Civilized
Title: Civilized
Companion story for
brighteyed_jill's story The Secret's In the Telling.
Rating: NC-17 for hardcore M/M sex.
Fandom: Heroes/Supernatural crossover
Pairing: This story specifically, Nathan/Sam, Dean/Sam, implied Petrellicest, implied other/sex
Genre: Romance (and sex)
Spoilers: General for both Supernatural and Heroes, no specific spoilers.
Summary: When their brothers instruct them to "have fun," Nathan and Sam decide to be civilized about it.
Word Count: 3,726
A few months back my sister BrightEyed-Jill finished a five-part Heroes/Supernatural crossover story called The Secret's In The Telling. It had a clever plot, some great angst, some sleuthing, good incorporation of both worlds, some great violence, and yeah, some hot sex. I highly recommend you go over and read it before you read my story, because while most of it will make sense, some bits of it might be a tad confusing otherwise. Please read and enjoy, and do review to let me know what you liked, didn't like, or what could be made better. (And review The Secret's In The Telling too, my sister loves detailed reviews!)
The following is SPOILERS for those that haven't read The Secret's In The Telling yet.
Ok, so for those that have read BrightEyed-Jill's story, bascially when it got done, I was like, "Dudette, you had the hot Dean/Peter sex, so where's the Nathan/Sam sex? I bet it would be all civilized and stuff." And she was like, "I do evil!dysfuntional!sex." And I'm like, "I can do civilized!sex. Maybe I'll write that "missing" Nathan/Sam scene." And she was like, "Well, maybe you should." And so I did.
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Sam could remember the last time he’d been at a nice restaurant. It had been back in college, with Jessica’s parents taking them out for a combination congratulations-on-surviving-the-first-year-of-law-school and inspect-their-daughter’s-boyfriend dinner. Sam had remembered feeling incredibly awkward, hoping he’d remember real manners and not what passed for protocol at a diner, hoping he’d say the right things to impress Jessica’s parents, and also hoping that Jessica would appreciate him doing this.
Or, “Be clean, be smooth, and be laid,” as Dean would put it.
Now Sam was on his best behavior, and unsuccessfully trying to put Dean’s advice out of his head. It wasn’t working very well. Not that he wasn’t enjoying Nathan’s company and conversation, because he was, but Dean has the annoying habit of being the devil on Sam’s shoulder sometimes. Nathan seemed to have noticed Sam’s occasional wavering attention, and checked his watch surreptitiously.
“Worried about your brother?” he asked.
“Ah, no, no. I mean, he can take care of himself,” Sam said casually, managing to keep himself from adding “And Peter.”
“I’m sure,” Nathan said dryly, taking a thoughtful bite of his steak.
Sam did a quick mental calculation and realized they’d been together almost two hours. By this time, Sam was sure, Dean and Peter had probably managed to destroy several pieces of furniture.
“Are you tempted to ignore those two just because they think they know what’s best for us?” Sam asked.
Nathan’s mouth twitched slightly as he tried to keep his expression still, and Sam realized that there was something in his jaw, the stubborn set of it, that reminded him of Dean.
“When Peter actually gives me good advice, I tend to follow it,” Nathan replied. “Because it’s usually a rarity.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You can have the couch. You lost the toss,” Nathan was saying over his shoulder, acting as it were part of a prior conversation.
Nathan had insisted on a proper hotel, not a motel or motor lodge. And getting a single room in said hotel for two men without arousing suspicion that neither wanted to deal with meant a little verbal maneuvering. Sam had been only mildly bewildered when Nathan stepped up to the impressive lobby desk and got a suite for the night, easily feigning that they were business associates whose company would only pay for one room. So why not make it a suite? Nathan had said, giving the clerk a little chuckle at the way he was milking his cheapskate employer. Quickly Nathan plunked down one of Sam’s credit cards (Nathan had paid for the meal, so Sam only thought it was fair for him to pay for the room) and got the keys to their room: a suite with a king-size bed and a hot tub.
“Subtle,” Sam said, as they walked down the hallway.
“It was the only one they had left,” Nathan said with dignity. Sam didn’t deign to comment on that. He also didn’t want to deign to acknowledge a nagging memory of a whisky-sweet kiss and a firm hand on the back of his neck. Except he did. Badly.
Sam had resisted the pull tonight out of reflex, putting that night a few weeks ago out of his mind, concentrating instead of one of the first conversations he’d had in years that didn’t involve supernatural horror, lying about being a government agent or police officer, or stuff about his family. At dinner, they’d talked amicably about genealogies in general, and then got into places they’d traveled, all the while managing to keep their “day jobs” out of it. It had been a normal, pleasant, relaxing conversation. It would have been more so if Sam hadn’t kept catching Nathan looking at him speculatively.
-------------------
“Dude, stop looking at me like that!” Dean growled, throwing the Impala into reverse to head back down the road to the cemetery.
“Like what?”
“With those damn puppy eyes! You look like if I didn’t go back to check that stupid grave you’d just start whimpering or something,” Dean said, dropping his foot harder on the gas as he spun the wheel around and shifted into drive.
Sam thought about that for a second. He could usually convince Dean to do something if he tried hard enough, but puppy eyes? Heart-melting puppy eyes, really? He looked sideways at Dean. Double-checking the cemetery was mostly caution on his part. They had two hours until midnight; it could wait. He whimpered.
“That’s it!” With that, Dean pulled the Impala over and hauled Sam to his side of the car.
-------------------------------
Nathan opened the door and waved for Sam to precede him. As rooms went, this was nearly palatial, at least in comparison to the roach-infested motels that were Sam’s usual abode. Here he didn’t feel he needed to worry about putting things on the carpet, for fear they might pick up a disease.
Sam tossed his bags on the floor as Nathan quietly closed the door. It was getting close to midnight, and Sam couldn’t quite get out of his head what his brother was probably getting up to. He’d been half-serious when he’d suggested not letting their brothers dictate what him and Nathan should do with their night off.
You’re about as half-serious as your own dick right now, Sam told himself sternly, keeping his back to Nathan for the time being. Though Nathan had carefully kept both himself and Sam to only two glasses of very excellent wine, there was enough in his system to where his body wasn’t listening to reason very well. His trousers had a decidedly interrupted flow at the groin area.
“I was serious about Pete’s advice,” Nathan said calmly from behind Sam. “He’s a good kid, but usually he doesn’t always plan ahead. He charges in, I follow up with a plan.”
“Sounds like me and Dean,” Sam said, surreptitiously trying to take some calming breaths. “Most of the time, at least.”
----------------------------
“I saw you with that girl.”
Dean only smirked, lacing his hands behind his head with a satisfied air as he leaned against the headboard. At eighteen Dean could pass for twenty-one, at least with a fake ID and a dash of charm. He’d taken home some girl from a bar down the road from the motel, and hadn’t seemed particularly ashamed that Sam had caught him doing Sherri? Starla? in the backseat of the Impala.
“So? Dad’s still staking out that nest with Bobby; he won’t be back for a while.”
“I’m not talking about Dad catching you!” Sam said, bristling with anger from his perch on the other bed. Dean looked over at him, trying to figure out what Sammy’s problem was. It wasn’t like this was the first time Dean had brought a girl “home.” Nor the second. Or the tenth.
“What’s your problem? You want to go with me next time?” Dean asked in exasperation. Sammy was already as tall as Dean, and plus some, but didn’t quite have the right swagger (or stubble) to get into Dean’s favorite bars.
“I-,” Sam broke off. He’d been with a few girls before; high school girls from the towns they’d stayed in for a while. But all too often it ended in a very unsatisfying awkward tangle of sweaty limbs. Trying to match the escapades Dean told him about (and those few he’d spied on) always ended in failure, and he was sick of it.
“What?” Dean repeated more forcefully, raising himself on his elbow.
“I don’t know what to do!” Sam burst out, thumping his fist on the bed. His face was flushed bright red, and he tried to keep one hand over his groin. Remembering what Dean had done with the brunette last night had Sam painfully hard, in front of his brother no less, and that wasn’t making his confession any easier.
“Do what?” Dean asked again, eyes seemingly skimming over Sam’s denim-covered crotch.
“What you do! I don’t know how to kiss them… or anything. Not like you,” Sam said, tightening his fist on the bed cover.
Dean’s own hand mimicked Sam’s on the tacky bedspread, clutching it hard enough to whiten his knuckles. It was Dean’s task to take care of his brother: everything from making sure he did his homework and got food, to keeping him safe and showing him the ropes. He’d sort of hoped Sammy wouldn’t need explicit instructions in sex, other than the “use a condom” lecture, but that was apparently futile.
Dean’s own face felt hot when he realized Sammy had been watching his conquests, probably for quite a while. He didn’t consider himself an exhibitionist, but he found that he didn’t exactly mind that Sammy had watched. Actually, he sort of liked the idea. It was a very, very bad idea, but he liked it anyway.
“Well then, I guess I’ll have to show you,” Dean said, making his voice as reasonable as possible.
“Show me, how?”
“If you want to know how to make-out with a chick, then you’re gonna have to practice. So practice on me.” Dean shook his head. Little brothers…
“But, but, we’re brothers! That’s just weird!” Sam protested, trying to put some appropriate indignation into the words. It ended up sounding more pleading than anything else, and set him blushing even harder.
“You see any chicks around to practice on? You want me with you giving tips when you’re with a girl?”
“Uh…” Sam’s blushing was reaching terminal levels, and Dean could see he was losing the battle to keep himself contained. Dean wasn’t in any better state, remembering the stain he’d cleaned off the Impala’s back door after Sherrie had left. Little Sammy had watched him with her, little Sammy with his hand around his cock, jerking off to Sherrie’s moans under Dean’s thrusts…
“I’m not gonna tell anyone Sammy,” Dean said. “It’ll just be between you and me.”
Sam was wavering, shame and humiliation balanced against hormones.
And in a fourteen-year-old boy, hormones always won.
Sam stood up and crossed to Dean’s bed, sitting down and licking his lips nervously.
Dean was a little shocked at the shiver of lust that went through him when Sammy did that.
“Just do what you want Sammy. Anything you want. I’ll show you everything.”
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“So, you’re not given to impulsive behavior?” Nathan asked quietly.
“I’m the researcher.” Sam shrugged, trying to shake off the memory. “I set up the pins, and then I help Dean knock them down.”
“You prefer things more civilized,” Nathan stated. His voice was calm, far too calm, and Sam turned to look at him. Nathan had carefully loosened his tie, revealing a slice of muscled chest below, and seemed to look down at him through hooded eyes. The intensity of his stare, the command in those eyes, was enough to increase Sam’s trouser problem fivefold.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Nathan said. He turned to go, tie coming off, and paused in the doorway to the bathroom. “Would you care to join me, Sam?”
The invitation sounded so formal that Sam almost laughed, but when Nathan casually slipped off his jacket and shirt, the laughter died. Nathan was easily as firmly muscled as Dean, something Sam wouldn’t have expected from Nathan’s lawyer-like demeanor. He looked smooth and clean, neat and tight, well cared-for. No heavy scars from blades or bullets, claws or fangs, other than the fading lines from that ritual, no grit from unburned gunpowder. He looked… safe; safe in a way that meant Sam could let himself go.
“Yeah.” Sam slowly started divesting himself of his clothes, pausing with Nathan to put them away. It was so weird, because with Dean there sometimes wasn’t enough time to get clothes off, let alone folded, before sex ensued. Dean was all right here, right now, hammer and tongs, all irons in the fire. Nathan seemed to enjoy the anticipation and build-up, being patient, drawing it out. And Sam figured he could get used to that in a hurry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nathan dialed the shower up to hot as Sam quickly put his shoes away. He’d had no idea, other than that brief grope during their drunken kiss a while back, that Sam was so… ripped. Big and solid, definitely. Wide shoulders, strong jaw, yes. But seeing what was underneath the suit was a definite surprise.
Peter’s appearance of frailty, his slim frame and pale skin, had always reinforced Nathan’s built-in drive not to hurt him, no matter what Peter said he needed. He knew, intellectually, that Peter was almost impossible to harm, but he couldn’t get it past his emotional block. Sam’s scars told a different story. He was a survivor of a hundred fights, and had the evidence to prove it.
Nathan knew he and Peter had a slightly unhealthy relationship, even beyond the fact that they were brothers. Their love was too strong, and it made them a little crazy about the other. Nathan had given up his wife and children, his career in politics, his entire life, because Peter needed him. He went half-insane when people threatened Peter, and it was going to kill him one day. It was as Friar Lawrence had warned Romeo, “Love moderately. These violent delights have violent ends.”
But with Sam there wasn’t that intense tangle of guilt and shared destiny; he was clean and safe. There were only some mutual desires that needed to be taken care of. Right now.
Nathan stepped into the shower, letting the heat soak through him, feeling the blood rush to his groin as he heard Sam step in behind him. Whenever this happened with Peter, there was a mingling of shame, guilt, and powerful desire, but it did not bother him one iota to let Sam know how much he wanted him. He wasn’t feeling guilty at all, and that was something very new, at least for Nathan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam paused halfway into the shower, watching the water pour over Nathan’s body. Nathan turned, seeming to sense Sam’s hesitation, and jerked his head. Sam quickly stepped in, and was enveloped by the wet heat. Nathan was nearly staring him down, hooded eyes roaming over him in definite appreciation, and he nodded, looking satisfied. Sam supposed he could have felt like he was a piece of meat Nathan was picking out for dinner, if Nathan’s cock hadn’t been jutting out so far, hard and red and straining towards Sam.
Sam knew Dean wouldn’t ever hurt him, and even during the times when Dean was on top, Sam was always in control. He topped from the bottom, sex being one of those times where he could override Dean’s impulse to have his own way. Dean even seemed to like it that way, getting plenty of his own pleasure in sucking Sam off. But now Sam was seeing things from a different angle. Even though he was taller than Nathan by at least half a foot, Nathan was clearly in charge.
So when Nathan reached up and wrapped a strong, uncalloused hand around the back of Sam’s neck to draw him down for a kiss, Sam let himself sink into it. Sam usually led; after Dean had taught him, Sam was the one that dominated their kisses. But here, Nathan’s mouth was firm and demanding, meeting Sam’s strength on his own terms, and then conquering it.
Nathan took command of him like a general marshalling his troops, pressing their chests together to a surprised gasp from Sam, the hot water seeming to make his skin more sensitive. A hot hardness pressing into his thigh made him moan, and Nathan’s tongue invaded deeper. A firm hand on his ass, fingers pressing in low and deep, nearly turned Sam’s knees to jelly. Slowly, Sam let himself sink to his knees, breaking off the kiss, until the water poured on his head, the spray illuminating an aura of light around Nathan.
From here, Nathan looked ten feet tall, and Sam felt strangely small. Nathan’s hand was in Sam’s wet hair, not stroking like a pet, or pulling insistently, just a firm grip to position Sam right in front of Nathan’s cock. Sam didn’t need any more prompting after that, and opened his mouth and throat wide to swallow Nathan whole.
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Nathan knew his grip on Sam’s hair got painful when he felt Sam’s head jerk on him, but couldn’t quite help it. The boy had a wide mouth, and Nathan hadn’t realized he was so experienced. In a single go, Sam was holding all of him, something Peter hadn’t been able to do without a lot of practice. So despite the discomfort it must be causing him, Nathan held onto Sam hard.
“Good,” he murmured above the crashing of the water. “Very good Sam.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam held Nathan in his mouth, breathing carefully through his nose, feeling the twitch and pulse of him echoed in his own cock. He didn’t move, not with his hair being held hostage, but grinned mentally. He liked what was going on, but Nathan had to realize Sam wasn’t exactly a virgin when it came to this sort of thing.
Nathan held himself there for several long breaths, and then slowly pulled out of Sam’s mouth. Sam didn’t chase after him, but he did slowly tickle the underside of Nathan’s cock with his tongue as it left him. The tiny stabs of pain as Nathan’s hand convulsively pulled on his hair meant Sam was leaving an impression.
As Sam unfolded himself from the shower, Nathan freed his hair and tugged Sam to his feet. Capturing Sam in a hard kiss was easy, but Sam grabbed for the wall when Nathan’s hand closed around cock. A few languid pulls, with the thumb circling the top, and Sam found he was riding the edge. Nathan could feel the harsh breathing in his mouth, and nibbled slightly on Sam’s lip, making him hiss.
Nathan’s hand left Sam and turned off the water before Sam could think to protest.
“I have more planned,” Nathan said simply, and grabbed a towel for Sam to dry off.
How he managed to get from bathroom to bed in two-point-five seconds while not giving himself rugburn from the rapid drying was something Sam was never able to figure out afterward. How Nathan got there before him was just a flat-out mystery. How he got the sheets turned down, fresh towels in place, and the lube and condoms out in that time was an impossibility Sam didn’t care to contemplate.
Putting his smooth hands up on Sam’s broad shoulders, Nathan pushed him down into the bed in a single, swift motion.
“All right?” Nathan asked, casually snapping open a bottle of lube, squirting out a liberal amount on one hand.
“Yeah,” Sam said, and put his knees up, opening himself. There was a depth of assurance in Nathan’s acts, no hesitancy or doubt, a complete confidence in himself and his abilities that Sam wanted to be a part of.
Nathan rose and knelt between Sam’s thighs, nudging at his hips until his raised them, fitting pillows underneath to give him easy access. Running one hand down Sam’s inner thigh, Nathan’s hand skimmed up over his balls and slid over his lower belly. Sam’s erection was growing almost painfully urgent.
“You want something?” Nathan asked him, suddenly sliding one slick finger against Sam’s ass.
Sam gasped and his cock jumped. He bit back a moan and closed his eyes momentarily. Nathan was relentless, slowly, carefully pushing in, pausing to let Sam adjust, then going farther. Sam was reduced to incoherence as Nathan’s fingers eased in, one at a time, two, and then three, twisting, scissoring, slick and warm and fantastic, slowly learning which spots made Sam twitch.
His breath coming in ragged pants, cock straining for release, Sam grabbed for his own member, needing to take the edge off. Nathan knocked his hand away with practiced ease.
“Not until I say so,” he commanded, and slowly withdrew his fingers. Sam nearly screamed at that, until Nathan leaned over him, chest bumping Sam’s cock, to talk directly in his ear.
“What do you need?”
“Fuck meeeee,” Sam gasped, the last word drawing out into a wail as Nathan’s thick, covered cock slid into him, opening him easily, splitting him with a delicious ache. Moaning again, Sam bucked his hips, trying to get more friction, but Nathan went still, one hand pressing against Sam’s stomach in warning not to move.
Slowly, he withdrew and slid in again, going deeper and deeper with each thrust, until he bumped against one spot that nearly sent Sam soaring, a choked-off scream warning Nathan how close he was.
“Now,” Nathan growled, nearly in his ear, and Sam’s hand grabbed for his cock, needing the release that Nathan was torturously denying him. Even as his hand closed on it, he felt Nathan’s hand entwined with it, and both of them had a hand around Sam’s twitching dick.
“With me,” Nathan said, and thrust in deep with his hips, squeezing hard with his hand at the same time. Sam soon picked up the rhythm, helping Nathan find the best leverage, bucking his hips up to meet him, clenching Nathan’s hand as hard as he could to show him his favorite speed, gasping when Nathan would add random squeezes to draw it out.
Nathan held Sam’s hand like a lifeline as he reveled in the feeling of Sam thrashing and moaning under him. Held together, both men straining for mutual release, Nathan locked eyes with Sam, every muscle tight, commanding him wordlessly to hold on just one more second… Then everything exploded, Nathan cumming deep within Sam, Sam splattering their hands as gasping breaths of ecstasy filled the room.
Sam sagged in Nathan’s grasp as they both returned to themselves, finally unlocking their hands, pulling apart from each other, stretching to relax muscles knotted from orgasm. Nathan stood up, an air of victory about him, as Sam lay there like one dead.
“So, I’d say your impulse control is very good,” Nathan said casually. Sam started laughing, throwing his head back into the pillows and laughing so hard that everyone in the hotel must have been able to hear him.
“Yeah. I suppose it is,” he replied, lacing his hands under his head.
“It’s always better to be civilized about it.” And Nathan smiled broadly.
Companion story for
brighteyed_jill's story The Secret's In the Telling.
Rating: NC-17 for hardcore M/M sex.
Fandom: Heroes/Supernatural crossover
Pairing: This story specifically, Nathan/Sam, Dean/Sam, implied Petrellicest, implied other/sex
Genre: Romance (and sex)
Spoilers: General for both Supernatural and Heroes, no specific spoilers.
Summary: When their brothers instruct them to "have fun," Nathan and Sam decide to be civilized about it.
Word Count: 3,726
A few months back my sister BrightEyed-Jill finished a five-part Heroes/Supernatural crossover story called The Secret's In The Telling. It had a clever plot, some great angst, some sleuthing, good incorporation of both worlds, some great violence, and yeah, some hot sex. I highly recommend you go over and read it before you read my story, because while most of it will make sense, some bits of it might be a tad confusing otherwise. Please read and enjoy, and do review to let me know what you liked, didn't like, or what could be made better. (And review The Secret's In The Telling too, my sister loves detailed reviews!)
The following is SPOILERS for those that haven't read The Secret's In The Telling yet.
Ok, so for those that have read BrightEyed-Jill's story, bascially when it got done, I was like, "Dudette, you had the hot Dean/Peter sex, so where's the Nathan/Sam sex? I bet it would be all civilized and stuff." And she was like, "I do evil!dysfuntional!sex." And I'm like, "I can do civilized!sex. Maybe I'll write that "missing" Nathan/Sam scene." And she was like, "Well, maybe you should." And so I did.
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Sam could remember the last time he’d been at a nice restaurant. It had been back in college, with Jessica’s parents taking them out for a combination congratulations-on-surviving-the-first-year-of-law-school and inspect-their-daughter’s-boyfriend dinner. Sam had remembered feeling incredibly awkward, hoping he’d remember real manners and not what passed for protocol at a diner, hoping he’d say the right things to impress Jessica’s parents, and also hoping that Jessica would appreciate him doing this.
Or, “Be clean, be smooth, and be laid,” as Dean would put it.
Now Sam was on his best behavior, and unsuccessfully trying to put Dean’s advice out of his head. It wasn’t working very well. Not that he wasn’t enjoying Nathan’s company and conversation, because he was, but Dean has the annoying habit of being the devil on Sam’s shoulder sometimes. Nathan seemed to have noticed Sam’s occasional wavering attention, and checked his watch surreptitiously.
“Worried about your brother?” he asked.
“Ah, no, no. I mean, he can take care of himself,” Sam said casually, managing to keep himself from adding “And Peter.”
“I’m sure,” Nathan said dryly, taking a thoughtful bite of his steak.
Sam did a quick mental calculation and realized they’d been together almost two hours. By this time, Sam was sure, Dean and Peter had probably managed to destroy several pieces of furniture.
“Are you tempted to ignore those two just because they think they know what’s best for us?” Sam asked.
Nathan’s mouth twitched slightly as he tried to keep his expression still, and Sam realized that there was something in his jaw, the stubborn set of it, that reminded him of Dean.
“When Peter actually gives me good advice, I tend to follow it,” Nathan replied. “Because it’s usually a rarity.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You can have the couch. You lost the toss,” Nathan was saying over his shoulder, acting as it were part of a prior conversation.
Nathan had insisted on a proper hotel, not a motel or motor lodge. And getting a single room in said hotel for two men without arousing suspicion that neither wanted to deal with meant a little verbal maneuvering. Sam had been only mildly bewildered when Nathan stepped up to the impressive lobby desk and got a suite for the night, easily feigning that they were business associates whose company would only pay for one room. So why not make it a suite? Nathan had said, giving the clerk a little chuckle at the way he was milking his cheapskate employer. Quickly Nathan plunked down one of Sam’s credit cards (Nathan had paid for the meal, so Sam only thought it was fair for him to pay for the room) and got the keys to their room: a suite with a king-size bed and a hot tub.
“Subtle,” Sam said, as they walked down the hallway.
“It was the only one they had left,” Nathan said with dignity. Sam didn’t deign to comment on that. He also didn’t want to deign to acknowledge a nagging memory of a whisky-sweet kiss and a firm hand on the back of his neck. Except he did. Badly.
Sam had resisted the pull tonight out of reflex, putting that night a few weeks ago out of his mind, concentrating instead of one of the first conversations he’d had in years that didn’t involve supernatural horror, lying about being a government agent or police officer, or stuff about his family. At dinner, they’d talked amicably about genealogies in general, and then got into places they’d traveled, all the while managing to keep their “day jobs” out of it. It had been a normal, pleasant, relaxing conversation. It would have been more so if Sam hadn’t kept catching Nathan looking at him speculatively.
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“Dude, stop looking at me like that!” Dean growled, throwing the Impala into reverse to head back down the road to the cemetery.
“Like what?”
“With those damn puppy eyes! You look like if I didn’t go back to check that stupid grave you’d just start whimpering or something,” Dean said, dropping his foot harder on the gas as he spun the wheel around and shifted into drive.
Sam thought about that for a second. He could usually convince Dean to do something if he tried hard enough, but puppy eyes? Heart-melting puppy eyes, really? He looked sideways at Dean. Double-checking the cemetery was mostly caution on his part. They had two hours until midnight; it could wait. He whimpered.
“That’s it!” With that, Dean pulled the Impala over and hauled Sam to his side of the car.
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Nathan opened the door and waved for Sam to precede him. As rooms went, this was nearly palatial, at least in comparison to the roach-infested motels that were Sam’s usual abode. Here he didn’t feel he needed to worry about putting things on the carpet, for fear they might pick up a disease.
Sam tossed his bags on the floor as Nathan quietly closed the door. It was getting close to midnight, and Sam couldn’t quite get out of his head what his brother was probably getting up to. He’d been half-serious when he’d suggested not letting their brothers dictate what him and Nathan should do with their night off.
You’re about as half-serious as your own dick right now, Sam told himself sternly, keeping his back to Nathan for the time being. Though Nathan had carefully kept both himself and Sam to only two glasses of very excellent wine, there was enough in his system to where his body wasn’t listening to reason very well. His trousers had a decidedly interrupted flow at the groin area.
“I was serious about Pete’s advice,” Nathan said calmly from behind Sam. “He’s a good kid, but usually he doesn’t always plan ahead. He charges in, I follow up with a plan.”
“Sounds like me and Dean,” Sam said, surreptitiously trying to take some calming breaths. “Most of the time, at least.”
----------------------------
“I saw you with that girl.”
Dean only smirked, lacing his hands behind his head with a satisfied air as he leaned against the headboard. At eighteen Dean could pass for twenty-one, at least with a fake ID and a dash of charm. He’d taken home some girl from a bar down the road from the motel, and hadn’t seemed particularly ashamed that Sam had caught him doing Sherri? Starla? in the backseat of the Impala.
“So? Dad’s still staking out that nest with Bobby; he won’t be back for a while.”
“I’m not talking about Dad catching you!” Sam said, bristling with anger from his perch on the other bed. Dean looked over at him, trying to figure out what Sammy’s problem was. It wasn’t like this was the first time Dean had brought a girl “home.” Nor the second. Or the tenth.
“What’s your problem? You want to go with me next time?” Dean asked in exasperation. Sammy was already as tall as Dean, and plus some, but didn’t quite have the right swagger (or stubble) to get into Dean’s favorite bars.
“I-,” Sam broke off. He’d been with a few girls before; high school girls from the towns they’d stayed in for a while. But all too often it ended in a very unsatisfying awkward tangle of sweaty limbs. Trying to match the escapades Dean told him about (and those few he’d spied on) always ended in failure, and he was sick of it.
“What?” Dean repeated more forcefully, raising himself on his elbow.
“I don’t know what to do!” Sam burst out, thumping his fist on the bed. His face was flushed bright red, and he tried to keep one hand over his groin. Remembering what Dean had done with the brunette last night had Sam painfully hard, in front of his brother no less, and that wasn’t making his confession any easier.
“Do what?” Dean asked again, eyes seemingly skimming over Sam’s denim-covered crotch.
“What you do! I don’t know how to kiss them… or anything. Not like you,” Sam said, tightening his fist on the bed cover.
Dean’s own hand mimicked Sam’s on the tacky bedspread, clutching it hard enough to whiten his knuckles. It was Dean’s task to take care of his brother: everything from making sure he did his homework and got food, to keeping him safe and showing him the ropes. He’d sort of hoped Sammy wouldn’t need explicit instructions in sex, other than the “use a condom” lecture, but that was apparently futile.
Dean’s own face felt hot when he realized Sammy had been watching his conquests, probably for quite a while. He didn’t consider himself an exhibitionist, but he found that he didn’t exactly mind that Sammy had watched. Actually, he sort of liked the idea. It was a very, very bad idea, but he liked it anyway.
“Well then, I guess I’ll have to show you,” Dean said, making his voice as reasonable as possible.
“Show me, how?”
“If you want to know how to make-out with a chick, then you’re gonna have to practice. So practice on me.” Dean shook his head. Little brothers…
“But, but, we’re brothers! That’s just weird!” Sam protested, trying to put some appropriate indignation into the words. It ended up sounding more pleading than anything else, and set him blushing even harder.
“You see any chicks around to practice on? You want me with you giving tips when you’re with a girl?”
“Uh…” Sam’s blushing was reaching terminal levels, and Dean could see he was losing the battle to keep himself contained. Dean wasn’t in any better state, remembering the stain he’d cleaned off the Impala’s back door after Sherrie had left. Little Sammy had watched him with her, little Sammy with his hand around his cock, jerking off to Sherrie’s moans under Dean’s thrusts…
“I’m not gonna tell anyone Sammy,” Dean said. “It’ll just be between you and me.”
Sam was wavering, shame and humiliation balanced against hormones.
And in a fourteen-year-old boy, hormones always won.
Sam stood up and crossed to Dean’s bed, sitting down and licking his lips nervously.
Dean was a little shocked at the shiver of lust that went through him when Sammy did that.
“Just do what you want Sammy. Anything you want. I’ll show you everything.”
----------------------------------------
“So, you’re not given to impulsive behavior?” Nathan asked quietly.
“I’m the researcher.” Sam shrugged, trying to shake off the memory. “I set up the pins, and then I help Dean knock them down.”
“You prefer things more civilized,” Nathan stated. His voice was calm, far too calm, and Sam turned to look at him. Nathan had carefully loosened his tie, revealing a slice of muscled chest below, and seemed to look down at him through hooded eyes. The intensity of his stare, the command in those eyes, was enough to increase Sam’s trouser problem fivefold.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Nathan said. He turned to go, tie coming off, and paused in the doorway to the bathroom. “Would you care to join me, Sam?”
The invitation sounded so formal that Sam almost laughed, but when Nathan casually slipped off his jacket and shirt, the laughter died. Nathan was easily as firmly muscled as Dean, something Sam wouldn’t have expected from Nathan’s lawyer-like demeanor. He looked smooth and clean, neat and tight, well cared-for. No heavy scars from blades or bullets, claws or fangs, other than the fading lines from that ritual, no grit from unburned gunpowder. He looked… safe; safe in a way that meant Sam could let himself go.
“Yeah.” Sam slowly started divesting himself of his clothes, pausing with Nathan to put them away. It was so weird, because with Dean there sometimes wasn’t enough time to get clothes off, let alone folded, before sex ensued. Dean was all right here, right now, hammer and tongs, all irons in the fire. Nathan seemed to enjoy the anticipation and build-up, being patient, drawing it out. And Sam figured he could get used to that in a hurry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nathan dialed the shower up to hot as Sam quickly put his shoes away. He’d had no idea, other than that brief grope during their drunken kiss a while back, that Sam was so… ripped. Big and solid, definitely. Wide shoulders, strong jaw, yes. But seeing what was underneath the suit was a definite surprise.
Peter’s appearance of frailty, his slim frame and pale skin, had always reinforced Nathan’s built-in drive not to hurt him, no matter what Peter said he needed. He knew, intellectually, that Peter was almost impossible to harm, but he couldn’t get it past his emotional block. Sam’s scars told a different story. He was a survivor of a hundred fights, and had the evidence to prove it.
Nathan knew he and Peter had a slightly unhealthy relationship, even beyond the fact that they were brothers. Their love was too strong, and it made them a little crazy about the other. Nathan had given up his wife and children, his career in politics, his entire life, because Peter needed him. He went half-insane when people threatened Peter, and it was going to kill him one day. It was as Friar Lawrence had warned Romeo, “Love moderately. These violent delights have violent ends.”
But with Sam there wasn’t that intense tangle of guilt and shared destiny; he was clean and safe. There were only some mutual desires that needed to be taken care of. Right now.
Nathan stepped into the shower, letting the heat soak through him, feeling the blood rush to his groin as he heard Sam step in behind him. Whenever this happened with Peter, there was a mingling of shame, guilt, and powerful desire, but it did not bother him one iota to let Sam know how much he wanted him. He wasn’t feeling guilty at all, and that was something very new, at least for Nathan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam paused halfway into the shower, watching the water pour over Nathan’s body. Nathan turned, seeming to sense Sam’s hesitation, and jerked his head. Sam quickly stepped in, and was enveloped by the wet heat. Nathan was nearly staring him down, hooded eyes roaming over him in definite appreciation, and he nodded, looking satisfied. Sam supposed he could have felt like he was a piece of meat Nathan was picking out for dinner, if Nathan’s cock hadn’t been jutting out so far, hard and red and straining towards Sam.
Sam knew Dean wouldn’t ever hurt him, and even during the times when Dean was on top, Sam was always in control. He topped from the bottom, sex being one of those times where he could override Dean’s impulse to have his own way. Dean even seemed to like it that way, getting plenty of his own pleasure in sucking Sam off. But now Sam was seeing things from a different angle. Even though he was taller than Nathan by at least half a foot, Nathan was clearly in charge.
So when Nathan reached up and wrapped a strong, uncalloused hand around the back of Sam’s neck to draw him down for a kiss, Sam let himself sink into it. Sam usually led; after Dean had taught him, Sam was the one that dominated their kisses. But here, Nathan’s mouth was firm and demanding, meeting Sam’s strength on his own terms, and then conquering it.
Nathan took command of him like a general marshalling his troops, pressing their chests together to a surprised gasp from Sam, the hot water seeming to make his skin more sensitive. A hot hardness pressing into his thigh made him moan, and Nathan’s tongue invaded deeper. A firm hand on his ass, fingers pressing in low and deep, nearly turned Sam’s knees to jelly. Slowly, Sam let himself sink to his knees, breaking off the kiss, until the water poured on his head, the spray illuminating an aura of light around Nathan.
From here, Nathan looked ten feet tall, and Sam felt strangely small. Nathan’s hand was in Sam’s wet hair, not stroking like a pet, or pulling insistently, just a firm grip to position Sam right in front of Nathan’s cock. Sam didn’t need any more prompting after that, and opened his mouth and throat wide to swallow Nathan whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nathan knew his grip on Sam’s hair got painful when he felt Sam’s head jerk on him, but couldn’t quite help it. The boy had a wide mouth, and Nathan hadn’t realized he was so experienced. In a single go, Sam was holding all of him, something Peter hadn’t been able to do without a lot of practice. So despite the discomfort it must be causing him, Nathan held onto Sam hard.
“Good,” he murmured above the crashing of the water. “Very good Sam.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam held Nathan in his mouth, breathing carefully through his nose, feeling the twitch and pulse of him echoed in his own cock. He didn’t move, not with his hair being held hostage, but grinned mentally. He liked what was going on, but Nathan had to realize Sam wasn’t exactly a virgin when it came to this sort of thing.
Nathan held himself there for several long breaths, and then slowly pulled out of Sam’s mouth. Sam didn’t chase after him, but he did slowly tickle the underside of Nathan’s cock with his tongue as it left him. The tiny stabs of pain as Nathan’s hand convulsively pulled on his hair meant Sam was leaving an impression.
As Sam unfolded himself from the shower, Nathan freed his hair and tugged Sam to his feet. Capturing Sam in a hard kiss was easy, but Sam grabbed for the wall when Nathan’s hand closed around cock. A few languid pulls, with the thumb circling the top, and Sam found he was riding the edge. Nathan could feel the harsh breathing in his mouth, and nibbled slightly on Sam’s lip, making him hiss.
Nathan’s hand left Sam and turned off the water before Sam could think to protest.
“I have more planned,” Nathan said simply, and grabbed a towel for Sam to dry off.
How he managed to get from bathroom to bed in two-point-five seconds while not giving himself rugburn from the rapid drying was something Sam was never able to figure out afterward. How Nathan got there before him was just a flat-out mystery. How he got the sheets turned down, fresh towels in place, and the lube and condoms out in that time was an impossibility Sam didn’t care to contemplate.
Putting his smooth hands up on Sam’s broad shoulders, Nathan pushed him down into the bed in a single, swift motion.
“All right?” Nathan asked, casually snapping open a bottle of lube, squirting out a liberal amount on one hand.
“Yeah,” Sam said, and put his knees up, opening himself. There was a depth of assurance in Nathan’s acts, no hesitancy or doubt, a complete confidence in himself and his abilities that Sam wanted to be a part of.
Nathan rose and knelt between Sam’s thighs, nudging at his hips until his raised them, fitting pillows underneath to give him easy access. Running one hand down Sam’s inner thigh, Nathan’s hand skimmed up over his balls and slid over his lower belly. Sam’s erection was growing almost painfully urgent.
“You want something?” Nathan asked him, suddenly sliding one slick finger against Sam’s ass.
Sam gasped and his cock jumped. He bit back a moan and closed his eyes momentarily. Nathan was relentless, slowly, carefully pushing in, pausing to let Sam adjust, then going farther. Sam was reduced to incoherence as Nathan’s fingers eased in, one at a time, two, and then three, twisting, scissoring, slick and warm and fantastic, slowly learning which spots made Sam twitch.
His breath coming in ragged pants, cock straining for release, Sam grabbed for his own member, needing to take the edge off. Nathan knocked his hand away with practiced ease.
“Not until I say so,” he commanded, and slowly withdrew his fingers. Sam nearly screamed at that, until Nathan leaned over him, chest bumping Sam’s cock, to talk directly in his ear.
“What do you need?”
“Fuck meeeee,” Sam gasped, the last word drawing out into a wail as Nathan’s thick, covered cock slid into him, opening him easily, splitting him with a delicious ache. Moaning again, Sam bucked his hips, trying to get more friction, but Nathan went still, one hand pressing against Sam’s stomach in warning not to move.
Slowly, he withdrew and slid in again, going deeper and deeper with each thrust, until he bumped against one spot that nearly sent Sam soaring, a choked-off scream warning Nathan how close he was.
“Now,” Nathan growled, nearly in his ear, and Sam’s hand grabbed for his cock, needing the release that Nathan was torturously denying him. Even as his hand closed on it, he felt Nathan’s hand entwined with it, and both of them had a hand around Sam’s twitching dick.
“With me,” Nathan said, and thrust in deep with his hips, squeezing hard with his hand at the same time. Sam soon picked up the rhythm, helping Nathan find the best leverage, bucking his hips up to meet him, clenching Nathan’s hand as hard as he could to show him his favorite speed, gasping when Nathan would add random squeezes to draw it out.
Nathan held Sam’s hand like a lifeline as he reveled in the feeling of Sam thrashing and moaning under him. Held together, both men straining for mutual release, Nathan locked eyes with Sam, every muscle tight, commanding him wordlessly to hold on just one more second… Then everything exploded, Nathan cumming deep within Sam, Sam splattering their hands as gasping breaths of ecstasy filled the room.
Sam sagged in Nathan’s grasp as they both returned to themselves, finally unlocking their hands, pulling apart from each other, stretching to relax muscles knotted from orgasm. Nathan stood up, an air of victory about him, as Sam lay there like one dead.
“So, I’d say your impulse control is very good,” Nathan said casually. Sam started laughing, throwing his head back into the pillows and laughing so hard that everyone in the hotel must have been able to hear him.
“Yeah. I suppose it is,” he replied, lacing his hands under his head.
“It’s always better to be civilized about it.” And Nathan smiled broadly.