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Entry tags:	- supernatural, ♥ dean winchester/sam winchester

Fanfiction | Supernatural > Moment of Weakness > NC17
Title: Moment of Weakness [01/01]
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean Winchester / Sam Winchester
Rating: NC17
Summary: Dean's one eyebrow quirks perfectly, he's an expert at that, and he waits. Sam doesn't say it. Then Dean starts to undo his belt, his hands moving very slowly.
Note: Born of boredom, nothing but a quickie smut fic. Just needed a brief change from my WIP.
Warnings: Slash, (W)incest, sexual content, a toy, bottom!Sammy.
Disclaimer: No harm, no foul.
Words: 2518

MOMENT OF WEAKNESS

Sam shifts slightly, and the hotel bed groans a protest that seems suddenly so loud in the tiny room. He freezes, glancing away from the newspaper he's been flicking through, and he finds Dean staring at him from over top of the laptop. The older Winchester is just barely smirking, and his hazel eyes are smoldering.

"Problem, Sammy?" He asks.

Sure -- the room's a bit chilly, and he wants to put his shirt back on. Not to mention, he's rock hard and straining against his jeans, and he wants nothing more than to just give himself some sweet relief. Oh yeah, and the plug inside of him is starting to make him feel just a bit sore -- he wishes he could strip his jeans off and start working the toy in and out of himself. But he knows he can't do this. And he knows better than to voice any of these thoughts.

"No," he says, "No problem."

Dean grins, then his gaze lowers as he goes back to whatever he's doing. Sam shifts again, chewing on the inside of his cheek, and he looks back to his newspaper. He doesn't read it however -- he couldn't have concentrated on it if you'd paid him, to be quite honest. He instead lets his vision blur, the black news type blending together on the paper, and his mind starts to wander.

Dean had woken that day in one of those moods, the ones that always excited Sam. When Dean was in a mood, it usually meant the night would be long and rough, fulfilling yet draining. It'd started with the handjob in the Impala.

Sam had been looking over their map as they left the deserted gas station, Dean had been enjoying a lollipop as he drove. Just as Sam had opened his mouth to speak, Dean's right hand made a bee-line for the younger man's crotch. Of course, Sam had instantly went hard -- it'd felt like it'd been forever since someone else besides him had touched his dick. Dean had jerked him off through his jeans slowly, his other hand lazily holding onto the wheel, the lollipop stick bouncing between those perfect lips of his. And while Sam had groaned and writhed in the passenger seat, pushing himself up against Dean's firm hand, Dean had just grinned around his candy, his gaze never leaving the road.

Next came the teasing at dinner. They'd stopped off at a cheap little bar and grill, looking for only the essentials -- beer and warm food. While they ate, sitting across from each other in the dimly lit restaurant, the toe of Dean's boot found its way between Sam's legs. Dean made eyes at Sam the rest of the night, his foot rubbing Sam's bulge with just enough pressure to drive him insane -- and Sam had had to pretend it wasn't happening.

And then they'd gotten the room at that seedy hotel. Off went Sam's clothes, in went the plug. But then Dean had decided to torture him of course, and made his younger brother put his jeans back on. He played with Sam for just a moment or two, palming, squeezing, even kissing him through the thick denim. And then he'd walked away.

Sam glances at his watch inconspicuously -- he knows what Dean's waiting for, why Dean hasn't returned to him yet. But he's not going to cave that easily, he's not going to ask for it. He presses his own hand against his erect dick, holding his breath slightly, and he glances up to make sure Dean isn't watching. As he pretends to read the paper, he continues pressing down against his erection, just trying to give himself some of the friction he's craving so bad.

And suddenly, Dean's standing up.

The older Winchester nears him, arms hanging loosely at his sides, head cocked just slightly and the smirk playing at his lips. Not a smirk, but the smirk. Sam always feels like Dean can read his mind when he's wearing that smirk. Sam tries to play it casual, raising his eyebrow at Dean in question.

"Find anything interesting?" Dean asks, eyes dancing.

Sam clears his throat, looking at the paper, then at his brother, then back at the paper. "Uh, well...you know..."

Dean suddenly grabs the newspaper, and he shakes it slightly. "Thought so," he said, "Considering you've had it upside-down the whole time."

He tosses the paper to the other bed, and his gaze never leaves Sam's. He's waiting for it. Sam's not going to give in. After what feels like hours, days even, Dean finally moves. He grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it off slowly, dropping it to the floor soundlessly. Then he leans in and kisses Sam firmly, his bottom lip feels slightly rough, as if it's becoming chapped. One of Dean's hands moves over Sam's chest, his fingers pulling none-too-gently at the younger man's hardened nipples. Sam can't help the noise that escapes him.

Dean pulls back, straightening and looking very smug. "Say it," he says quietly.

But Sam's not going to cave that easily. He shakes his head just barely, just enough so that Dean gets the picture. Dean's smirk widens into a grin, and he reaches over, combing his fingers through Sam's hair. After a second or two, his fingers twist into some of the locks, and he pulls lightly. Sam doesn't fight, allowing himself to be positioned, and he isn't surprised that Dean's pulling him from the bed to the floor. Next thing Sam knows, he's sitting on the floor, his back against the bed, and Dean's obvious erection is level with his face.

And the plug inside him moves around, making him wince and groan at the same time.

Dean's one eyebrow quirks perfectly, he's an expert at that, and he waits. Sam doesn't say it. Then Dean starts to undo his belt, his hands moving very slowly. The button pops, and the room is so quiet you can practically hear it. Then the zipper slides down smoothly. Dean doesn't take his pants off completely, just pulls his cock out, and gives Sam that smirk again. Despite the bittersweet torture Sam is going through, he returns a smirk of his own, raising his arms and placing them on top of the mattress on either side of him, as if he's lounging on a couch, perfectly comfortable.

Dean grins again, and moves forward, legs separating so he can stand astride his younger brother. Sam is already relaxing his throat muscles, tilting his head just enough, and as the smooth head of Dean's dick brushes against his lips, already dripping with precum, Sam opens his mouth. Both of Dean's hands are tangled in Sam's hair, and he starts to push himself into Sam's mouth slowly, his breath catching slightly. Sam keeps his gaze locked with Dean's, and he revels in watching the different expressions cross his brother's face as he shapes his lips around his cock.

A groan escapes Dean as Sam starts to suck, and not lightly at that -- his cheeks make hollows, and he swirls his tongue over and around the helmet. The older Winchester's hips start moving, and soon he's thrusting into Sam's mouth, holding him place.

"You're gonna say it," Dean grunts out, pulling at Sam's hair. His eyes are glowing as they stare into Sam's, and despite the roughness, the grit of the moment, Sam can see the affection in them. "I'm gonna hear it tonight."

Sam allows his teeth to graze over Dean's velvet-like shaft, and Dean intakes sharply. Then Sam tries to convey through his gaze that he thinks Dean's an arrogant jerk. Dean gets it, and he laughs.

"Bitch," he breathes out.

Only a few moments pass, of course Dean isn't going to waste the night like this. When Dean pulls himself out of Sam's mouth, backing up a pace or so, Sam flashes him a little smile. He doesn't think he's won just yet, but he can see the clear temptation on Dean's face -- if Sam can just hold out for a little while longer, he's sure it'll be Dean who'll cave first.

Dean grabs Sam and with almost no help from him, he pulls the younger man up from the floor, shoving him back on the bed. The plug moves again, and Sam's back arches as if it has a mind of its own, though he tries to pretend he doesn't notice. Dean chuckles at him, and his fingers move swiftly over the button and zipper of Sam's jeans. As he yanks Sam's pants down for the second time that night, dropping them clumsily to the floor, he crawls onto the bed to lay beside his brother. His mouth seeks out Sam's immediately, and just as his tongue pushes its way into Sam's mouth, one of his hands closes around Sam's balls.

Sam moans, he can't help it, and Dean starts to knead his fingers, squeezing and massaging Sam's balls lightly. Sam can't even focus on the kiss anymore, and he breaks his mouth away from Dean's, letting his head fall back against the mattress. Dean doesn't mind, of course, and moves his hot lips to Sam's neck, where he then begins to suck and gently bite at the column of Sam's throat. Another groan slips from Sam's mouth, and he reaches down to start stroking himself.

Dean gives a laugh, sitting up some, and his other hand grabs Sam's wrist. He shakes his head, "Not getting off that easy," he says, voice a low rumble in his chest.

Sam lets out a little groan, half-tempted to try with his other hand. He knows Dean'll just stop him however, and decides to raise both of his arms above his head, grabbing at the bed sheet with clenching fingers. Dean swings a leg over Sam's, and he's now straddling the younger Winchester's thighs, and as he continues to squeeze and pull at Sam's balls, he uses his other hand to start stroking Sam. Only, he does it slowly, agonizingly slowly.

"You want me to fuck you?" He asks.

Sam doesn't answer, biting his bottom lip as if it'll stop the words from leaving his mouth. Dean grins wickedly, and stops altogether, letting go of Sam and raising his hands somewhat -- as if he's showing Sam he's not going any further. Sam writhes, cursing under his breath.

"Dean," it escapes him in a mewl.

"Yeah?" He's waiting.

Sam forces the words back down his throat, exchanging them for a throaty moan. Dean's laughing at him again, and suddenly he's maneuvering them once more, spreading Sam's legs and moving in between them. He reaches down and grabs the flared end of the plug, and he starts to gently pull it out. Now a real groan leaves Sam, and his back arches again, his head falling back. A mix of feelings rush through his body -- relief, pain, pleasure, craving. But instead of taking it completely out, Dean pulls it just to the very tip, before pushing it back into the younger man.

Sam curses again, his body giving a little shudder, and he goes to reach for his cock once more. Of course, Dean smacks his hands away, and grins at him again.

"Say it," he says. "Just two little words."

"Ugh," a pant leaves Sam, and though he's shaking his head, he gives in. He caves first, and he says it. "Fuck me," he begs, "Fuck me, Dean."

Now Dean looks like a little kid on Christmas, as he's been waiting all damn day to hear this, and Sam doesn't know if he wants to cheer what's coming, or slap his brother in the face. Dean pulls the plug out slowly, remembering to be gentle with it, and he drops it to the bed beside them before reaching into his pocket. He pulls out the bottle of lube he'd used earlier for the plug, and he wastes no time in spreading an even layer over his still erect prick.

He drops the bottle beside them as well, then grabs Sam's hips and lifts them, positioning Sam in just the right way. Sam's chest is heaving so hard he thinks he might have a heart attack before they get to the good part, and he grabs at Dean's shoulders as his brother lines them up. When the tip of Dean's dick prods his hole, he holds his breath in anticipation, and as Dean pushes passed the ring of muscle, already stretched slightly from the plug, Sam lets out a deep sigh. Fingers tightening on Sam's hips, Dean thrusts deeply, burying himself to the hilt.

Sam arches again, and he lifts his hips, trying to angle himself -- he needs Dean to hit that spot, and he needs it now. Dean's movements are quick and rough, he's thrusting in sharp motions, his eyes closed and face contorted into a mask of pleasure, and Sam lets loose a drawn-out moan, his body raising from the mattress to meet each of Dean's pumps. He grabs his throbbing dick quickly, and he starts stroking himself clumsily, fighting to keep his eyes open so that he can watch Dean.

A short noise leaves him as the end of Dean's cock just barely brushes against his prostate, and his free hand grabs at his brother's hips, trying to pull him in deeper. "Almost," he says breathlessly, "Dean."

The next thrust is angled perfectly, and Dean hits Sam's spot full-on. The younger Winchester feels like there's a volcano starting to erupt deep inside of him, and his stomach twists and knots up as he gasps in pleasure. As Dean pushes against it once more, letting out a groan of his own -- one that lets Sam know that he isn't too far behind with his own building orgasm -- warmth bubbles over in Sam's lower gut, and he can feel his balls tighten.

The feeling of Dean against his prostate mixed with the fast motions of his stroking hand brings Sam to the brink, and he arches a final time, his back coming high off of the mattress. He tightens around Dean as he comes, his load spilling out onto his abdomen and chest, and he milks himself roughly, breathing in ragged gasps now. Dean thrusts into him a few final times, body stiff and gleaming with sweat, and as he climaxes, he grabs a handful of Sam's hair, moaning loudly and holding onto his brother.

He collapses on top of Sam, panting heavily, and as they both start to return from their high, he kisses at Sam's neck. At the moment, Sam doesn't particularly care that he caved first, giving in and begging to be fucked, but he knows he will later. For now, he just lets himself enjoy the afterglow, and he runs his hands over Dean's smooth back in soft circles. He gives a contented sigh, and brushes his lips over Dean's temple.

Now you can see why it excites Sam when Dean gets into one of his moods.