside him and tugging back like its gonna take Sam with it. Dean's house is spotless and his car doesn't have a carbon footprint and Dean fucks his baby brother like he's carving out a slice of his soul.
"Gonna be good for me, Sammy, be good and let your big brother fuck this little boyhole open."
Sam whines, a sound he's never made this high in his throat and never in bed. His cock slaps up against his belly with every thrust, shaking that ten grand heirloom bed and it's all wrong, this fancy borrowed shit when they should be soaking sweat into some sleazy sideroad shithole, some place as dirty and fucked up as Sam as he straddles his weight across his chest and reaches back to spread his ass cheeks shameless wide for every inch of big brother dick he can get.
"God, Dean, Dean, Dean," Sam chants, tripping his new favorite curse word off his top teeth and spreading his ass like Dean could ever fuck him deep enough.
"Gotta be quiet, Sammy, what if, what if..."
Nestled deep Dean stills, not hesitant this time, coiled like the dangerous thing trapped under all that prep school shellac. Pulls out dirty, letting Sam simper empty as his hand smacks shut the fuck up sure across Sam's mouth.
"What if Dad hears you?"
Dean slams home and Sam comes so hard he might black out a little bit.
Hours, minutes, days later - it's all been a blur since he stepped into that elevator - Dean's laying on top of him, chest sweat-stuck to Sam's back, hands over-undered onto Sam's shoulders for leverage.
"Come on my dick, Sammy, come like I taught you, made you, fuck."
Teeth on his shoulder, teasing at the scars that should be crisscrossing his body, red lines over the Kenshaw County Map of the US (c) that Dean had traced for him, every road we've ever driven on, Sammy, see?
"Feel so good for me, Sammy, fucking tight no matter how many times I fuck you, aren't you?"
Four rounds in a Tuscaloosa two room, Sam's learner's permit smile cock swollen and Dean splitting into him, how many times can you fuck me before he gets back, Dean, dare you.
"Gonna fill you up, baby, get it deep how you like."
School bell ringing, Arizona heat on him and Dean pinning him to tile cool wall, deep inside, gonna take me to class with you today, Sammy.
"Need your big brother to come in your ass, baby boy?"
Always raw, bare inside and full to the brim, his brother's cup runneth over as Dean growls his name like he's summoning something.
Ground in deep, full full full and Sam always wants more, spoiled, Sammy, spoiled little brother brat, suck me dry one day Sammy.
"The fuck, Sam."
Dean heaves on him, breath skipping on Sam's neck, hot cold hot as it skates past Sam's face to too-soft sheets. Sam blinks back their reflection in real estate wet dream floor to ceiling windows, too shiny all around.
Sloppy ache asshole, come burning mean inside him like a big brother prank, Sam grunts through the pull out and rolls them over.
Come dripping down his thighs - never gets deep enough, does it Sammy - he gets Dean on his back. He's sweaty all over, hair upswept and it looks better standing up. His cock's a mess, come streaked and settling soft against his thigh, but there's still one pristine part that Sam needs to brother tease open.
"I know what you like, Dean."
He settles between Dean's thighs, kisses his way from knee to crease, tender where he should be tearing.
"How do I..."
Dean smells like sex between his legs but not enough, not the way he should after two days out on blacktop.
"You like it when I eat your ass, take my time and lick you open, like you..."
Two queens, get your tongue in deeper, Sammy, just like that.
"Like I taught you."
Sam noses down, instinct welling wet in his mouth, spit and swipe with his thumb. Dean likes it wet.
"Get your fucking face in there."
Dean's hand curls into his hair, big brother bossy even with his legs spreading wide. He groans so pretty when Sam licks into him over and over, circle and dive and he could do this until his face goes numb. His jaw aches, familiar and strange all at once.
"Your fucking mouth, Sammy."
Dean ruts against his face, riding Sam's tongue and tugging him in closer.
"Gonna give me more, Sammy, put that big dick to work for me?"
Sam shouldn't be hard again but he shouldn't be tasting the first time he'd licked himself out of Dean's fresh fucked asshole either.
"Don't have any lube, Dean," Sam lies, some other boy's voice tripping off his tongue.
Dean's finger circles around his hole, spit shiny where a ring should be glinting.
"Good thing I got you all wet before."
Sam groans, wondering how he can love someone he just met.
"You like it dirty."
Sam cups his hand under himself, God, he's never been like this, sneering and straining to push Dean's load out and smear it on his cock.
"You like it when it hurts."
He knocks Dean's knees back and stares down at his barely-open hole.
"Makes you feel alive, makes you feel something when nothing else will."
He spits down, webbing from his lips to Dean's French kissed hole.
"You wanna feel me, big brother?"
Dean wails when Sam forces himself in, violent and ugly and brutal and everything Dean Smith will never be. It makes Sam sick and it makes everything inside him unfold.
"Sammy," Dean chokes, teeth grit and fists clenched in the sheets as Sam fucks him rough, ruinous, righteous.
"That's my boy."
Sam's always empty and Dean always hurts and one day they'll swallow each other whole, but they'll always be each other's.
"Give it to me, Sammy."
Sam comes inside his brother until there's not an inch of either of them that's clean.
"We should get on the road soon, little brother."
Sam smiles as he folds himself onto Dean's chest.
They can't take it back.