FicWad

This is my first ever fic, so be nice please guys! This plot bunny hopped into my head some random time and it won't get out. So here goes nothing :)

Dean Winchester rolled his head across the backseat of the Impala, sweat making his skin stick to the leather. He looked at his younger brother cramped into the opposite corner of the car, long limbs crammed up against the front seat and the window. Sammy looked like he was sleeping, his long hair falling over his face and his breathing deep and even. Dean knew his brother too well to believe that for a minute. It was Sam's fault they were stuck in this damn car in the first place. Well technically Dean had started it, but Sam was the one who had taken their pranks too far. At least that was what Dean would say if you asked him. Dean had put Nair in his brother’s shampoo, just to mess with the princess' hair. It had worked almost too well. The payback and counter payback pranks had escalated until they came to a head yesterday. Sammy had been hot, tired, and hurt that his father had refused to allow him to join Dean and himself on their current hunt, saying it was too dangerous. Dean, unable to help himself, had added that the grownups would be too busy hunting to babysit. So Sammy had taken Dean's sawn-off the moment he turned his back and replaced the rock-salt projectiles with, of all things, chewing gum. Dean had gone for a practice session the next morning, this morning come to think of it, and his screamed cuss words had nearly woken the whole motel. John had of course gone absolutely mental when he found out what had happened, placing both boys on car arrest and warning them that if this ever happened again, they'd be off to live with Uncle Bobby, who was 'nowhere near as much of a push over as me, ya hear?' Dean found the notion of Sir being a pushover rather amusing. Sammy had nearly burst into tears, the big girl, but had instead dropped his head in shame and choked out 'Yes Sir'.

That brought them to their current situation. Parked in the middle of some rocky field in the middle of nowhere, waiting for Dad to come back from his hunt and get them out of the heat. Dean looked closely at his kid brother. Aw great, Sammy was crying!
"What's the matter now, Samantha?"
Sammy sniffed and said in a small, miserable voice,
"You d-don't think Dad would REALLY send us away, do y-you?"
Dean sighed in frustration. Sam was 15, he needed to man up.
"Look, you know how Dad gets when he drinks a bit. It’s fine, it'll all be ok. Now stop snivelling, you're drivin me crazy."
Sam nodded and curled into the window a bit tighter. Dean looked at him quizzically.
"That can't be comfortable, sasquatch. Spread your gigantor limbs a little. I won't bite."
Sam stretched out of his contortionist impression, letting his legs sprawl across the floor space, his knees on either side of one of Dean's. Then he gave Dean his best puppy dog eyes.
Dean groaned.
"What? What do you want?"
Sam smiled at him pleadingly.
"Hug?"
Dean faced a huge dilemma. Be sensible and point out that a) it was much too hot and b) 15 and 19 year old brothers don't hug anymore, or give in to the instinct that said 'Make the world the best place for Sammy possible' which at the moment would mean hugging him. Dean sighed and held out his arms.
"C'mere, bitch."
Sam smiled as he wrapped his arms around his brother.
"Thanks, jerk."
Dean leaned back into the leather, secretly glad to be on his brother's good side again. Then he noticed just how hot it was.
"Jesus Sammy. How many layers are you wearing!? You heating us both up."
Sam did a mental calculation.
"3 I think?"
Dean nearly choked.
"Are you TRYING to kill yourself? Ever heard of a thing called heat stroke?"
Sam blushed.
"I just feel safer with more layers."
"Now is not the time for your self-esteem issues, Samantha. Take your t-shirts off, for Christ's sake."
Sam leant back from Dean blushing, and Dean had to duck to avoid an elbow to the nose as Sam stripped off all 3 tops at once. He sat there with his arms crossed over his bare chest, shoulders hunched forward protectively.
"I feel vulnerable Dean."
"You're such a whiner. I'll keep you safe, alright? Big baby."
Sam leaned back into Dean, his cheek resting against Dean's chest.
It lasted maybe 5 minutes before Sammy was pulling at Dean's plaid top saying,
"Take it off, it's itchy."
Dean sighed and disentangled himself from his brother long enough to discard the irritating material.
"Better?"
Sammy nodded happily against Dean's chest, his eyes closed. Dean started squirming after a short while.
"Sammy. Sammy, move. You're making me all sweaty."
"You mean sweatier, Dean. You were already sweaty."
"Well can you move anyway?"
Sam slid down Dean's body so that he was resting with his back and shoulders on the seat, his feet and head on the two door handles and his butt on Dean's lap.
Without opening his eyes, Sam asked:
"Better? 'Cause I'm not moving. Let me sleep."
Dean looked at the dark circles under Sam's eyes and sighed his consent. He stared out the window at the nearly colourless horizon and prepared for a long wait.
Dean let Sam sleep for half an hour before things got awkward. Sammy started making happy noises and squirming his hips around on Dean's lap. It wasn't long before he was sporting a very decent erection. Dean could feel how hot his blush was. This was beyond awkward. His brother was having a wet dream ON HIS LAP. Then to make matters even worse, Sam started thrusting his hips back onto Dean's pelvis. Dean couldn't help the gasp that tore out of his throat at the feeling of the friction. To his eternal shame, blood immediately rushed south, giving him a hard on before he could begin to get Sam away from him. Moving now could mean discovery. So Dean stayed put. The tension started to build and the need for contact was becoming too hard to bear, Dean's dick aching in his jeans. Trying to be conspicuous, he thrust up lightly against the pressure of his brother. God it felt good. So good to finally start easing the ache. Then Dean felt incredibly guilty. Was he being turned on by his baby brother? That was so unbelievably wrong and weird; this was his Sammy! Dean felt the shame and guilt coiling heavily in his stomach, beginning to choke him on his own disgusting feelings-
“D-DEAN… oh Dean…”
Dean stared incredulously at his brother, sure that he had imagined his name on Sam’s lips, before slamming his head back against the seat at the wave of white-hot pleasure washing through his bones as Sam pushed his hips back and down against Dean, grinding against him. Dean was helpless to stop the moans building up in his throat from escaping as Sam kept moving, a wet patch appearing on the front of his jeans. Dean wanted to reach out and touch the bulge in Sammy’s jeans; wanted to ease the throbbing ache he knew his brother was feeling.
Tentatively, Dean rested his hand against the bulge in Sam’s jeans, biting his lip as Sam moaned his name again. Then Dean looked up to find Sam’s eyes slitted open, the black of his pupil eating his iris as he looked at Dean. The two brothers regarded each other for a silent moment before Sam, keeping his eyes locked on Dean’s, slowly thrust up again.
“Sammy!”
Dean choked out his brother’s name.
“De… Dean, don’t stop… oh god don’t stop!”
Dean nearly wept in relief as Sam manoeuvred himself to straddle Dean, knocking Dean’s hands out of the way to push their denim-clad erections together.
“Shit, Sam!”
Sam purred happily against Dean’s collarbones, flicking his tongue out to taste the sweat-salty skin there. Dean, frustrated, began working on Sam’s jeans, moaning when they wouldn’t come any further off his body because of Sam’s position.
“Sam, get off of me.”
Sam froze, his body going stock-still.
“You… you don’t want…. Oh god, Dean, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, De, please!”
Dean chuckled and pushed his brother onto his back on the seat.
“I do want, Sammy, I do. But I have to get your clothes off first.”
Sam grinned and arched his back so Dean could slip his jeans, along with his boxers, down and off Sam’s long legs. Sam moaned happily as his leaking dick was let out of the restraining clothes. Dean smiled at the sight.
“Sammy you’re beautiful. Such a beautiful boy for me to have.”
Sam blushed and began tugging at Dean’s jeans.
“Off. Too many clothes.”
Dean stripped out of his jeans and boxers as quickly as he could, panting and flushed as he knelt before Sam, who suddenly looked apprehensive.
“It’s ok, Sammy. We aren’t going to do anything unless you want to. Have you done this before?”
Sam fidgeted uncomfortably.
“I haven’t done ANYTHING before, Dean.”
Dean took a deep, shaky breath, unsure whether to be relieved or sad that he would be Sam’s first partner in any sense of the term.
“It’s ok Sammy.”
Dean came to lean over Sam, lightly rubbing their erections together, both hissing at the sensation.
“Jesus… Dean… morepleasemoremoremore!”
Dean grinned and leaned in to kiss his brother, tongues sliding softly before beginning to explore each other’s mouths. Sam moaned into Dean’s mouth as Dean brought his hand down to touch Sam’s thighs teasingly, trailing his fingers up and back and then moving to rub Sam’s flat stomach. Dean broke the kiss to start attacking Sam’s neck, leaving bites and licks that would be deep purple by the next morning.
Sam bucked up into his brother as a hand trailed across his sensitive nipples and Dean chuckled, reaching between them to start lazily, loosely, jerking his brother. Sam groaned at the too-little sensation and wrapped his arms around Dean, bringing him closer, before Dean started getting him off in earnest.
Sam didn’t last very long, shuddering and shouting his release, thick ropes of cum coating Dean’s hand and dick as he whispered in Sam’s ear that it was ok, just to breathe.
The look on Sam’s face was too much for Dean, eyes all glazed and mouth loose and slack as he blindly groped at Dean, who came after a single stroke from Sam’s hand.

Wiping them off with one of the discarded shirts, Dean grabbed both their boxers and helped Sam struggle into his after putting his own on, then rolled over so that Sam lay on top of him, heartbeat to heartbeat.
“Go to sleep Sammy. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
Sam smiled sleepily and nodded his head, sliding down so that his face rested against Dean’s chest.
“Mk Dean. You too.”
The un-said ‘I love you’s made them both smile and hug tighter. Then sleep claimed them both.

Dean was woken by his father slamming the Impala’s driver door. Night was closing in outside the window as John turned to the two boys behind him, Sam still asleep on Dean.
“Ain’t he heavy, boy?”
Dean smiled and looked at Sam’s peaceful face.
“He ain’t heavy; he’s my brother.”
~fin~