Style, Part 3.

Author: Zoicyte aka Johnnyjosh

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Dean/Sam


Spoilers: Season 2

Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or its characters, and am making no money from this.

Warnings and Notes: Yaoi, lime, language.  OOC, TWT, AU, General Weirdness.  This was just a little something that tickled my funny bone after watching a rerun of ‘Tall Tales’. 

Summary: Time’s almost up, and Dean’s deal comes due.  But it seems that sometimes the right words spoken at the right time can mean more than you ever thought possible. 

“ ” Speaking

* * Thoughts

~~oOo~~ Change of scene or POV   




“Sam, please, would you just stop with the questions?”  Dean asked, voice low. 


          “No, I want to know!” Sam shot back.  “What that was, what it meant, why you didn’t stop when the show was over,” he paused, taking a deep breath.  “And why it felt…the way it did.”  Sam murmured, turning around in his seat and staring out the window. 


          Dean frowned at those last words, risking a quick glance at his brother even as his foot pressed harder on the accelerator.  He just wanted to get back to the room, knowing that his brother was going to keep on this track, until he got what he wanted.  But now, that little admission by Sam had Dean wanting a few answers of his own. They drove for several minutes in tense silence, then Dean slowed down slightly as the brightly lit sign came into view, his expression intent as he pulled into the parking lot and parked the Impala in front of their room door. 


          After the engine was shut off, the two of them sat in silence for a few moments.  Finally, Sam couldn’t stand it anymore.  He grabbed the paddle still sitting in his lap, looking at it with a pensive expression before he scowled almost angrily.  “Why did they assume you were seme?” He groused, then tossed the paddle in the backseat.  “Not to mention those idiots at the bar assumed I was your bitch…” He blushed at that, dragging a hand down his face.  


Dean managed a faint chuckle, glancing over at his brother as they got out of the car.  “Well, you did say once that I was pretty butch, didn’t you?”  He smirked, falling into step beside his brother as they drew up to their room door. 


Sam gave a soft laugh, eyes closing as he shook his head, remembering the incident with the inn, where the owner had assumed they were gay and tried to give them a room with a king size bed.  “I also said you seemed to be overcompensating for something, if I remember correctly,” he chuckled, sliding the key into the lock, then opening the door. 


Dean snorted, walking into the room and stripping off his jacket, before tossing it onto the couch.  “Believe me, I don’t need to compensate for anything,” he said with a smirk, then gasped as he turned around and found himself face-to-face with his younger brother.  “Sammy…” he nearly groaned out the other man’s name as large hands cupped his face gently, urging him to tilt his head up. He did so, slowly, eyes sliding shut, knowing what was about to happen, but unable to bring himself to stop it.


“Prove it,” Sam whispered, before he tilted his head, closed his eyes and seized his brother’s lips in a heated kiss.  As soon as their lips touched Sam shivered, hands moving from Dean’s face down to the other man’s waist, gripping his sides and tugging him closer.


Dean grunted as he was pulled forward, arms snapping around Sam’s waist and holding onto him tightly, a growl sounding deep in his throat when their bodies pressed together.  With a moan he kissed the younger man back, tongue brushing along Sam’s upper lip, before he nipped at it gently.  The fingers splayed over his sides tightened slightly at that, before Dean found himself being pushed back slowly, toward the couch.   The kiss was broken when his knees hit the edge and he sat down hard with a startled sound, staring up at his brother.  “Sammy,” he said softly, swallowing hard at the intense way the other man was staring down at him.  “Sammy, listen to me…” He tried to speak, voice hoarse with something he didn’t want to think too much about right now.  


“It’s Sam, and no,” the younger Winchester murmured, leaning over and bracing his hands on his brother’s shoulders, before lowering himself onto the other man, straddling Dean’s hips.   Once Sam was settled on Dean’s lap, he ground down against him, moaning softly as he kissed him again, tongue lapping at his brother’s lips.  “I don’t want to listen, talk, or think,” he murmured, lips moving gently over Dean’s.  “I just want to feel this again…” 


Dean groaned and reached up, curling the fingers of one hand in Sam’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.  His other hand dropped to Sam’s thigh, giving it a squeeze as Dean rocked his hips up with another soft sound. 


Both of them moaned as Sam slid his hands down over Dean’s chest, fingertips brushing the older man’s nipples through his t-shirt. Sam continued to tease the hardened nubs for a few moments, until Dean was squirming beneath him, panting into the kiss.   Then his hands plunged lower, fingertips sliding up under the hem of Dean’s shirt and stroking his bare abdomen. 


Dean gasped at the feel of warm fingers on his skin, and forced himself to think about where all this was heading, and with whom.  He tugged at Sam’s hair, pulling his head back just enough to break the kiss.  “Sam, stop,” he panted, staring up at his brother with hooded eyes.  “Please, we can’t do this…I can’t do this,” he said, closing his eyes and taking a few deep, steadying breaths as his fingers threaded more gently through Sam’s hair. 


Sam gave a frustrated groan as he felt his brother moving restlessly beneath him, trying to put a stop to what was happening.  “Yes, we can, Dean.  You started this, remember?” He rasped, hands still under his brother’s shirt, massaging Dean’s chest.  “You wouldn’t have kept kissing me like you did,” he growled, pulling one hand out from under Dean’s shirt, cupping the back of his brother’s head and pulling him forward into another quick, demanding kiss.  “Even after the show was over, unless you felt it too.”  Sam panted softly, allowing his brother to pull back.


Dean gazed up at Sam with narrowed eyes, reminded of the other man’s earlier words.  “You said you wanted to know why it felt the way it did…what did it feel like?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, both hands moving to rest on the other man’s hips.  He had a feeling he already knew Sam’s answer, and it would be the same as his own. 


“It felt…right.” The words were whispered softly, Sam’s eyes meeting Dean’s as he gave his brother a pleading look.  The hand that had been on the back of Dean’s neck moved around, fingertip resting gently on the older man’s lips as he parted them to speak.  “I know, Dean,” Sam murmured, closing his eyes for a moment with a pained expression.  “Everything we know says it’s wrong, but I don’t care about any of that right now.  I can’t just ignore this, and neither can you.” He rested his head against Dean’s shoulder, sighing quietly.  “Before you kissed me, I’d never even thought about something like that, now…it’s all I can think about.”  


Dean swallowed thickly, then nodded, letting his cheek rest against Sam’s hair while his hands moved up, sliding under Sam’s jacket to rub his back through the thin material of the younger man’s shirt.  “I know,” he admitted quietly, green eyes sliding closed. “Me too.” 


“Then I say let’s put what everyone else says aside for now,” Sam whispered, before he turned his head, lips latching onto the soft skin of Dean’s throat.  His hands moved once again to the hem of the other man’s shirt, shoving it up to over his chest almost roughly.  “Like I said, I don’t want to think right now, just feel,” he rasped, lifting his head, warm breath fanning over Dean’s ear while his hands moved over the other’s bared chest.  “I want to feel you, Dean…”


Dean groaned at his brother’s kisses, head falling back.  Then he jerked in surprise, eyes opening wide as his shirt was pushed up, causing him to shiver at the cool air hitting his bare skin.  Dean bared his teeth and growled, fighting the urges Sam’s words and actions brought forth.  “Sam!”  He said harshly, only to have his protest silenced when his brother pressed a searing kiss to his lips.   He returned the kiss for a few moments, then jerked his head away, panting heavily.  “No, Sam, stop!”  Dean reached down, grabbing the younger man’s hands and holding them still.  


“Dean, please!”  Sam begged, squirming in Dean’s lap as he tried to pull his hands free.  “You can’t deny that-”


“No, I can’t…” Dean said, eyes closed as he kept a tight grip on his brother’s wrists.  “But we can’t do this.  I feel like we’ve crossed so many lines already, that even without that damned deal hangin’ over my head, I’d be in danger of being dragged down to hell.” 


“Well guess what, I’d end up being dragged down there with you, because you weren’t the only one crossing those lines, Dean,” Sam said earnestly, tilting his head and rubbing the tip of his nose against Dean’s.  “Please, I need you,” he whispered, kissing the other man softly.  “Give me something…” 


Dean stared at his brother with an anguished expression, clearly torn between what he wanted, and what he thought was right.  Finally with an angry sound he released Sam’s wrists, one hand cupping his chin as Dean kissed him again.  This was more like their first kiss, all heat and possessiveness, and it wrenched a low moan from Sam, making Dean smile faintly.  He felt his brother’s arm sliding around his shoulders, Sam’s other hand stroking his abdomen.  With a slight shiver he splayed one hand against the younger man’s chest, rubbing through Sam’s t-shirt and teasing the other man much the way Dean himself had been teased earlier. His other hand released Sam’s chin, slowly brushing down the length of Sam’s torso, then roughly undoing the younger man’s button and fly. 


Sam groaned in triumph as Dean gave in, grinding his hips down harder when he felt his pants being undone, before lifting his hips and moving down Dean’s thighs a little so they could be pushed down.  The arm around Dean’s shoulder tightened while Sam’s free hand slid further down, toying with the button of the older man’s jeans a moment.  Then he lowered his hand further, cupping the bulge of his brother’s arousal, drawing a soft moan from Dean.  His eyes opened suddenly, hips bucking as he let out a muffled cry at the feel of warm, strong fingers slipping into his boxers and curling around his length. 


Dean smirked against Sam’s lips, then groaned, arching and rocking up into the younger man’s hand, shivering as Sam continued to rub gently.  “Dammit Sam, don’t tease,” he growled, pulling back and giving his brother a half-hearted glare, then gave Sam’s length a gentle squeeze for emphasis. 


Sam whimpered, closing his eyes and dropping his head back to Dean’s shoulder, bucking his hips again briefly.  “Okay, okay,” he panted softly, making quick work of the other’s button and zipper, hand snaking inside.  “Hm, missing something, aren’t you?” He chuckled, finding nothing but warm, bare skin beneath the coarse demin. 


“Nah,” Dean scoffed, then shivered as Sam’s fingertips brushed over his cock.  “Just one less layer to worry about when things get interesting.  Speaking of which,” he murmured, waiting for Sam to look up at him before he nodded toward the arm of the couch.  “You might find something down there that’ll make this a little more interesting,” he smirked, pulling his hand away from Sam’s length, chuckling at the whine of protest the younger man tried to stifle.


Sam released Dean reluctantly, leaning over and putting one hand on the arm of the couch.  His other hand slid down around the edge of the cushion, the younger man blinking as he encountered a plastic bottle.  He pulled it out and glanced at it, bursting out laughing as he straddled Dean’s thighs once more, holding up the bottle.  “Jerkins?  You’re still keeping a secret stash of it?”  He snickered, rubbing noses with his brother, then nipping at Dean’s lower lip lightly.  “I haven’t seen this stuff around since we were teenagers.  You used to hide it with your porn collection.” 


“How’d you know about that?”  Dean asked, narrowing his eyes and smirking, hands pushing at Sam’s jeans, moving them further down his hips.  Once they were out of the way Dean reached for the bottle, pouring some lotion into his hand, then reaching down and slicking it over Sam’s shaft before the younger man could answer. 


Sam groaned and closed his eyes, cheeks darkening, breath hitching in his chest as Dean’s fingers wrapped around his cock, sliding up and down the length of it in smooth, sure strokes.  “God…Dean,” he rasped, hands shaking as he reached for the lotion, wanting to return the favor.   He managed, somehow, to pour some into his palm, reaching down and spreading it over Dean’s length, stroking lightly at first, then more firmly as Dean made a frustrated sound, rocking up toward his hand.  “I used to borrow it, when you were out on a hunt,” he admitted, leaning forward and nipping at his brother’s earlobe, the words coming out as a whisper. 


Dean closed his eyes, groaning as he let his head fall back, panting softly.  He smiled a bit at Sam’s admission, speeding up his strokes as his other hand moved down to cup and massage Sam’s balls lightly.  He was rewarded for this instantly when Sam cried out, jerking his head back and writhing in his lap before the younger man captured his lips in a scorching kiss, both hands now sliding up and down Dean’s cock. 


Sam continued to stroke the older man’s length for a few moments, bucking and arching against Dean, then he made a soft, frustrated growl, pulling back and releasing his brother’s shaft. 


“Sam,” Dean snarled, opening his eyes and glaring up at him with half-lidded eyes.  “What the hell are you doin’?”  His hands paused in their task, as the elder Winchester watched Sam struggling with his clothing. 


“You were right about this layer thing,” Sam managed, voice hoarse as he threw his jacket across the room, then nearly tore off his own t-shirt, before reaching for Dean’s.  “Off, now,” he demanded, shoving the offending material up over his brother’s chest again, before leaning down to lick and nip at the bared skin. 


Dean gave a throaty laugh and released Sam’s length, arms coming up over his head to allow his brother to all but rip off his shirt as well.  “Little demanding there, aren’t we Sammy?”  He murmured, hands skimming over the younger man’s chest, pinching his nipples lightly and pulling a soft gasp from Sam, before his hands slid back down between Sam’s legs to stroke and massage once again. 


Sam nodded, moaning as Dean’s hands wrapped around his cock.  “Can’t have you start thinking of me as the bitch in this relationship too, now can I?”  He managed to say, then pressed his chest against Dean’s, shivering at the feel of Dean’s warm, smooth skin against his own.  His hands trailed down over the other man’s sides, before moving further down, long fingers curling around Dean’s length.  


“Too late,” Dean smirked, then groaned, eyes sliding closed at the feel of Sam’s hands started to stroke him again.  He tilted his head and caught Sam’s lips in a bruising kiss, a light sheen of sweat covering his skin as he continued to jerk his hips up into the younger man’s touches. 


Sam gave a sharp cry against Dean’s lips, trembling as he tried to focus on pleasing his brother, even as he felt his own climax fast approaching.  “Can’t…hold on,” he moaned, hands stroking Dean’s length a little faster as his own hips started to buck instinctively. 


Dean was beyond speaking, hovering on the edge of release.  He arched up toward Sam, panting harshly against the other’s lips before he came with a muffled shout of his brother’s name, seed coating Sam’s fingers, some ending up on his own abdomen. 


A split-second later it was Sam’s turn to cry out, a tremor running through his frame as he gasped out Dean’s name.  With a low moan he bucked his hips one last time, releasing into his brother’s hand, then slumped against Dean, breathing heavily, heart racing.  He nuzzled his cheek against his brother’s, then let out a soft sound, parting his lips as Dean turned his head, kissing him gently.  Sam grasped Dean’s shoulders, urging the other man to lay down on the couch, raising himself up off the older man’s legs so he could. 


Dean smiled faintly as he allowed himself to be pushed down onto his back, moving his legs up onto the couch, arms sliding around Sam’s shoulders as the taller man settled on top of him.  He winced when he felt their abdomens touch, creating a rather sticky mess between them.  “And you have the nerve to call me the messy one,” he quipped grinning tiredly, shifting when Sam poked him in the side. 


“You are, most of the time,” the younger man replied with a yawn, sliding his arms around Dean’s waist.  They lay together quietly for several minutes, until Sam raised his head, gazing down at Dean with a troubled expression. 


“What’s wrong?”  Dean asked, knowing this particular look well.  This was Sam’s ‘Oh shit, why didn’t I see that before?’ look, and Dean frowned, tensing slightly beneath him. 


“I just realized something, it should have been obvious, but it all happened so fast I didn’t have a chance to think about it.  Then when we got back here I was kind of…”  He trailed off, blushing a bit as he struggled to get up off his brother, trying to stand on still slightly shaky legs. 


“Distracted by thoughts of having mind-blowing sex with me?”  Dean supplied helpfully, grinning up at his brother as he put his arms behind his head, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he was sprawled on the sofa, shirtless, jeans undone, with his length still visible. 


“Dean!”  Sam sighed, giving the other man an exasperated look before he turned and stalked into the bathroom, shoulders hunching at the sound of his brother’s laughter behind him. He ran some warm water and soaked the washcloth, cleaning himself up quickly. 


“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”  Dean chuckled, sitting up and reaching for the box of Kleenex on the table, making a face at the cool stickiness on his abdomen. 


“Fine, whatever.  The point is I missed something that should have been painfully obvious.”  Sam rinsed the cloth and stepped out of the room, tossing it at his brother before he went to retrieve their shirts, slipping his on and throwing the other one at Dean’s head.  Then he sat down on the sofa and opened his laptop, waiting for it to load before he opened up a search page. 


Dean caught the cloth, starting to wipe himself off.  He scowled as his t-shirt ended up draped over his head, yanking it off and slanting a look at Sam before he did up his jeans, laying the shirt across his lap.  “And just what was that?”  He asked, moving closer to his brother to see the screen. 


Sam bit his lip, trying not to be affected by Dean’s proximity as he typed in a search, then smirked and nodded quickly.  “Uh huh, I thought so.” 


“Yaoi-Con?”  Dean asked, wrinkling his nose.  “Is that the convention those crazy chicks were talking about?” 


“That’s the one,” Sam nodded, looking at Dean intently.  “It struck me as odd that they said they got lost, here, on the way to a yaoi convention.  Dean, think about the reaction we got in the bar, not to mention what the sheriff told us about people’s attitudes toward that kind of thing around here.” 


Dean tilted his head back, eyes closing as realization struck.  “Meaning there wouldn’t be a convention like that around here for miles,” he said quietly, dragging a hand down his face. 


“Exactly.  The nearest one I can find is in the next state over.  I doubt they’d be driving that far out of their way just to end up here,” Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat back, reaching out and setting a hand on Dean’s leg.  “Which means-”


“Which means we got played, big time,” the older man muttered, eyes wide, expression angry as he looked over at Sam. “Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed, rising to his feet.  “He was right there in that bar, wasn’t he?  Watching us, the whole time, and we didn’t even see it.  Man, I can’t believe we got played by a trickster again!”  Dean shook his head, clearly agitated as he paced the room.  “And he got us pretty good.  We couldn’t have gone back there to check it out, even if we did see it sooner.  That sheriff would have started asking questions if we’d hung around, and now it’s too late, he’s probably gone.” 


“Yeah, he must have been.  I mean, come on, you’d be finding this hilarious if it weren’t happening to us.  Two guys walk into a bar, get mistaken for a gay couple, then get accosted outside by yaoi fangirls, chased and smacked with paddles?  Even I would have to agree with you, the guy’s got style.”  Sam smiled faintly, shaking his head. 


“Yeah, fine, he does, I’ll admit that,” grumbled the older man, scowling as he opened the curtains, then folded his arms and stared out the window.  Green eyes narrowed as Dean observed a figure skulking around the parking lot, slowly making his way toward their door.  “Sam, I think we’ve got company…” He shut the curtains and walked over to their bags, retrieving a gun and checking it quickly. 


To Be Continued

Well, I’d say Sam got some answers, didn’t he?  *chuckles* But it just figures, they have a moment of piece (pun intended XD) and quiet, and some idiot has to interrupt it, hm?  I wonder what kind of craziness awaits them now.  Read and review!