Fic: Valentine's Day at the Love Nest Motel
Title: Valentine's Day at the Love Nest Motel
Author: firesign10
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Word Count: 2120
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not real, no profit
Read below the cut here on LJ or on AO3
Summary: Sam & Dean think they are checking into one of their usual dives after a hunt, didn't even realize it was Valentine's Day. But the place only has one room left and every room in the place has been set up for romantic encounters. And oh my God there was only one rose covered, candlelit bed.
Notes: From cherie_morte's prompt above in the Be Mine Valentine Comment Meme. Thanks to jerzcaligrl, theatregirl7299, rocketmojo, and arrowfoster for feedback and support. I hope you like it, Cherie!
“What. The fuck. Is this??”
Dean's voice was filled with disdain. Looking around the room, Sam kinda couldn't blame him.
They'd checked into the Lovers Nest motel (Where Lovers Rest the Best!) relatively early for them at only 11:00 p.m. They'd wrapped up a (mostly) non-messy hunt mid-afternoon, then put a good eight hours between them and the hunt. Now they were in flat and featureless Ohio, and it seemed as good a place as any to rest and recuperate.
Only when they'd entered their room...
Sam didn't think he'd ever seen so much pink in one space before. While the walls were the standard motel-neutral off-white, everything else was pink.
Or to be exact, PINK.
The bedspreads were cotton-candy pink with darker pink trim. Pink throw pillows featured large red hearts on them. A big dark pink heart-shaped rug covered the worn carpet. A pink lampshade cast a warm pink-tinted light over everything, including the pink candles clustered on the nightstands. And to cap it all off, rose petals in all hues of pink were scattered over the bedspread like a florist had lost his mind.
“Wow,” said Sam. It was all he could think to say.
“'S like fuckin' Barbie threw up in here,” Dean grumbled. He dropped his duffle bag on the floor and gestured randomly. “What the hell is all this?” Turning to glare at Sam, Dean added, “And why is there only one bed?”
Sam swallowed on his dry throat and shrugged. He had no idea what this was all about. “Go ask at the desk? Maybe there's another room we can switch to,” he croaked.
“Yeah, someone musta had big plans.” Dean rolled his eyes and moved his hand obscenely over his crotch.
Sam sighed. “I'll go ask. Be right back,” he mumbled.
Stepping outside of the den of pinkness, Sam took a moment to adjust his jeans. While the pink disaster hadn't done anything for his libido, Dean grabbing his crotch had. Dang!
Sam walked over to the lobby where the front desk was. “Excuse me,” he said politely. “I think we must have the wrong room. It's, uh, well, it's very...pink. And there's a lot of candles and petals and stuff.”
The clerk shook his head. “Nope. That's how all our room are fixed up tonight. It's Valentine's Day! So we like to create a little atmosphere for our guests.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.
“Oh, wow, I didn't realize that,” stuttered Sam, thrown off guard by the dancing strips of fur on the clerk's face. “Well, we need a room with two beds anyway.”
“No can do. That's our last room. All the others are already filled up.” He shrugged. “It's a king anyway, you boys oughta fit okay on it,” he added with a leer.
Sam actually backed up a step, unsettled by the leer after those eyebrows. “Um, okay, we'll make do, thank you!” He hurried out of the lobby, reluctant to update Dean, but even more reluctant to confront the clerk again.
When he got back to the room, he saw that Dean had found some heart-shaped chocolates and was busy munching them while checking his phone.
“Well?” Dean asked, voice clogged with chocolate.
Sam shook his head. “It's their Valentine's Day decorating for their guests. And this is the last room. We'll have to deal.”
Dean grumbled some more as he took off his boots. “Fine. Whatever. Dibs on first shower, so get rid of the flower crap.” He pulled his over-shirt and t-shirt off, flinging them into a corner of the room. “Fucking floofy shit.” He stomped off to the bathroom, leaving Sam to stare unabashedly at Dean's muscular back and ridiculously broad shoulders. Just watching those muscles flex as Dean moved was enough to get Sam chubbing up.
“Alright, settle down, champ,” he scolded his dick. “We'll have a little shower time and then you gotta take it easy.” There really wasn't any good way to suggest to your heterosexual brother, 'hey, I'm in love with you, why don't we fuck around?' Sam made do with jerking off in the shower, and the occasional time alone in a motel room while Dean was off tomcatting around.
“Hey!” Sam went over to the bathroom door and yelled. “What about this being Valentine's Day? Aren't you going to go out for uh, what was it...oh yeah! 'Unattached Drifter's Christmas'?”
The door opened and a cloud of steam emerged, along with a very pink-skinned Dean. Sam refrained from commenting on how Dean matched the room now, knowing his brother would not appreciate it. The snicker, however, slipped out, earning Sam a green-eyed glare.
“My turn!” Sam chortled, and slammed the bathroom door behind him.
Sam had left the scattered rose petals untouched, as if ignoring them might make them go away. He wondered if Dean would deal with them while Sam was showering. For a split second, Sam envisioned sprawling on the bed amid the petals, the soft flower bits sticking to his still-moist skin. Dean rolling around in them with him, their bodies crushing the petals and releasing their perfume, like some soft-focus Hallmark movie.
Then he cracked up and turned off the shower. Slinging a towel around his hips, Sam left the haven of the bathroom.
Dean was already in bed, apparently deciding that almost two a.m. was not worth the lonely-girl pickings. That was a relief to Sam, since now he didn't have to watch Dean naked or mostly naked. Despite having seen his brother that way most of their lives, as Sam's beyond-brotherly (and lustful) feelings had developed, it was much more difficult to handle nowadays.
However, Dean had also ignored the rose petals, which were still all over the bedspread; apparently he'd just lifted a corner and slid in beneath the sheet, hardly dislodging any.
Whatever, thought Sam. He managed to do the same thing, edging his way beneath the spread and the blanket. Closing his eyes, he willed sleep to knock him out ASAP, before he started obsessing about Dean's naked body only a few slight inches away.
No sleep yet. Hmmm, I wonder how smooth his skin is. Sam felt a little restless, his cock stirring. That's enough of that, mister. Sleep now.
Sam huffed and turned onto his side. His lips look crazy soft. I'd slide my mouth right across his, lick-- Shit, now he was definitely getting a boner. Turning back onto his back again, Sam could see the little tent he was pitching. Great. He thumped his head down onto his pillow, trying to think of entrails and week-old corpses.
“What's going on there, Sammy?” Dean whispered gruffly. “You uh, goin' camping?” He snickered softly.
“Got a little wood, it happens,” Sam replied stiffly. He started to turn on his side facing away from Dean, but a warm hand caught his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about, getting all hard like that?” Dean murmured. He scootched a little closer, and Sam could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Some hot chick? Some hot guy? Some hot porno?”
“Nothing. None of the above. Leave me alone.” Sam gave a huffy sniff. The perfume from the rose petals was heavy in the air now, and their sweetness made Sam feel a little woozy. “What do you mean, 'a hot guy' anyway?”
Dean chuckled, a low, rich sound. “I've seen you checking guys out. You're subtle, Sammy, but I know all your tells. If you ain't been with a guy, you've sure thought about it.”
Sam gulped. What the fuck, were these rose petals getting him high? “Have you...been with a guy?”
Another low chuckle. “I have. Kinda miss the tits, but I do love me some dick, and a guy who knows how to use it.” The hand moved away from Sam's shoulder, and he had to stifle a gasp when he heard the distinctive sound of a hand moving against an erection. Dean continued, his voice a little hoarser, “A guy knows what a guy likes, and they're not too delicate like a chick can be sometimes.”
Sam's own hard-on was now at full mast, the bedspread no longer a pup tent but a circus top. Talking about sex with a naked Dean who was now jerking off just a couple of inches away, well, Sam's brain was getting pretty fried. His chest felt a little tight, and when he tried to casually slide his hand over it, his nipples were tight and hard against his palm. He had to bite his lip not to moan at the sharp pleasure of contact.
“Oh Sammy, you getting hot and bothered there? You like what I'm saying? Or the sound of my hand on my dick?” Dich brought his hand up and licked across the palm, his eyes boring into Sam's the whole time. The slapslap was even more distinct now, and Sam felt a little wet spot growing on the sheet stretched over his cock. “You gonna join me? I can tell you some bedtime stories, what it's like to give someone a good dicking, feel their tight little hole take your cock in, how hot it is inside, hotter 'n tighter than pussy.”
It was getting hard to breathe. Sam thought it must be the goddamn rose petals, their heavy scent filling his nose. His lungs were definitely working harder, pushing the thick air in and out.
“You hard, little brother? Bet you are, bet your cock is fat and huge under there. I can see the fuckin' blanket, dude, you got a tentpole there.” Dean was closer, his breath puffing on Sam's skin. “Wanna show me? I seen you naked before but never saw you hard. Let me see, c'mon, show me...”
Sam hurled the blanket off, sending rose petals flying through the air. He squeezed the base of his dick, hissing at the pleasure of his grip, watching pre-come swell up in his slit and slide down the veiny shaft. “God, Dean...” he croaked.
Dean whistled. “Shit, son! That's a goddamn boa constricter, a fuckin' anaconda!” Then he was rightthere, pressed up against Sam's side, all hot skin and an iron rod poking Sam's thigh. Sam gurgled unintelligibly, hips twisting for that pressure, seeking--
Dean's hand handed on Sam's hip, pulling him in tight and hard, his hips grinding. Their cocks collided, bumping clumsily until they fell into place, slotting against hip cuts and firm thighs to rut fiercely. Pre-come helped slick the way, but then Dean magically had a little bottle, and something cool and slippery oozed all over their dicks, took the intensity and ratcheted it up to holy shit.
The thick rose-scented air cloaked them, blanketed them in lust and fervor. Sam grasped at everything he could grab; Dean's meaty shoulder, his round ass, his spiky hair. Dean's hands reciprocated, running up and down Sam's back, lifting one thigh over his hip. Skin grew hot and sweaty. Breath exchanged with breath. Hips moved in rhythm together, pushing, urging, more, more moremore.
“Aahh!” yelled Sam, his hands clutching frenziedly on Dean's moist skin. His dick shot hot strands of come over Dean's soft belly.
“Fuck!” hollered Dean, likewise marking Sam with liberal spatters of white. They panted and pressed their bellies together, smearing each other with their sticky spend.
It took several minutes to unwind after that cataclysmic moment. Foreheads pressed together, still sharing breath, the brothers came down from their high. Skin cooled, breath slowed, until finally Dean pulled back a smidge and said, “So...”
Sam gave a half-smile. He could feel his cheeks were still flushed, but also that their shared come was cooling on their stomachs. “Guess we better, uh, clean up.”
“Yeah.”
More silence, and now Sam started feeling nervous again. What had they just done? What had he just done? “Uh, Dean...”
Soft lips brushed his, pressed against his forehead. “Shhh. Stop. Nothing to worry about here.” A finger lifted Sam's chin, and Dean's deep green eyes studied his. “Nothing happened here that I didn't want. And not in the 'good-time-of-the-week' way.” Dean tucked Sam into him, cradling Sam's head against his broad chest. “I never did anything because I never wanted to freak you out. If I lost you over something like this? Dude...” His words trailed off into a bitter chuckle. “It wasn't worth it. But now?”
“Now...we can have both.” Sam answered.
“We can have both.” Dean echoed.
Several more minutes of contented silence went by, until Dean stirred..
“Except...”
Sam froze. Except...when Dean wanted a girl? Except when... “What?”
“Can we get rid of all this fucking pink?”
Author: firesign10
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Word Count: 2120
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not real, no profit
Read below the cut here on LJ or on AO3
Summary: Sam & Dean think they are checking into one of their usual dives after a hunt, didn't even realize it was Valentine's Day. But the place only has one room left and every room in the place has been set up for romantic encounters. And oh my God there was only one rose covered, candlelit bed.
Notes: From cherie_morte's prompt above in the Be Mine Valentine Comment Meme. Thanks to jerzcaligrl, theatregirl7299, rocketmojo, and arrowfoster for feedback and support. I hope you like it, Cherie!
“What. The fuck. Is this??”
Dean's voice was filled with disdain. Looking around the room, Sam kinda couldn't blame him.
They'd checked into the Lovers Nest motel (Where Lovers Rest the Best!) relatively early for them at only 11:00 p.m. They'd wrapped up a (mostly) non-messy hunt mid-afternoon, then put a good eight hours between them and the hunt. Now they were in flat and featureless Ohio, and it seemed as good a place as any to rest and recuperate.
Only when they'd entered their room...
Sam didn't think he'd ever seen so much pink in one space before. While the walls were the standard motel-neutral off-white, everything else was pink.
Or to be exact, PINK.
The bedspreads were cotton-candy pink with darker pink trim. Pink throw pillows featured large red hearts on them. A big dark pink heart-shaped rug covered the worn carpet. A pink lampshade cast a warm pink-tinted light over everything, including the pink candles clustered on the nightstands. And to cap it all off, rose petals in all hues of pink were scattered over the bedspread like a florist had lost his mind.
“Wow,” said Sam. It was all he could think to say.
“'S like fuckin' Barbie threw up in here,” Dean grumbled. He dropped his duffle bag on the floor and gestured randomly. “What the hell is all this?” Turning to glare at Sam, Dean added, “And why is there only one bed?”
Sam swallowed on his dry throat and shrugged. He had no idea what this was all about. “Go ask at the desk? Maybe there's another room we can switch to,” he croaked.
“Yeah, someone musta had big plans.” Dean rolled his eyes and moved his hand obscenely over his crotch.
Sam sighed. “I'll go ask. Be right back,” he mumbled.
Stepping outside of the den of pinkness, Sam took a moment to adjust his jeans. While the pink disaster hadn't done anything for his libido, Dean grabbing his crotch had. Dang!
Sam walked over to the lobby where the front desk was. “Excuse me,” he said politely. “I think we must have the wrong room. It's, uh, well, it's very...pink. And there's a lot of candles and petals and stuff.”
The clerk shook his head. “Nope. That's how all our room are fixed up tonight. It's Valentine's Day! So we like to create a little atmosphere for our guests.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.
“Oh, wow, I didn't realize that,” stuttered Sam, thrown off guard by the dancing strips of fur on the clerk's face. “Well, we need a room with two beds anyway.”
“No can do. That's our last room. All the others are already filled up.” He shrugged. “It's a king anyway, you boys oughta fit okay on it,” he added with a leer.
Sam actually backed up a step, unsettled by the leer after those eyebrows. “Um, okay, we'll make do, thank you!” He hurried out of the lobby, reluctant to update Dean, but even more reluctant to confront the clerk again.
When he got back to the room, he saw that Dean had found some heart-shaped chocolates and was busy munching them while checking his phone.
“Well?” Dean asked, voice clogged with chocolate.
Sam shook his head. “It's their Valentine's Day decorating for their guests. And this is the last room. We'll have to deal.”
Dean grumbled some more as he took off his boots. “Fine. Whatever. Dibs on first shower, so get rid of the flower crap.” He pulled his over-shirt and t-shirt off, flinging them into a corner of the room. “Fucking floofy shit.” He stomped off to the bathroom, leaving Sam to stare unabashedly at Dean's muscular back and ridiculously broad shoulders. Just watching those muscles flex as Dean moved was enough to get Sam chubbing up.
“Alright, settle down, champ,” he scolded his dick. “We'll have a little shower time and then you gotta take it easy.” There really wasn't any good way to suggest to your heterosexual brother, 'hey, I'm in love with you, why don't we fuck around?' Sam made do with jerking off in the shower, and the occasional time alone in a motel room while Dean was off tomcatting around.
“Hey!” Sam went over to the bathroom door and yelled. “What about this being Valentine's Day? Aren't you going to go out for uh, what was it...oh yeah! 'Unattached Drifter's Christmas'?”
The door opened and a cloud of steam emerged, along with a very pink-skinned Dean. Sam refrained from commenting on how Dean matched the room now, knowing his brother would not appreciate it. The snicker, however, slipped out, earning Sam a green-eyed glare.
“My turn!” Sam chortled, and slammed the bathroom door behind him.
Sam had left the scattered rose petals untouched, as if ignoring them might make them go away. He wondered if Dean would deal with them while Sam was showering. For a split second, Sam envisioned sprawling on the bed amid the petals, the soft flower bits sticking to his still-moist skin. Dean rolling around in them with him, their bodies crushing the petals and releasing their perfume, like some soft-focus Hallmark movie.
Then he cracked up and turned off the shower. Slinging a towel around his hips, Sam left the haven of the bathroom.
Dean was already in bed, apparently deciding that almost two a.m. was not worth the lonely-girl pickings. That was a relief to Sam, since now he didn't have to watch Dean naked or mostly naked. Despite having seen his brother that way most of their lives, as Sam's beyond-brotherly (and lustful) feelings had developed, it was much more difficult to handle nowadays.
However, Dean had also ignored the rose petals, which were still all over the bedspread; apparently he'd just lifted a corner and slid in beneath the sheet, hardly dislodging any.
Whatever, thought Sam. He managed to do the same thing, edging his way beneath the spread and the blanket. Closing his eyes, he willed sleep to knock him out ASAP, before he started obsessing about Dean's naked body only a few slight inches away.
No sleep yet. Hmmm, I wonder how smooth his skin is. Sam felt a little restless, his cock stirring. That's enough of that, mister. Sleep now.
Sam huffed and turned onto his side. His lips look crazy soft. I'd slide my mouth right across his, lick-- Shit, now he was definitely getting a boner. Turning back onto his back again, Sam could see the little tent he was pitching. Great. He thumped his head down onto his pillow, trying to think of entrails and week-old corpses.
“What's going on there, Sammy?” Dean whispered gruffly. “You uh, goin' camping?” He snickered softly.
“Got a little wood, it happens,” Sam replied stiffly. He started to turn on his side facing away from Dean, but a warm hand caught his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about, getting all hard like that?” Dean murmured. He scootched a little closer, and Sam could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Some hot chick? Some hot guy? Some hot porno?”
“Nothing. None of the above. Leave me alone.” Sam gave a huffy sniff. The perfume from the rose petals was heavy in the air now, and their sweetness made Sam feel a little woozy. “What do you mean, 'a hot guy' anyway?”
Dean chuckled, a low, rich sound. “I've seen you checking guys out. You're subtle, Sammy, but I know all your tells. If you ain't been with a guy, you've sure thought about it.”
Sam gulped. What the fuck, were these rose petals getting him high? “Have you...been with a guy?”
Another low chuckle. “I have. Kinda miss the tits, but I do love me some dick, and a guy who knows how to use it.” The hand moved away from Sam's shoulder, and he had to stifle a gasp when he heard the distinctive sound of a hand moving against an erection. Dean continued, his voice a little hoarser, “A guy knows what a guy likes, and they're not too delicate like a chick can be sometimes.”
Sam's own hard-on was now at full mast, the bedspread no longer a pup tent but a circus top. Talking about sex with a naked Dean who was now jerking off just a couple of inches away, well, Sam's brain was getting pretty fried. His chest felt a little tight, and when he tried to casually slide his hand over it, his nipples were tight and hard against his palm. He had to bite his lip not to moan at the sharp pleasure of contact.
“Oh Sammy, you getting hot and bothered there? You like what I'm saying? Or the sound of my hand on my dick?” Dich brought his hand up and licked across the palm, his eyes boring into Sam's the whole time. The slapslap was even more distinct now, and Sam felt a little wet spot growing on the sheet stretched over his cock. “You gonna join me? I can tell you some bedtime stories, what it's like to give someone a good dicking, feel their tight little hole take your cock in, how hot it is inside, hotter 'n tighter than pussy.”
It was getting hard to breathe. Sam thought it must be the goddamn rose petals, their heavy scent filling his nose. His lungs were definitely working harder, pushing the thick air in and out.
“You hard, little brother? Bet you are, bet your cock is fat and huge under there. I can see the fuckin' blanket, dude, you got a tentpole there.” Dean was closer, his breath puffing on Sam's skin. “Wanna show me? I seen you naked before but never saw you hard. Let me see, c'mon, show me...”
Sam hurled the blanket off, sending rose petals flying through the air. He squeezed the base of his dick, hissing at the pleasure of his grip, watching pre-come swell up in his slit and slide down the veiny shaft. “God, Dean...” he croaked.
Dean whistled. “Shit, son! That's a goddamn boa constricter, a fuckin' anaconda!” Then he was rightthere, pressed up against Sam's side, all hot skin and an iron rod poking Sam's thigh. Sam gurgled unintelligibly, hips twisting for that pressure, seeking--
Dean's hand handed on Sam's hip, pulling him in tight and hard, his hips grinding. Their cocks collided, bumping clumsily until they fell into place, slotting against hip cuts and firm thighs to rut fiercely. Pre-come helped slick the way, but then Dean magically had a little bottle, and something cool and slippery oozed all over their dicks, took the intensity and ratcheted it up to holy shit.
The thick rose-scented air cloaked them, blanketed them in lust and fervor. Sam grasped at everything he could grab; Dean's meaty shoulder, his round ass, his spiky hair. Dean's hands reciprocated, running up and down Sam's back, lifting one thigh over his hip. Skin grew hot and sweaty. Breath exchanged with breath. Hips moved in rhythm together, pushing, urging, more, more moremore.
“Aahh!” yelled Sam, his hands clutching frenziedly on Dean's moist skin. His dick shot hot strands of come over Dean's soft belly.
“Fuck!” hollered Dean, likewise marking Sam with liberal spatters of white. They panted and pressed their bellies together, smearing each other with their sticky spend.
It took several minutes to unwind after that cataclysmic moment. Foreheads pressed together, still sharing breath, the brothers came down from their high. Skin cooled, breath slowed, until finally Dean pulled back a smidge and said, “So...”
Sam gave a half-smile. He could feel his cheeks were still flushed, but also that their shared come was cooling on their stomachs. “Guess we better, uh, clean up.”
“Yeah.”
More silence, and now Sam started feeling nervous again. What had they just done? What had he just done? “Uh, Dean...”
Soft lips brushed his, pressed against his forehead. “Shhh. Stop. Nothing to worry about here.” A finger lifted Sam's chin, and Dean's deep green eyes studied his. “Nothing happened here that I didn't want. And not in the 'good-time-of-the-week' way.” Dean tucked Sam into him, cradling Sam's head against his broad chest. “I never did anything because I never wanted to freak you out. If I lost you over something like this? Dude...” His words trailed off into a bitter chuckle. “It wasn't worth it. But now?”
“Now...we can have both.” Sam answered.
“We can have both.” Dean echoed.
Several more minutes of contented silence went by, until Dean stirred..
“Except...”
Sam froze. Except...when Dean wanted a girl? Except when... “What?”
“Can we get rid of all this fucking pink?”