apocalypsos | Fic: Blowjobs and Other Cheap Birthday Presents (Supernatural)

Title: Blowjobs and Other Cheap Birthday Presents
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,277 words
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: Incest, sexual situations, bad language
Spoilers: Pre-series
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like playing with them.
Summary: It's Sam's eighteenth birthday, and Dean knows exactly what to get him.
Author's note. Written for

poisontaster with the prompt, Sam/Dean; pre-Stanford, both boys too drunk to find their way home.

*****

Blowjobs and Other Cheap Birthday Presents

*****

So Dean's got this great idea, right, where he buys a couple of cases of beer for Sam's eighteenth birthday and the two of them drive out to the middle of nowhere (they're in Montana, so they've got plenty of nowhere to go to) and he proceeds to get Sam really fucking wasted.

And then they make out.

Okay, okay, so maybe that part's not the best idea in the world. But Dean's pretty sure Sam's never going to get laid at this point, not the way he ducks his head and gets all shy around girls the way he does. Not that it doesn't attract girls, because that sort of shit attracts girls like flies to a big bucket of honey, but Sam's followthrough is hysterically bad. Dean could pitch Sam's love life as a comedy and sell tickets at this point. Poor kid wraps girls around his little finger to the point where Dean's surprised he doesn't have one hanging around his neck all the time just in case, then just says a polite goodbye.

It's enough to drive an older brother to drink.

Or, you know, to buy a couple of cases of beer, drive said little brother out to the middle of nowhere and offer to blow him.

Dean really does not want to know what any of this says about his sexual inclinations, but he's really hoping the step after "offering to suck off your brother" isn't "finding sheep attractive."

So he's driven the Impala out to this field somewhere, okay, this great expanse of open land that isn't anywhere near any homes. It's almost like the entire world's fallen away from this one spot and it's just them, the car, the sky, the ground, and enough beer to make Dean ignore the fact this is a pretty romantic place to waste on a little brother, except for the part where Dean's just asked Sam if he wants Dean to give him a blowjob.

That look on Sam's face, that one like Dean's got lobsters crawling out his ears? Yeah, Dean was kind of expecting that look.

Sam narrows his eyes in disbelief, his lips tugging up at the corners in that reluctant goofy grin of his, and he says, "Uh, you couldn't have just gotten me a card?"

Dean shrugs as he leans back on the hood of the car and finishes off his beer. "Thought about it," he says, "but Hallmark's a waste of money."

"And two cases of Budweiser isn't?"

"Hey, beer's always a good investment, little brother," Dean says, and he can certainly attest to that. The more of it he drinks tonight, the more this whole blowjob thing is sounding like the best idea in the world. Better than getting Sam a girl, because the tall scrawny bastard couldn't hold onto one without a gigantic tube of Super Glue; better than arming up and taking Sam out to shoot something big and evil, because that never makes Sam half as happy as it makes Dean; better than offering to jerk Sam off, because now that's just really starting to feel like a step down.

"Look, man, I appreciate the offer," Sam says, and if he could sound a little less like he means that, that'd be really great, "but no thanks."

Dean frowns like he's been mortally offended. "Dude, why not?"

"You mean, aside from the fact that we're brothers?"

Dean waves his hand in that, "Yeah, and?" gesture.

"And I'm not gay?"

Another hand wave.

"And you're not gay?"

Dean levels his gaze at Sam and really hopes that, Do you really think I would be offering to blow you if I weren't at least a little bit gay?, telegraphs better than he expects it to.

Okay, he wouldn't call it gay exactly, because one of his friends at that second-to-last high school he'd gone to before graduation called it "everyonesexual" and Dean still thinks that's the best damn word on the planet. A hell of a lot better than bi, anyway. Everyonesexual, adj. Someone who's perfectly content to fuck anyone as long as they get off.

And it's probably a good thing Sam's completely wasted, even though knowing Sam, it wouldn't matter to him if Dean were only sexually attracted to overweight middle-aged bouncers named Bubba. But the beer's making Sam hazier than normal so mostly he just starts laughing and slumps toward Dean.

Laughter, Dean can deal with, especially if it brings him that much closer to that blowjob.

Sam's shoulder rests against his, his head ducked down as his entire body shakes with laughter, and the heavy scent of alcohol on his breath hits Dean hard and makes him realize something that he hadn't thought out before.

See, they're both drunk -- astoundingly so for Sam, and pretty damn close for Dean -- and there's no way in hell either one of them is remotely close to being sober enough to drive. Dean imagines Dad already knows they're not coming back tonight, since he knows Dad saw the cases of beer in the trunk and like Dad's ever been one to bitch about the legal drinking age. Hell, it is May and a little bit of a heat wave at that, which means it's not as cold as it could be and the sky's clear to boot.

There's no way they're driving back to the motel, not tonight, not like this, and now Sam's laughter's dying away but his head's still disturbingly close to Dean's.

So here's what Dean's thinking. Dean's thinking, Ten bucks says I can kiss him to the point where he's begging me to blow him.

What do you want? He's cocky like that.

Sam doesn't see it coming even though he really should, the way Dean tilts his head just right and captures Sam's lips with his own. Sam freezes in place and gasps a little, a bad move if he didn't want this going any further. Dean's tongue slips past his lips and flickers along the edge of his teeth, teasing at the inside of his mouth until Sam's groaning and kissing back. Dean's fingers slide through his dark hair and tighten, and all Dean can think is that Sam better damn well get it into his thick skull that Dean actually wants this, and fast.

Suddenly, Dean pulls back, and yeah, maybe he gets off a little on the breathless whimper that Sam makes when he does, and he says, "You know, I could still get you a puppy --" before Sam leans forward to complete the circuit again.

Sam reaches up and grabs onto Dean's neck, and it's like Dean forgot how big the kid's fucking hands are, like he really doesn't have any clue of how big they really were until Sam latches onto him as he's tasting Dean with these soft little licks that are making Dean so fucking hard his train of thought completely derails. He's got enough presence of mind to grasp Sam's belt in his hands, though, just enough working brain cells to yank the damn thing from the buckle and tug at Sam's zipper.

"Wait, wait," Sam says, and Dean is really fucking hoping his next words aren't, "We can't do this," because if so, he's going to end up taking that as a challenge to prove that not only are they physically capable of doing it, but Dean's pretty sure he can make Sam come so hard he won't be able to wake him up again until next week.

But then after way too many seconds of thinking, Sam says something that sounds distinctly like, "Backseat."

Dean's in this weird daze like all of that beer he just drank was really diluted novocaine or something, and he thinks, Backseat? Hey, I've got one of those!, like he's officially gone out of his mind, hauling Sam off the hood and around the car like he was really planning on staying back there.

So Dean's opening the door, right, and he thinks, Did Sam even say yes yet?

And that's when Sam turns him around, pushes him against the side of the Impala, and steals the breath from Dean with a few hungry kisses.

Call him crazy, but that definitely feels like a yes.

Well, that, and Sam's erection pressing between them. Funny how that works.

This time, it's Dean who says, "Hold on a sec," but that's mostly because he's going to have a difficult time opening the door to the back seat if he's still against the damn thing while Sam fucks his mouth with his tongue. Not that Dean's complaining, of course, or that he wants Sam's kisses -- and Jesus, that kid's really fucking good at that -- to stop.

But he's kind of had his heart set on that whole blowjob thing, and damn it, he's not leaving this field until he's done enough things to Sam (and his dick) to qualify their family for the Incredibly Fucked-Up Olympics and then some.

He pushes Sam back enough to open the door, then steers Sam around to sit in the back seat with his feet still planted out of the car. Now would be the perfect time for some sort of cocky remark, really, but Dean's mind has narrowed considerably to the point where coming up with a cocky remark would drag way too much of his attention away from the cock currently in front of him.

Right about then is where everything that wasn't hazy before goes completely haywire in Dean's brain, and he's tugging down Sam's jeans and boxers and saying something that he thinks is, "I've been waiting all week to do this," or some other remotely girly shit. But Dean can't really be sure, see, because the second his lips slip down over Sam's cock, the world goes all white noise and warmth.

Sam's yammering on about something up there, this string of words that could be begging and could be the dirtiest fucking porn on the planet -- hell, the kid's practically bursting with repressed sexual energy, right? -- but the only thing Dean's focusing on is trying to scramble Sam's brains through his dick. Considering the way his fingers slips through Dean's hair and how hard Dean's got to push his hips down to keep him from bucking up so hard he breaks Dean's nose ... yeah, that scrambling-Sam's-brains plan seems to be working like a charm.

Dean flicks his tongue along the underside of Sam's cock once, twice, and that third time's all it takes.

Sam's still lying there completely out of his mind -- literally, like when they both sober up and get out of here, they'll have to stop at a grocery store and pick up more brain cells or something -- so it takes him way too long to notice Dean kneeling on the ground next to his feet and jerking himself off.

The next thing Dean hears is another, "Wait, wait," and somehow, Sam's suddenly on the ground next to him like he got out of the backseat with this gelatinous slide and ended up beside him. It wouldn't be a shocker.

He pulls off the hand on Dean's cock and replaces it with his own, and Dean thinks, oh, fuck, at the same time that he may be saying the whole damn thing on repeat.

Now Dean's grip on reality is really fucking gone, because if there is anything going on in the world around them, Dean can't tell past the friction of Sam's fingers jerking him off and the warmth of Sam's breath as he leans in close and mouths kisses all over the curve of Dean's neck. And Dean would really start to wonder if Sam's protesting was just an act or something, because the kid is really getting into this whole thing to the point where when Dean finally comes, he looks at Sam's face after he stops shuddering and he could swear the kid looks triumphant.

"So," Dean says, and it comes out so ragged it's practically an entire paragraph.

"So," Sam says, and it comes out on this jagged, breathy laugh that's doing a hell of a job easing Dean towards getting hard again.

Dean's still trying to catch his breath, and apparently so is Sam, when Dean somehow manages to gather together enough brain cells to look at Sam with a straight face and say, "So what do you want for Christmas?"

Sam starts laughing and doesn't stop for ten minutes straight.

*****

So they're in Montana on Sam's twenty-third birthday, right, about as middle of nowhere as you can get and a couple of cases of beer in the trunk, and Dean's got this great idea ...

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

expastic.livejournal.com

*melts*

Just. With the. And the. NNGH.

Okay, so, besides the incredibly hot portion of this story, the structure of it makes me happy inside. Like really.

You totally rock.

From:

who was absolute shite at writing limericks ...

Fic: Blowjobs and Other Cheap Birthday Presents (Supernatural)

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