Fic: Making Choices (part three) - Wincest - NC-17
Although every man believes that his decisions and resolutions involve the most multifarious factors, in reality they are mere oscillation between flight and longing ~Herman Broch
Early October 1997
Dean is 18
Harry is 17
Sam is 15
Dean watched Harry and Sam with a kind of amusement. It was pretty much the only form of entertainment that he had up here in this cabin. Dad had gotten word about a gun. A gun he said could kill anything. Anything was a whole lot of stuff in Dean’s book; vampires, werewolves, demons and ghosts and innumerable other things that he had been hunting with his dad. So, Dad had parked them here, in Southern Oregon, while he went looking for the gun.
Understanding why Dad did it didn’t make it easier to deal with. Dean would give anything to protect his family. Looking back out the window, Dean watched as Sam and Harry used magic to rake the leaves into piles and then explode them. It scared the crap out of the squirrels; Dean could see about five of them, chittering at the boys from here. Dad had pulled them out of school but both Sam and Harry were good at bookwork so they would be able to catch up again, soon enough. He had gotten certified to watch Sam and Harry practice. Apparently because he had taken an oath to protect Sam and Harry it gave him a special status in the magical world. Dean had managed to somehow graduate last June and he had been hunting with Dad fairly solid since then, except for one month in the summer that he had spent at Nana Bishee’s with Sam and Harry.
Harry and him had messed around a few more times but opportunities were few and very far between. Dean knew what he felt for Harry wasn’t right but Harry had tried to convince him it was okay. His eyes tracked his brothers as they ran in and out of exploding piles of colorful leaves. But no matter what, he knew what he felt for Sam was wrong. The two boys had come back from Nana Bishee’s closer than ever and Dean sometimes wondered if something had happened between the two of them.
However, on days like today, it was like the fox and the rabbit with one stalking the other. Dean could feel the tension in the air almost like a storm cloud on the horizon. Knowing that something would either be happening between the two of them soon or Harry would come and seek him out, made Dean wonder which would happen. He knew what he wanted to happen. Both Harry and Sam had a rough life so far and Dean, at this point, was all for grabbing happiness while he could. They would be good for each other, Dean thought. Sure the hell better than he was, for either of them.
Enough with the moping, Dean thought, and stood. Walking to the front door, he pushed it open. Yelling out brought both Harry and Sam’s attention to him and Dean motioned them both into the house. After washing up, everyone sat down at the table.
“Dad call today?” Sam asked.
“No, and I told you he was going to be out of range for a while,” Dean told him as he sat dinner down on the table. Roast with carrots and potatoes. There might have been more carrots and potatoes than roast but meat was expensive and he hadn’t had a chance to go out hunting yet. Sam and Harry both ate like it was going out of style, Dean too if he was honest, but he could count the ribs on both Harry and Sammy and it hurt him. They might be growing like weeds but they were his responsibility.
“When can we get back to school?” Harry asked and Dean wanted to pound his head on the table.
“I don’t know.” He tried not to snap but from the hurt look on Harry’s face, he hadn’t succeeded. “Come on,” Dean said as they all scraped their plates clean, “I’ll do dishes and you guys put the wards up. Not so sensitive this time, Sammy. They went off last night every time a squirrel went across them.”
Sam shared a look with Harry and they both laughed. Dean suspected that Sam had done it on purpose. He urged them outside so he could clean up. If they wanted to, they could’ve got the dishes done with magic before they went outside but Dean liked doing the dishes; it gave him time to think and plan.
Three weeks later and there was still no word from Dad. They had gotten a call from Uncle Bobby saying that Dad was on to something and they needed to stay put. Dean sighed. As best as he could tell, Sam and Harry still hadn’t done anything and Dean was ready to shoot someone. Sam and Harry shared a look that should have caught the room on fire and Dean wondered if he and Harry had been so oblivious to everything else around them.
Dean had a plan. He just hoped it would work. The way Sam and Harry were dancing around each other, he didn’t think it would take much to push them into bed together. “Sam,” Dean said after dinner. “Nana said you were to work on relaxation and you are as tense as a coiled spring. Harry, didn’t she show you some kind of massage that would open blocked magic channels or something?” Dean knew full well that she had; she had taught all of them the technique because there might come a time when their bodies was all they had left.
Sam tensed and Dean poked him. “See what I mean? I’m going to go out and see if I can scare us up some pheasant or, if we’re lucky, a deer.” Dean stood and, ignoring the looks that passed between Sam and Harry, got the gun and his hunting pack. “Back later, don’t wait up.” Dean walked out the door, across the yard and into the field beyond.
Getting out of sight of the house, he sat down and concentrated on Harry and Sam. Nana Bishee had taught him that as their guardian he had access to some of the magic that flowed around the two boys. If he concentrated in just the right way he could know what they were doing. It wasn’t like mind reading or even like he was a fly on the wall, it was more a general sort of knowledge. What condition they were in and if they were feeling strong emotions like fear or, in this case, lust.
Focusing in on Harry’s and Sam’s feelings was easy; interpreting them was a bit more difficult. Dean could tell Harry was upset and so was Sam, but gradually Sam’s changed to longing and lust. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine what was going on in the house behind him.
Sam, following his direction, would go and lie down on the couch before Harry suggested his bed would be more comfortable. Sam would sigh, because that’s all Sam did anymore, while getting up and then wander into his room. Harry would suggest that Sam remove his shirt, as it would make the massage that much easier. Sam might sigh again but there would be no reluctance to shed his shirt and perhaps unbutton his jeans, to get comfortable before he lay down. Dean did not let his mind dwell on the thought of Sammy splayed out on a bed in front of him.
He knew the moment that Harry put his hands on Sam because Sam’s feelings went through the roof. Dean lay back, cushioning his head with his pack, and unbuttoned his tight jeans. Rubbing at his hard cock through his underwear, he concentrated on what Sam and Harry were feeling. Harry would be rubbing Sam’s back and then the temptation to taste would be too much for him. Leaning down, he would press his lips into the curve of Sam’s spine.
Strong spikes of desire from Sam told Dean he was close if not right on the money about what was going on. Dean slid his hand inside his underwear and wrapped it around his cock. Slowly running it up and down, he concentrated on Harry and Sam again.
They must be kissing, Dean thought, from the emotions he was getting from both boys. Knowing from experience how good of a kisser Harry was, he wondered what Sam thought. Getting close to coming and knowing that Sam and Harry were almost there too was exciting. Then, as he gripped a little tighter around his hard cock, Sam and Harry came almost at the same time and it pushed Dean over the edge. It was like there was an explosion behind his eyes and he was with Harry and Sam.
They lay panting, Harry on top of Sam, his hand wrapped around both of their cocks now sticky with come. Sam opened his eyes and Dean had a double vision of Harry looking down at Sam and Sam looking up at Harry. They looked confused for a moment, then together they both said, “Dean?” and Dean was back in his own body, laying in the grass with his own hand covered with come. Fuck.
Standing up, Dean buttoned his pants. Wiping his hand on his jeans, he grabbed the pack and the gun and started walking towards the woods, away from Sam and Harry. He wasn’t thinking, not really. It was just he had said he was hunting and so he should be doing it, not jerking off to his brothers getting it on together. Faintly behind him he heard Harry holler his name but he kept walking. They needed food, they did. Never mind that he wasn’t in the right mind to go hunting.
He knew that Harry and Sam were back at the house talking about using their magic to find him, or come after him. Stopping for a moment, he used what control he had left and pushed a ‘no’ at them. He must have still had more of a connection than he wanted when he felt both Sam and Harry physically fall down. Pulling himself as together as he could, he slowed down, started paying attention to what was going on around him.
He was on the edge of the forest about a half a mile from the house and in the best position to try to get a deer. There was a salt lick nearby that Dad had pointed out to him before he left. Dean smothered feelings of annoyance at Dad and tried to calm himself so he could hunt. Slowing down, he started to walk softly and quietly, like Nana had shown him. He found a tree with a good view of the field and the verge with the salt lick. Leaning back, he rested the gun against his shoulder.
A doe stepped out with a fawn that was too young. If the winter was a hard one it was going to die. Dean let the doe and fawn eat then leave; Sam, Harry and him weren’t starving yet. Then he might consider taking a doe with young, but he wasn’t even sure of that. A young buck stepped into the dappled light, just as Dean was getting ready to pack up. A three point’er; not that big, but then they didn’t need big. They needed meat. Dean raised his gun and, picking a spot just behind the front leg, he pulled the trigger.
The deer reacted to the sound of the shot too late and got only a step before he collapsed. Dean raised the gun again as he walked up to the downed deer, ready to shoot it in the head if he needed to. It turned out to be unnecessary and he had killed it with his first shot. He had work to do before he could take the meat back.
He said thank you to the deer and the deer’s sprit as he had been taught by Nana, even if he thought it was stupid, before he grabbed a rope out of his pack. He tied it around the deer’s back feet and found a nearby branch to throw the rope over. He hauled the deer up by its feet and stopped when the carcass was off the ground.
Skinning and dressing the deer took longer than he expected; it was nearly dark when he was done. He wrapped the meat in some bags he had and the skin in a tarp he had in his pack and tied it all up so he could carry it. If he wanted it to be easy he only had to call to Sam or Harry and they would both be there in an instant, but this was something that Dean was proud he could do on his own.
He worked himself hard so that he wouldn’t remember how he had jacked off to the thought of Harry doing something to Sammy that he wanted to do so badly. It was wrong. He was just fucked up more than most people.
Heading back, he adjusted the pack on his back and slung the rifle over his shoulder. It was really late in the season but if he was lucky he would find some greens or maybe some late apples to cook with the meat. He saw that the moon was rising. He found some Chinquapin bushes that weren’t completely picked over. He grabbed a few handfuls of nuts and when he found an old apple tree, he pulled a bag out of his pocket; the fallen apples and nuts went into it. He really wanted some greens and while they were far enough south that the frost hadn’t yet set in, most of what was edible was already picked over.
He lucked out and near the apple tree was an old herb garden got wild. Gathering thyme and sage, he nearly cheered when he saw some lamb’s quarter and some chickweed. They would cook up like spinach and give all of them some much needed vitamins. Dean laughed as he crossed the wards, whomever had set them up had done a good job.
Sam met him at the door. He didn’t say anything, just looked at him.
“I need to do something with this meat,” Dean said. “Anyone hungry?” Harry’s stomach rumbled and they all laughed. It was kind of strained but it was laughter all the same. Handing Sam the bag with the greens, nuts, and apples in it, he told him to turn the oven on and roast the nuts.
Heading around back of the house, Dean found a good place to lay out the skin and the meat. “You know, we would have come and helped you,” Harry said, nearly startling him.
“I know,” Dean said, getting his knife out.
“Is this about earlier?” Harry asked, obviously not picking up on Dean’s ‘leave me alone’ vibe.
“No.” He cut a good size roast from the hindquarters. Setting it to the side, he sat back and looked up at Harry. “You wanna help?”
When Harry nodded, Dean motioned to the meat in front of him. With a few deft flicks of his wand, Harry had most of the meat off the bones and wrapped in the sealable plastic bags from the house. Dean stood, gathering the smaller bones for stew and soup and taking everything inside. When he came back out, Harry had hung the skin high out of reach of predators and banished the larger bones.
“Thanks,” he said.
“We wouldn’t mind if you joined us,” Harry said and Dean looked him in the eyes.
“What?”
“Well, you were looking in on us, so we talked about it and decided that if you wanted to, we would love it if you joined us in person.” Harry explained calmly like he wasn’t discussing Dean having sex with Harry and Sam.
“I was just checking on you two, that was all,” Dean snapped and turned to go inside.
Harry threw the parting shot. “Lie to yourself then.” Dean paused with his hand on the door before turning the handle and walking in. He heard Harry sigh behind him.
Sam was pulling the nuts from the oven, the toasted smell filling the kitchen. Dean grunted his approval as he moved to put a skillet on the stove. Turning the oven up, he got out the roasting pan. Onions, apples, carrots all went in and the roast was browned in the skillet before he put it in the pan. Covering it, he put pan in the oven.
Meanwhile, Sam had found the lamb’s quarter and the chickweed. Making a face, he none the less took it to the sink to wash. It would go on just before the roast was done and they had an hour or so. Sam still hadn’t spoken to him when Dean sat down and started chopping the nuts as Sam shelled them.
“We were worried.” Sam spoke to the bowl in his lap and not to Dean.
“I’m a big boy. I’m fine.”
“But . . . I felt . . . we felt . . . You were with us. You know.” It was mostly accusation.
“I was just checking on you and got caught up. It won’t happen again,” Dean said. “It’s okay,” he added a little more gently, remembering the horrible guilt he felt after being with Harry.
Sam slammed the bowl down on the table. “It’s not me that has a problem,” he said and got up.
“Sammy,” Dean said.
“Don’t.” Sam stood up and the chair clattered to the floor with a bang. Dean flinched. “Don’t treat me like I’m a little kid who doesn’t know what he wants. I know, Dean.”
Dean shook his head and Sam slammed out of the house. Harry came in, setting the chair up before clapping and Dean turned away from him. “Well done,” Harry said.
“Don’t you start,” Dean said.
“You know I was as old as him the first time we . . .” Harry started before Dean interrupted him with a voice full of guilt.
“I know.”
“Dean,” Harry said quietly. “Do you think I was wrong? That I shouldn’t have? Is that the problem?”
“No, no.” Dean sighed and got up to check on the roast, avoiding looking at Harry. “I wanted . . . you both needed . . .” He couldn’t finish a sentence.
Harry was standing right behind him when he stood up. “What did we need, Dean? A fuck?”
Dean’s breath caught. He hadn’t been this close to Harry in a while. The memory of what Harry and Sam had been doing came to him in a flash and he was instantly hard. God, why did everything have to be so screwed up?
Raising his hand, Harry touched Dean’s face. “It doesn’t have to be,” he said and Dean, realizing he had spoken out loud, snorted.
“For you,” Dean replied quietly.
“What do you think of me? That I’m some kind of slut just jumping from bed to bed, not caring? This is important to me. You are important. Sam is important. Gah!” Harry backed off and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
Dean went to wash some of the dishes and make sure the greens were ready to go on the stove in a while. Harry, taking a last look at Dean, walked out the door after Sam.
Gathering the ground nuts, Dean mixed up some biscuits and tossed the nuts in the batter; they would cook while the roast was setting. Finally there was nothing else to do, and Dean went and sat at the table. He wasn’t used to being terribly introspective; he tended to look outwards instead of inwards because he was always disappointed with himself. He was weak. He needed to be strong. Strong to protect Harry and Sam and strong enough to give up what he wanted for what was best.
Dean sat, lost in thought for a while, before he shook himself out of his reverie. The meat had been a tender cut, so he didn’t need to cook it for that long. Checking the roast, he figured he had a few minutes so he tore the greens up and put them in a pan with a little salt and a little water. Setting the pan on to boil, he pulled the roast out and checked the temperature. One hundred and thirty degrees, perfect. He took the roast out of the pan and set it on the cutting board. He would let it sit while he cooked the biscuits.
Feeling the wards go off, he looked outside and didn’t see anyone or hear a vehicle. Shrugging, he just figured it was again extra sensitive. He was just pulling the biscuits out of the oven when Sam and Harry came in the door. “Wash up,” Dean said and Harry cleared his throat. Dean looked up and saw a ranger. Oh fuck.
Putting the biscuits down, he wiped his hands on his pants before holding one out to the ranger. “Can we help you, Ranger . . .?”
“Jackson,” the man offered, which Dean found promising.
“Ranger Jackson,” Dean said.
“Your folks around?”
Dean shook his head. “Mom’s dead, Dad drives truck. We came up here for a little vacation but Dad got called into work.” Dean used the normal excuse. Glancing up, he saw Harry with his wand out, pointing at the man. Dean shook his head. No magic unless they couldn’t avoid it.
The ranger flipped a book open. “There was a deer taken about a mile over yonder as the crow flies and I was just wondering if you boys have seen anyone lurking about?”
Dean pointedly didn’t look at the roast on the counter. “No sir,” he said. “Been having problems?”
Ranger Jackson seemed to consider his question. “Not so as you say, no.”
Dean knew an evasion when he heard one. “Do I need to keep a closer eye on my brothers, sir?” Dean ignored the sounds that Harry and Sam made.
Jackson nodded. “Some hikers went missing just over the ridge from here.” He pointed in the opposite direction that Dean had been.
“Did you want me to send my Dad down to the Ranger station when he gets here?” Dean asked.
“Nah, just make sure you tell him to keep an eye out. If . . .” here it comes, thought Dean, “you give me some of that wonderful roast I smell.”
Dean sighed. It was better than he had hoped. At least he didn’t need to try and pedal his ass to this guy. He had done it before to keep Sam and Harry safe but he had never had to do it in front of them and he was glad he didn’t have to this time. Motioning Sam and Harry to sit down, he put the greens and the biscuits on the table. Slicing the roast, he put it and some of the carrots and onions on the serving platter.
They ate, the ranger getting most of the meat but he didn’t seem to want the greens, which made Dean extraordinarily grateful. Afterwards, Dean walked the man outside, around the side of the house that didn’t have a deer skin hanging near it. Dean was hoping it had been dark enough when the guy had showed up that he hadn’t seen it.
“You boys seem to be in a little trouble,” Jackson said and Dean flinched on the inside.
“No sir, we’re good.”
“Poaching’s against the law,” he said and Dean’s stomach fell to his shoes.
“Yes, sir, it is,” Dean said, still trying to bluff his way out of this mess.
“I might forget I saw you all here with your deerskin hanging in the tree if . . .” The man’s voice lowered.
“If?” Dean asked, some part of him hopeful that this could be solved some other way than what he was thinking.
“You give me a taste of that sweet ass of yours. You were wagging it around at me like you wanted something.” He reached down and grabbed his cock.
“Fine,” Dean said quickly, wanting nothing more than for this guy to leave. “But not here. My brothers wouldn’t understand.”
The man grinned in victory. “My truck is just round the bend there.” He pointed down the driveway. “Meet me there in five minutes or I leave and come back with the sheriff. I think those brothers of yours could end up in foster homes.”
Dean nodded abruptly. The guy didn’t have to go and threaten Sam and Harry. Turning away, he walked back into the house, hoping his acting skills were up to the test.
Sam stood just inside the doorway, staring at him. “I got to go and see if I can’t help Ranger Jackson spot the poacher.” Dean sighed like he was being put upon. “Take the damn skin down while I’m gone, and both of you stay here.”
Harry started to say something but Sam shook his head and he stopped. Dean grabbed condoms and some lube from his bedside table. The condom was a no brainer and hopefully the guy would use some lube. He shoved the stuff in his jacket pocket before putting it on and heading out the door.
His stomach was twisting in knots as he walked down the drive. Giving a rock a kick, he looked back at the house and couldn’t see the skin or the boys. That was a relief, anyway. He stepped up to the guy’s truck and the passenger door was pushed open. Dean climbed in.
The ranger grinned at him, his cock already out and hard Dean saw by the interior light. Dean repressed a sigh and leaned down to give the guy head. Maybe he’d be satisfied with that. It wasn’t long before the guy was coming, bitter tasting in his mouth. Harry never tasted bad; this guy was horrid. Dean swallowed and prayed it would stay down.
Shoving his hands down Dean’s pants, the guy started rubbing Dean’s cock. It always humiliated him how his body would just react to things. Like a strange man’s hands on his cock. “Get these jean’s off, boy. I want a piece of that ass,” the ranger said. Dean was kind of surprised that the ranger had gotten halfway hard again. Then again it probably wasn’t that often he got to have what he wanted now.
Dean shimmied out of his pants and underwear, leaving them in a bunch on the floor. He snagged the condom and lube. Handing them to the ranger, he was relieved to see him put on the condom but he tossed the lube out the window and told Dean to put his ass in the air. Flinching at the thought of being taken dry, he propped himself up on the seat. He could feel the guy’s eyes roving over his ass before he reached out and touched Dean. Dean whimpered at the thought of the pain to come.
Then the truck door was pulled open in front of him and for one horrifying moment Dean thought it was Dad. It was Sam with his wand out. “Get off of my brother,” Sam said and Dean was a bit impressed with just how much threat he had in his voice.
“Or what, boy? You gonna poke me with your stick?”
If Dean hadn’t been in such an embarrassing position, he would have enjoyed the guy getting hit with a sleep charm. As it was, he was now laying underneath an unconscious ranger.
“Damn it, Sam, I was handling it.”
“Yeah, we saw that,” Harry said as he opened the other door and dragged the guy off of Dean. “What . . . why?” Harry couldn’t seem to figure out how to phrase his question.
“It’s my job to take care of you,” Dean said, snagging his pants off the floor of the truck before getting out and putting them on.
“You take care of us by fucking some random guy and not me?” Sam asked angrily.
“No. Yes. Fuck, Sam. What kind of question is that?”
“A valid one, going off of what we just saw,” Harry said, pushing the ranger over so he could do up his pants. Dean watched as Harry cast a memory charm on the guy and then revived him.
“Wow! You’re lucky you didn’t crash,” Harry said, wide-eyed. “It was a good thing you stopped. Thanks for all your help, Ranger Jackson. We’ll call you if we see any sign of that poacher again.” Dean watched as the guy fell for Harry’s wide-eyed and innocent look.
Ranger Jackson stared at Harry for a moment before shaking his head. “Sure, no problem, kid,” he said, putting his hand up to his head. He looked at Sam and Dean with no recognition in his eyes. Dean nodded at the guy before they turned to go back to the cabin. Listening for the ranger to drive off, Dean turned to Harry and Sam after they were sure he was gone.
He was embarrassed, which made him livid. “What the fuck is wrong with you both? You want to have your wands broken? I was dealing with it.”
“What the fuck is wrong with us?” Sam asked, getting in Dean’s face. “You can stand there and ask me that? It’s not okay. Not even close. How many times?”
Dean stood there surprised as hell at Sam’s anger. “We were taught not to use magic around those who can’t. Nana told me, told us, to figure out another way.”
“But, Dean,” Harry spoke up, “self defense is permitted and defending our guardian.”
Dean’s head snapped around and he glared at Harry.
“Well, it is,” Harry said. “You need to be here to protect us. We get to protect you, too.”
“I’m the oldest. I’m the guardian. I should protect you. I was doing that.” Now he knew he just sounded petulant but, damn it, it wasn’t their decision to make.
Sam looked so sad that Dean wanted to go to him. Harry stepped up and wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist. “But what if something happened to you?” Sam asked the ground because he wasn’t looking at Dean. “What would we do then? I need you. We need you.” There were tears in Sam’s voice.
Sam didn’t wait for Dean to answer him. He just turned and headed back for the house. Harry looked at Dean for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face.
“You . . . fuck it,” Harry said and turned to follow Sam.
Dean didn’t see what he’d done that was so bad. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been protecting Sammy his entire life or Harry, too, since they had met. What the hell did they expect him to do? The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He stomped back to the house, letting the door slam behind him as he looked for Sam and Harry.
Sam was standing at the sink rinsing and Harry was washing the dishes. “Listen,” Dean said.
Sam dropped the fork he was rinsing into the sink with a clatter. “Don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say,” Sam snapped.
“Fine, fuck you anyway,” Dean said, swallowing his apology. He walked to his room and slammed the door. He felt juvenile, but it made things a little better. He calmed himself down just as there was a knock on his door.
“Yeah,” he called out.
Sam cracked the door open. “Wards are up.” Dean was surprised when Sam came in and shut the door behind him. “How many times?”
Dean didn’t have to ask what Sam was asking about. “A few,” he said reluctantly.
“Why?”
Why what? Dean wondered. He just looked at Sam.
“Why them?”
Dean sighed. “Because.”
“Why not me?”
Great, now he was confusing sex with love. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t . . . I never . . . it wasn’t like I wanted to,” he finally said, hoping like hell Sam would understand him.
Sam moved closer, getting in Dean’s space. “So you want to? With me?”
Damn. Sam understood too well. Dean looked into Sam’s eyes, read the pain and longing there, and it nearly broke him. Raising his hand, he brushed his fingers along Sam’s jaw. Sam’s eyes closed as Dean’s thumb passed over his lips. Leaning in, Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s, kissing him gently. Sam parted his lips and Dean dipped his tongue for a taste before pulling back.
Sam’s eyes flickered open. Dean could see the question in them, the same question he had asked before. Did Dean want to be with him? Dean wished more than anything that he didn’t, that he could make his feelings go away, that he could be normal. Dean’s hand shook as he slid it into Sam’s hair and pulled him close again for another kiss.
Groaning, Sam leaned into him and Dean became aware of his hard on that was pressing against his brother. Reaching down, Dean rubbed his hand against Sam’s dick through his jeans. Sam popped the top button on his pants and Dean shoved his hand down them. Wrapping his hand around Sam’s cock, Dean felt like he was having an out-of-body experience.
“Dean,” Sam moaned and Dean jerked him off a little harder.
Sam’s sweaty forehead pressed against Dean’s neck and Dean squeezed Sam’s cock just as the wards went off.
“Fuck, Dad,” Dean said, recognizing the particular alarm they had for dad, and started to pull back from Sam.
“Please,” Sam begged and held onto Dean’s arm. Knowing that with every moment that passed Dad was that much closer to them, Dean pressed Sam against the wall, capturing his lips as his hand stroked Sam’s cock, determined to get him off before Dad caught them.
Sam whimpered and Dean knew he was close.
“Come on, Sammy, come for me,” Dean whispered in his ear and Sam’s hips jerked forward and he was coming. Thick white strands of goo splattered Sam and Dean’s shirt and hand. Dean kissed him again. “That’s my boy,” he said against Sam’s mouth and Sam pushed him off.
“Dean, it's Sam” he whined.
“Come on, clean us up.” Dean motioned to the mess on his shirt. Sam gave him a half grin and, holding up Dean’s hand, he sucked a finger into his mouth. Dean groaned.
“Damn it,” Dean said and handed Sam his wand. He adjusted his hard on in his pants as Sam did a cleaning spell over the both of them.
“Boys?” Dad yelled as he slammed the door on the truck having left the Impala for Dean to go to town with.
Dean let Sam go greet their father while he thought of disgusting things to make his hard on go away.
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