Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 2: Talk You Off

[justinedelarge]

Title: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 2: Talk You Off
Author:justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: M
Warning: Wincest (non-graphic—in this chapter)
Word Count: 1000
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my original characters and plot.
Summary: Dean learns the power he has to make Sam crazy just with his voice.

John threw the last of their things into the trunk of the Impala, and placed the cooler full of sodas and deli sandwiches on the front seat. Sam and Dean fought too much over who got to ride shotgun, so John had mandated the front seat was for food and storage, and the back seat was for teenage boys. Particularly on cross-country trips like this one, where they would try to sleep in the car when they could to save money.

Sam threw himself into the back seat with a whoof. Dean smacked his shoulder. “Stop touching me.” Sam glared at Dean. He’d been testy for weeks, ever since Dean talked him up on the couch. They both knew why, without having to say a word.

“You sure about that?” Dean’s lip curled up in a slow, sweet smile, and Sam erupted in a fit of blushing.

“You boys be good, alright? Otherwise, it’s gonna be a long trip.” John clicked his seatbelt secure, and turned the Impala onto the endless stretch of black asphalt.

They’d been driving all day, pulling in at rest stops to stretch their legs and eat lunch, and now it had gotten dark. John drove with one elbow out the open window, cool night air blowing through, classic rock playing on the radio. Heart’s Magic Man came on, and John turned the volume up.

Dean took advantage of the opportunity.

He leaned against his half-asleep brother, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Hey, Sam.”

“Mmm?” Sam said sleepily.

Dean leaned closer and whispered in Sam’s ear, “That girl in Branson? Best little cocksucker I ever saw. Been meaning to tell you about it.”

Sam snapped to attention, staring at Dad’s face in the rear view. John’s eyes were fixed on the road, paying no attention to the quiet teenagers in the back seat.

“He can’t hear us over the music. It’s ok.” Sam swallowed hard, neck arching at the warmth of Dean’s breath moving over it.

“I know you’ve never fucked a girl. But you ever get your dick sucked, Sammy?” Sam shook his head, hair flying into his eyes. “Didn’t think so. Too bad. You’re just too damn shy, Sam. You’re a good-looking kid.”

Sam stole a glance at Dean. “You think so?”

“Shit yeah. You’re MY brother, after all.”

Sam was quiet. Dean waited and held his breath. “So… what’s it like?”

Dean breathed out. “A blow job? It’s awesome. It’s like kissing and jacking off mixed together.  But they don’t actually blow. Weird they call it that. Should call it a suck job. See, you kind of tuck your lips around your teeth so they don’t hurt” (and Dean knew perfectly well he should say “she tucks her lips” but that’s not what he said at all) and take just a little in your mouth at first and suck. And move your tongue on the bottom part. You know, on that part that feels really good when you jack off.” And Dean knew Sammy jacked off, had listened to him in the night, his soft little gasps like sobs, curled up tense and miserable in his sheets, wanting to slip in next to Sam and wrap his fingers (god, his mouth) around Sam’s cock and make him shudder and come just for him.

And Sam was shivering. Listening to his big brother talk dirty.

“Then you take it deeper. Keep your lips tight around it and move your mouth up and down and suck.” Sam shivered harder. “And you move your tongue. If you practice, you can take it all the way down. They call that deep-throating.” Sam’s breath was coming faster now. Just from Dean’s words. It was like Dean was touching Sam all over, just with his voice. Making him crazy. Dean knew the effect he had, and loved it. Knew all the signs. And Sam was flashing every single fucking one of them. Dean took a deep breath to steel himself—this could go so wrong, so quickly—and then brushed his mouth against Sam’s ear.

Sam fucking moaned.

Dean nearly came instantly.

Their eyes met. Neither looked away. They had just crossed a thin, invisible line. No going back now. And Dean wouldn’t have gone back if a horde of demons had dragged him.

And it made him even bolder.

Dean’s lips ghosted over Sam’s neck as he whispered, “It feels really good, Sammy. So good. Someone’s mouth on your cock, all warm and wet, looking up at you, watching you watch them suck you off, taking it so good for you...” And with that, Sam shuddered, digging the nails of his left hand into Dean’s thigh, and gasped, “Dean.”

“Holy shit… Sammy… did you just…” Dean ran his fingers through Sam’s floppy hair.

Sam buried his face into Dean’s shoulder, seized by shyness. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t even touch you.”

“Liked what you said.” Sam’s voice was muffled by Dean’s flannel shirt.

Dean felt dizzy, euphoric. “You came in your jeans…just from me talking dirty.” Sam snuggled closer.

“I’ll ask Dad to find a rest stop. Get you cleaned up.” Get him some relief too. He was so hard he was about to poke a hole in his jeans.

“Hey, Dean? What you said?”

“Yeah?”

Sam looked up at Dean, eyes huge, and whispered, “When we stop? Show me? How to suck your cock?”

And with that, Dean no longer needed to stop for relief. Just for a wet towel.

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