![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chase_acow
Title: Best Birthday Ever
Fandom/Pairing: SPN/RPS ~ Jensen/Jared and Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All lies.
Word Count: ~2,000
Summary: "Jared is in the mood for role playing, and since it's his birthday Jensen goes along with it. Jared's birthday wish? That Dean gets all possessive of his little brother and much nakedness and sex happens (bottom Sammy...er...Jared)"
A/N:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
country_bee's prompt for The Padalecki Birthday prompt meme. Quick and dirty, unbetaed. Enjoy!
Jensen jerked his head to either side, relishing the release of tension as he rolled his shoulders under his heavy leather jacket. Not actually his jacket, but as long as he got it back into wardrobe Monday morning, Diane would probably spare his balls. At least he hoped so; he was pretty attached to 'em. It was really too hot to be wearing the damn thing, but verisimilitude was the theme for the night.
The bar in front of him wasn't one where they'd ever been regulars. He remembered going there a couple of times when they were shooting season one before they found better places closer to where they lived. It was towards the edge of town, there was an empty field behind it, a rundown neighborhood to one side, and at the end of the block was a trashy motel straight from one of their scripts.
One last deep breath, and then he pushed through the front door and into the dim interior. Just like before, there were a dozen or so working class local guys with a couple of women sprinkled in. If there'd been a few more Stetsons, some country music blaring, and shorter miniskirts it could have been a bar back home. He spotted Jared quickly, he was easily the tallest person in there, leaned up against the bar talking casually to a woman obviously flirting with him.
He couldn't help rolling his eyes; it never failed that wherever they went Jared always managed to pick up a chick or two. Jensen usually managed a polite brush-off, but Jared was just too friendly, too flirty and approachable for his own good. It wasn't too hard for Jensen to dig a little and come up with a soft growl and narrowed eyes.
Jensen watched the girl shift, a prelude to movement, and he knew that she was going to reach out and plant her dainty hand over Jared's chest. Jensen moved quickly, his heavy boots clunking over the old dirty floor and cut in between them, palming Jared's half-full beer and lifting it up to drain it.
The girl coughed and excused herself giving Jensen just a little twinge for being so rude.
"Okay," Jared drawled, settling in at Jensen's side, their bodies aligned from shoulder to hip. He was wearing a dark blue button up shirt that stretched tight across his biceps. "What crawled up your ass?"
"My ass?" Jensen asked, glaring up with both eyebrows raised as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He pinned Jared with a withering stare, "My ass? I think the question is your ass, as in what the fuck it's doing here with her."
"Her?" Jared's face scrunched up, confusion written over his features. His hair dropped dopily to either side of his forehead and curled in the back over his collar, "You can't seriously be jealous of her."
Jensen turned, cocked his hip against the bar and poked Jared hard in the solar plexus. "What I am is pissed off," he growled, making a fist and punching Jared lightly for extra emphasis.
"What? Why?"
The jukebox switched over to a scratchy song by The Who and Jensen took just long enough to lure the bartender over with a ten and order two shots. "Jesus Christ, you didn't leave a note, you don't answer your phone, what was I suppose to think?" he said, slamming back both shots as soon as they were put in front of him. "Shit, Sammy, anything could have happened to you."
The expressions that flashed across Jared's face would have been hilarious under other circumstances, but at the moment, all Jensen could do was tighten both his jaw and his hand around his empty glass. He held his breath and shoved away the urge to fidget and shuffle his feet.
"I, uh, sorry. Sorry, I must have dropped my phone somewhere," Jared said cautiously, furrowing his brows and turning his head so he had to look at Jensen through the corner of his eye. "I didn't mean to worry you, Dean."
"Yeah, well," Dean started, straightening and shoving Sam away from the bar in front of him. He herded him toward the door, more than ready to get back to their room, "you better believe the new one is coming out of your hair care budget, princess."
They broke into the cooler night air, and Dean took a breath, freer now that it was only his own eyes watching his brother's movements. Knowing that other people were looking at them always made his skin itch as if he were broadcasting his thoughts as clear as a blinking fucking neon sign. Sam automatically turned to the left, scanning the parking lot.
"Hey genius," he called, shoving his hands in his hip pockets and jerking his head the other way, "the motel's this way. Seriously, I can't leave you alone for a minute."
Sam's mouth quirked up into a crooked grin as he fell into step beside Dean. It wasn't a very far walk to the motel, and they made it in silence, their shoulders bumped together on every third step or so. He fished in his jacket pocket until he found the key to number seven. He opened the door and let Sam go in before him.
"Dean, I-"
Dean followed immediately on Sam's heels and as soon as he cleared the threshold, he spun Sam around and slammed him up against the door, closing it viciously. He pressed their bodies together and curled his fingers under the band of Sam's jeans.
"I don't want to hear it, baby brother," Dean said, still and quiet knowing Sam would hear the steel in his voice. "I oughta low jack your ass. Put a fucking leash and collar on you. Stamp 'Property of Dean Winchester' across your forehead."
Sam shivered under Dean's hands, his stomach jumping as he sucked in a quick breath. Dean could feel Sam getting hard against Dean's belly, and he rocked into it, shoving his knee between Sam's legs and pushing them further apart. He felt Sam fist his hands in the back of his jacket and pull roughly, rubbing their chests together.
"Dean," Sam breathed, his voice reverent as if he were praying.
"That chick was into you Sammy," Dean said, backing away just far enough to strip his coat off and throw it on the chair. He ignored Sam's plea, wrapping his hands underneath the dip of Sam's ribs. "I think she would have taken you out back gone down on you." Dean looked up at Sam through his eyelashes, licking his lips, "You think her mouth would have been as good as mine?"
The room was still dark, the only light coming in from a close streetlamp through the cracked shades covering the window. It painted across Sam's face, harsh white and black that blurred as Dean dropped to his knees.
"It's not as big as my mouth," Dean said, breathing over the bulge in Sam's pants. He kneaded Sam's inner thighs, dragging his lips over the rough denim separating him from Sam's cock. He lifted his hands to frame it between his fingers, and looked up, "She doesn't know this dick like I do."
He quickly pulled Sam's belt away, flicked the button open and jerked down the zipper. Sam's dick instantly sprang up, parting the flap of his boxers and pointed straight at Dean's lips like it knew what it wanted. Dean wrapped his hand around it and jerked twice, swallowing thickly.
"Hell," he said quietly, almost to himself, "I was the one who taught you how to jerk off."
"Fuck."
Dean pulled Sam's jeans and boxers down his thighs, and didn't bother to tease. Sam was hard, already leaking all over himself, so Dean swallowed him whole, moaning as Sam filled his mouth and taste exploded over his tongue. He loved sucking cock, loved sucking Sam's cock and hearing the sounds he pulled from Sam's fucking mouth. He bobbed up and down, sweeping his tongue across the thick vein traveling up from the bottom to the tip.
"Oh, fuck," Sam moaned, curling his fingers around the back of Dean's skull.
Smiling around Sam's dick, Dean kept slurping while he dug into his pocket for a thin packet of lube. He coated his first two fingers and reached up, shoving between Sam's cheeks and probing until they slipped into Sam's waiting hole. Above him, Sam let loose a high-pitched whine, and Dean pushed and twisted his fingers until Sam ratcheted up even higher and beat his head against the door.
"Dean, please."
He looked up and saw that Sam was curved down toward him, his eyes frantic and wide. Dean backed off with a wet pop and cricked his neck to mouth over Sam's balls. "Please, what?" he asked, flicking his tongue out as he added another finger to stretch Sam open.
"Fuck me. Fuck me, please," Sam begged, his fingers moving restlessly over Dean's cheeks, mouth and jaw. "Fuck me."
"Well, who could say no when you ask so pretty?" Dean teased, sitting back on his heels and working into Sam's ass for another minute before he pulled away. "Get naked. On the bed, on your belly."
Sam groaned but hurried to pull his shirts over his head and kick his shoes off. Dean turned his back, quickly stripped out of his own clothes, and left them in a messy heap on the floor. When he turned back, Sam was already laying on top of the bedspread, his legs wide and a glistening trail of lube easy to see. The bottom of his stomach dropped out, a flood of warmth pooled and Dean bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Shit, Sammy, look at you," Dean said, crawling up the foot of the bed until he was between Sam's knees. He reached out and pulled Sam's hips back to his groin, rubbing his cock against Sam's hole without actually breaching it. "So ready for it, begging for my cock. Who else can get you like this?"
"No one, Dean," Sam said, wiggling impatiently and shoving back into Dean's body. "Just you, always you."
He scratched his nails down Sam's back, watching the trails of white follow his fingers before blending back into a pink tan. "That's right, little brother," he said, taking hold of Sam's hips and lining himself up. "All we've got is each other."
Dean pushed in, hard and fast, but he knew Sam could take it, knew he'd love it just that little bit extra for pulling Sam out of his own head. The lube made his thrusts slide smooth, tight heat encasing his cock made him groan aloud with pleasure. He rubbed his fingers over Sam's spine where his back dipped down before flaring out. He could feel Sam's muscles bunching and flexing underneath him and started rocking faster.
They were both close to the edge; Dean could tell when his brother's panting turned into harsh sobs. He snaked his hand around Sam's ribs and palmed his dick, rubbing it up against the hard muscles of Sam's stomach. He smirked when he heard Sam's choked off cry and felt wet pulses shoot across his wrist.
"That's it, Sammy," he said, fucking harder as he felt his own release spiral up from the bottom of his feet. "Girl should always come first." He jerk forward, burying himself in Sam's warm flesh once more before he came harsh groan echoing through his hollow chest.
As soon as he caught his breath, Dean pulled away and collapsed on shaky limbs beside Sam, curling into his furnace like warmth. Sam turned his face in, tucking his chin over Dean's shoulder and smiling happy and bright.
Far too happy and bright, Dean shifted uncomfortably ready to head for the shower.
"Oh my god, that was amazing, Jensen!" Jared said quickly, pressing kisses to the places on Jensen's collarbone that he could reach. He stretched out, throwing a leg over and cuddled closer. "You're the best boyfriend ever."
Jensen blinked, smiled back, and dislodged Jared just long enough to wrap his arm around Jared's shoulders. "Yeah, well, it wasn't quite as weird as I thought it would be," he admitted, brushing the hair from Jared's forehead with a tender caress. "Happy birthday, Jare."
Jared yawned, his hot breath puffing over Jensen's chest, and said sleepily, "Best birthday ever."
Fandom/Pairing: SPN/RPS ~ Jensen/Jared and Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All lies.
Word Count: ~2,000
Summary: "Jared is in the mood for role playing, and since it's his birthday Jensen goes along with it. Jared's birthday wish? That Dean gets all possessive of his little brother and much nakedness and sex happens (bottom Sammy...er...Jared)"
A/N:
country_bee's prompt for The Padalecki Birthday prompt meme. Quick and dirty, unbetaed. Enjoy!Jensen jerked his head to either side, relishing the release of tension as he rolled his shoulders under his heavy leather jacket. Not actually his jacket, but as long as he got it back into wardrobe Monday morning, Diane would probably spare his balls. At least he hoped so; he was pretty attached to 'em. It was really too hot to be wearing the damn thing, but verisimilitude was the theme for the night.
The bar in front of him wasn't one where they'd ever been regulars. He remembered going there a couple of times when they were shooting season one before they found better places closer to where they lived. It was towards the edge of town, there was an empty field behind it, a rundown neighborhood to one side, and at the end of the block was a trashy motel straight from one of their scripts.
One last deep breath, and then he pushed through the front door and into the dim interior. Just like before, there were a dozen or so working class local guys with a couple of women sprinkled in. If there'd been a few more Stetsons, some country music blaring, and shorter miniskirts it could have been a bar back home. He spotted Jared quickly, he was easily the tallest person in there, leaned up against the bar talking casually to a woman obviously flirting with him.
He couldn't help rolling his eyes; it never failed that wherever they went Jared always managed to pick up a chick or two. Jensen usually managed a polite brush-off, but Jared was just too friendly, too flirty and approachable for his own good. It wasn't too hard for Jensen to dig a little and come up with a soft growl and narrowed eyes.
Jensen watched the girl shift, a prelude to movement, and he knew that she was going to reach out and plant her dainty hand over Jared's chest. Jensen moved quickly, his heavy boots clunking over the old dirty floor and cut in between them, palming Jared's half-full beer and lifting it up to drain it.
The girl coughed and excused herself giving Jensen just a little twinge for being so rude.
"Okay," Jared drawled, settling in at Jensen's side, their bodies aligned from shoulder to hip. He was wearing a dark blue button up shirt that stretched tight across his biceps. "What crawled up your ass?"
"My ass?" Jensen asked, glaring up with both eyebrows raised as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He pinned Jared with a withering stare, "My ass? I think the question is your ass, as in what the fuck it's doing here with her."
"Her?" Jared's face scrunched up, confusion written over his features. His hair dropped dopily to either side of his forehead and curled in the back over his collar, "You can't seriously be jealous of her."
Jensen turned, cocked his hip against the bar and poked Jared hard in the solar plexus. "What I am is pissed off," he growled, making a fist and punching Jared lightly for extra emphasis.
"What? Why?"
The jukebox switched over to a scratchy song by The Who and Jensen took just long enough to lure the bartender over with a ten and order two shots. "Jesus Christ, you didn't leave a note, you don't answer your phone, what was I suppose to think?" he said, slamming back both shots as soon as they were put in front of him. "Shit, Sammy, anything could have happened to you."
The expressions that flashed across Jared's face would have been hilarious under other circumstances, but at the moment, all Jensen could do was tighten both his jaw and his hand around his empty glass. He held his breath and shoved away the urge to fidget and shuffle his feet.
"I, uh, sorry. Sorry, I must have dropped my phone somewhere," Jared said cautiously, furrowing his brows and turning his head so he had to look at Jensen through the corner of his eye. "I didn't mean to worry you, Dean."
"Yeah, well," Dean started, straightening and shoving Sam away from the bar in front of him. He herded him toward the door, more than ready to get back to their room, "you better believe the new one is coming out of your hair care budget, princess."
They broke into the cooler night air, and Dean took a breath, freer now that it was only his own eyes watching his brother's movements. Knowing that other people were looking at them always made his skin itch as if he were broadcasting his thoughts as clear as a blinking fucking neon sign. Sam automatically turned to the left, scanning the parking lot.
"Hey genius," he called, shoving his hands in his hip pockets and jerking his head the other way, "the motel's this way. Seriously, I can't leave you alone for a minute."
Sam's mouth quirked up into a crooked grin as he fell into step beside Dean. It wasn't a very far walk to the motel, and they made it in silence, their shoulders bumped together on every third step or so. He fished in his jacket pocket until he found the key to number seven. He opened the door and let Sam go in before him.
"Dean, I-"
Dean followed immediately on Sam's heels and as soon as he cleared the threshold, he spun Sam around and slammed him up against the door, closing it viciously. He pressed their bodies together and curled his fingers under the band of Sam's jeans.
"I don't want to hear it, baby brother," Dean said, still and quiet knowing Sam would hear the steel in his voice. "I oughta low jack your ass. Put a fucking leash and collar on you. Stamp 'Property of Dean Winchester' across your forehead."
Sam shivered under Dean's hands, his stomach jumping as he sucked in a quick breath. Dean could feel Sam getting hard against Dean's belly, and he rocked into it, shoving his knee between Sam's legs and pushing them further apart. He felt Sam fist his hands in the back of his jacket and pull roughly, rubbing their chests together.
"Dean," Sam breathed, his voice reverent as if he were praying.
"That chick was into you Sammy," Dean said, backing away just far enough to strip his coat off and throw it on the chair. He ignored Sam's plea, wrapping his hands underneath the dip of Sam's ribs. "I think she would have taken you out back gone down on you." Dean looked up at Sam through his eyelashes, licking his lips, "You think her mouth would have been as good as mine?"
The room was still dark, the only light coming in from a close streetlamp through the cracked shades covering the window. It painted across Sam's face, harsh white and black that blurred as Dean dropped to his knees.
"It's not as big as my mouth," Dean said, breathing over the bulge in Sam's pants. He kneaded Sam's inner thighs, dragging his lips over the rough denim separating him from Sam's cock. He lifted his hands to frame it between his fingers, and looked up, "She doesn't know this dick like I do."
He quickly pulled Sam's belt away, flicked the button open and jerked down the zipper. Sam's dick instantly sprang up, parting the flap of his boxers and pointed straight at Dean's lips like it knew what it wanted. Dean wrapped his hand around it and jerked twice, swallowing thickly.
"Hell," he said quietly, almost to himself, "I was the one who taught you how to jerk off."
"Fuck."
Dean pulled Sam's jeans and boxers down his thighs, and didn't bother to tease. Sam was hard, already leaking all over himself, so Dean swallowed him whole, moaning as Sam filled his mouth and taste exploded over his tongue. He loved sucking cock, loved sucking Sam's cock and hearing the sounds he pulled from Sam's fucking mouth. He bobbed up and down, sweeping his tongue across the thick vein traveling up from the bottom to the tip.
"Oh, fuck," Sam moaned, curling his fingers around the back of Dean's skull.
Smiling around Sam's dick, Dean kept slurping while he dug into his pocket for a thin packet of lube. He coated his first two fingers and reached up, shoving between Sam's cheeks and probing until they slipped into Sam's waiting hole. Above him, Sam let loose a high-pitched whine, and Dean pushed and twisted his fingers until Sam ratcheted up even higher and beat his head against the door.
"Dean, please."
He looked up and saw that Sam was curved down toward him, his eyes frantic and wide. Dean backed off with a wet pop and cricked his neck to mouth over Sam's balls. "Please, what?" he asked, flicking his tongue out as he added another finger to stretch Sam open.
"Fuck me. Fuck me, please," Sam begged, his fingers moving restlessly over Dean's cheeks, mouth and jaw. "Fuck me."
"Well, who could say no when you ask so pretty?" Dean teased, sitting back on his heels and working into Sam's ass for another minute before he pulled away. "Get naked. On the bed, on your belly."
Sam groaned but hurried to pull his shirts over his head and kick his shoes off. Dean turned his back, quickly stripped out of his own clothes, and left them in a messy heap on the floor. When he turned back, Sam was already laying on top of the bedspread, his legs wide and a glistening trail of lube easy to see. The bottom of his stomach dropped out, a flood of warmth pooled and Dean bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Shit, Sammy, look at you," Dean said, crawling up the foot of the bed until he was between Sam's knees. He reached out and pulled Sam's hips back to his groin, rubbing his cock against Sam's hole without actually breaching it. "So ready for it, begging for my cock. Who else can get you like this?"
"No one, Dean," Sam said, wiggling impatiently and shoving back into Dean's body. "Just you, always you."
He scratched his nails down Sam's back, watching the trails of white follow his fingers before blending back into a pink tan. "That's right, little brother," he said, taking hold of Sam's hips and lining himself up. "All we've got is each other."
Dean pushed in, hard and fast, but he knew Sam could take it, knew he'd love it just that little bit extra for pulling Sam out of his own head. The lube made his thrusts slide smooth, tight heat encasing his cock made him groan aloud with pleasure. He rubbed his fingers over Sam's spine where his back dipped down before flaring out. He could feel Sam's muscles bunching and flexing underneath him and started rocking faster.
They were both close to the edge; Dean could tell when his brother's panting turned into harsh sobs. He snaked his hand around Sam's ribs and palmed his dick, rubbing it up against the hard muscles of Sam's stomach. He smirked when he heard Sam's choked off cry and felt wet pulses shoot across his wrist.
"That's it, Sammy," he said, fucking harder as he felt his own release spiral up from the bottom of his feet. "Girl should always come first." He jerk forward, burying himself in Sam's warm flesh once more before he came harsh groan echoing through his hollow chest.
As soon as he caught his breath, Dean pulled away and collapsed on shaky limbs beside Sam, curling into his furnace like warmth. Sam turned his face in, tucking his chin over Dean's shoulder and smiling happy and bright.
Far too happy and bright, Dean shifted uncomfortably ready to head for the shower.
"Oh my god, that was amazing, Jensen!" Jared said quickly, pressing kisses to the places on Jensen's collarbone that he could reach. He stretched out, throwing a leg over and cuddled closer. "You're the best boyfriend ever."
Jensen blinked, smiled back, and dislodged Jared just long enough to wrap his arm around Jared's shoulders. "Yeah, well, it wasn't quite as weird as I thought it would be," he admitted, brushing the hair from Jared's forehead with a tender caress. "Happy birthday, Jare."
Jared yawned, his hot breath puffing over Jensen's chest, and said sleepily, "Best birthday ever."
