Ficlet - Halftime
Title: Halftime
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There are better things to do than watch Prince perform his old hits.
A/N: written for the 50 reasons to have sex meme.
It was cold, really cold, not that anything else could be expected in the Nebraska winter. Dean and Sam had settled into one of the beds in their motel room (the sex bed or the sleeping bed, that hadn’t yet been determined) to watch the Superbowl. Neither of them were Patriots or Giants fans, but you had to watch the Superbowl, if you liked football, even if only for the commercials.
They’d both given up on the chance of the Chiefs being a part of this particular game years ago, to be honest, and the fact that the Colts had thrown the Chiefs out of contention in playoff games several times made them secretly root for the Giants, even though they were NFC.
After several beers, Sam announced, his voice a little slurred, “Halftime, dude.”
“Who’s the entertainment?”
Without flinching, Sam responded, “Prince.”
Dean groaned. “Christ, turn it off, turn it the fuck off, please!”
Sam reached for the remote and there was silence in the room.
Just for a minute.
“Gonna be a while before the game comes back on”, he said, turning toward his brother with a completely innocent (fake innocent) look on his face. “We could maybe order in some dinner, or…”
Dean saw past the façade in a hot second. “We got food here.” Which was true, if you counted beer and soda and Nacho Cheese Doritos and a bag of peanut M&Ms as food. “Better ways to pass the time, Sammy.”
And before he knew it, Dean’s hands were down his boxers, teeth were scraping against his neck and he was getting hard.
Not one to give over control of a situation like this easily, he rolled on top of Dean, shoving both their boxers down and off in record time. Sliding down the mattress, he ignored his own erection in favor of sucking his brother’s cock into his mouth without any preamble. Only his forearm across Dean’s hips kept him from thrusting into Sam’s mouth as Sam licked and sucked and hummed, taking Dean as far as he could. He fisted Dean’s shaft to make up for what he couldn’t swallow, moving his mouth and hand in a simultaneous rhythm.
For Dean’s part, he could only fist his hands in Sam’s hair and intermittently groan out small phrases like fuck yeah baby and Jesus, Sammy, so fucking good until he was reduced to just moaning and panting and repeating his brother’s name over and over.
Not surprisingly, it didn’t take long before Sam knew his brother was going to come and pulled back just enough so he could taste it all before he swallowed Dean’s release with a smile.
After a minute, Dean had recovered enough to click the remote and see five seconds (four more seconds than he wanted to) of Prince rocking out his live version of “Let’s Go Crazy” before he clicked the TV back off.
Reaching for the bottle of lube in the nightstand, Dean shook it at Sam, saying, “We got lots of time, baby boy. Fuck me.”
Sam had no objection. By the time he’d fulfilled his brother’s request, cleaned them up and settled back into bed, the game was on again. He grabbed two more beers, requisitioned the bag of Doritos, and handed Dean the M&Ms.
No way in hell Sam was going to admit that he liked Prince. Didn’t matter anyway, since he liked fucking Dean about a hundred times more.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There are better things to do than watch Prince perform his old hits.
A/N: written for the 50 reasons to have sex meme.
It was cold, really cold, not that anything else could be expected in the Nebraska winter. Dean and Sam had settled into one of the beds in their motel room (the sex bed or the sleeping bed, that hadn’t yet been determined) to watch the Superbowl. Neither of them were Patriots or Giants fans, but you had to watch the Superbowl, if you liked football, even if only for the commercials.
They’d both given up on the chance of the Chiefs being a part of this particular game years ago, to be honest, and the fact that the Colts had thrown the Chiefs out of contention in playoff games several times made them secretly root for the Giants, even though they were NFC.
After several beers, Sam announced, his voice a little slurred, “Halftime, dude.”
“Who’s the entertainment?”
Without flinching, Sam responded, “Prince.”
Dean groaned. “Christ, turn it off, turn it the fuck off, please!”
Sam reached for the remote and there was silence in the room.
Just for a minute.
“Gonna be a while before the game comes back on”, he said, turning toward his brother with a completely innocent (fake innocent) look on his face. “We could maybe order in some dinner, or…”
Dean saw past the façade in a hot second. “We got food here.” Which was true, if you counted beer and soda and Nacho Cheese Doritos and a bag of peanut M&Ms as food. “Better ways to pass the time, Sammy.”
And before he knew it, Dean’s hands were down his boxers, teeth were scraping against his neck and he was getting hard.
Not one to give over control of a situation like this easily, he rolled on top of Dean, shoving both their boxers down and off in record time. Sliding down the mattress, he ignored his own erection in favor of sucking his brother’s cock into his mouth without any preamble. Only his forearm across Dean’s hips kept him from thrusting into Sam’s mouth as Sam licked and sucked and hummed, taking Dean as far as he could. He fisted Dean’s shaft to make up for what he couldn’t swallow, moving his mouth and hand in a simultaneous rhythm.
For Dean’s part, he could only fist his hands in Sam’s hair and intermittently groan out small phrases like fuck yeah baby and Jesus, Sammy, so fucking good until he was reduced to just moaning and panting and repeating his brother’s name over and over.
Not surprisingly, it didn’t take long before Sam knew his brother was going to come and pulled back just enough so he could taste it all before he swallowed Dean’s release with a smile.
After a minute, Dean had recovered enough to click the remote and see five seconds (four more seconds than he wanted to) of Prince rocking out his live version of “Let’s Go Crazy” before he clicked the TV back off.
Reaching for the bottle of lube in the nightstand, Dean shook it at Sam, saying, “We got lots of time, baby boy. Fuck me.”
Sam had no objection. By the time he’d fulfilled his brother’s request, cleaned them up and settled back into bed, the game was on again. He grabbed two more beers, requisitioned the bag of Doritos, and handed Dean the M&Ms.
No way in hell Sam was going to admit that he liked Prince. Didn’t matter anyway, since he liked fucking Dean about a hundred times more.