Spoilers: none, takes place pre-series
Warnings: incest, language, underage (Sam is 14), kinks: oral, public sex
Word Count: 1,505
Summary: Written for this prompt at spnkink_meme: Weecest, public sex. Dean makes Sam suck his dick in a theater. Totally consensual.
A/N: Title is from the movie "Titanic". It's okay, just trust me on this one?
Sam can be a persuasive little brat when he wants to be – unleashing those wide, earnest eyes and that sweet, hopeful smile that Dean’s never been able to resist. The movie is just starting when they quietly make their way toward the corner of the back row of the nearly deserted theater. Dean barely pushes the armrest up before Sam’s practically in his lap, those soft, warm lips pressing against the curve of his jaw and his eager, grabby hands clutching at his shirt.
“Hey,” Dean whispers. “Easy, Sammy. I heard this movie’s like three and a half hours long.”
Sam sighs quietly – just a barely-there huff of indignation – but he sits back in his seat anyway and turns his attention to the images on the screen. A few long moments stretch between them, long enough for Dean to start wondering if Sam actually honest-to-God wanted to see ‘Titanic’ with him on Christmas Eve. He leans in close to bring his lips to Sam’s ear and asks, “Did you actually wanna watch this?”
“Do you?” Sam replies, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen to meet Dean’s questioning gaze.
It drives him absolutely crazy when Sam does this – answering his questions with questions – but Dean only hesitates for a second before replying, “No, not really.”
It takes a second for him to realize that Sam doesn’t respond because he’s busy climbing onto his lap again, settling down with his ass against Dean’s thighs and his knees pressed to the seat on either side of Dean’s waist. “Yeah, me either,” Sam whispers. He smiles faintly as he reaches up to slide his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone, then leans in to press a gentle kiss against his lips.
It’s been a while since they’ve had any time alone – Dad’s been stuck at home with a bad shoulder for a couple of weeks – and Dean can’t help but smile at his brother’s enthusiasm. One of his hands is clawing at the nape of Dean’s neck and the other is squeezed tight around his shoulder. He’s twisting his tongue hard against Dean’s, alternately dipping into his mouth and licking inside his lips and along his teeth. Dean curls his arms tighter around Sam’s waist and slips his fingertips under the hem of his brother’s shirt, rubbing the pads of his fingertips over the warm, sensitive flesh just above the waist of his briefs.
They haven’t gone much further than this – kissing and touching and rutting against each other through their clothes – but Dean’s suddenly emboldened by the darkness and pushes his hand under the elastic, teasing gently along the cleft of Sam’s ass. Sam bites back a moan and tilts his head back, eyes slamming shut, catching his bottom lip firmly between his teeth.
“Oh God,” Sam whispers, sounding nearly frantic. “Please, Dean. Please?”
Dean ventures a bit further, sliding a single digit along the crack until he reaches his brother’s twitching hole, and just presses the pad of his fingertip against it, swirling a bit, teasing for a few seconds before pulling away.
“We will,” he promises. It’s on the tip of his tongue to add, “someday” but he doesn’t say anything else, just smashes his lips to Sam’s again to swallow down the tiny whimper that escapes his brother’s mouth.
Sam slides his hands down to rest on Dean’s shoulders and shifts his hips, grinding his crotch hard against Dean’s. The burst of pleasure – dampened by too many layers of material – is a bit of a relief, but not nearly enough. He drops his free hand down to rest on Sam’s hip, tugging him closer, wordlessly trying to guide his movements, to increase that delicious press of friction. Sam is just as hard as Dean is; that much is obvious despite the denim and cotton separating their stiff, aching lengths.
“Anything, Dean,” Sam pants, pulling away enough to sweep his eyes up to Dean’s. “Whatever you want.” The promise behind his words is enough to shoot a violent tremor of anticipation down Dean’s spine, sending sparks of pleasure blooming under his skin.
“Want your mouth, baby,” Dean whispers softly, almost apologetically. “Want you to suck me off.”
Sam hesitates for just a second before climbing off of Dean’s lap and sliding gracefully to his knees between Dean’s spread thighs. His hands are trembling as he pops Dean’s fly open and drags the zipper down, then tugs at the waist of Dean’s briefs to let his cock spring free. He’s been hard and leaking for so long that his balls are kind of starting to ache, but he’s oddly detached from the sensation as his eyes sweep over his brother’s face.
Sam’s breaths are coming in ragged bursts through kiss-bruised lips and his eyes are dark with want, barely concealed by the too-long fringe of bangs falling over his forehead. He reaches out and gently rubs his finger through the trickle of pre-come leaking from the slit, then traces that fingertip along the prominent ridge, smearing the moisture around the shiny head before finally wrapping his fist tight around the shaft. He’s balanced precariously on the edge of innocence – caught on the border of now and forever – when he licks his tongue around the tip and then dips his head down, sucking the head between his lips.
Dean’s eyes fall shut and he chokes back a moan, hips trembling against the urge to buck up into that satin-soft heat. He forces his eyes open and drops one hand to gently push Sam’s hair away from his face, tucking the strands behind his ear as Sam slowly sucks him down all the way. It’s amazing – better than anything he’s ever felt before – and Sam’s not even really doing anything more than just holding him there in his mouth.
“Sammy… fuck…” Dean whispers, letting his thighs fall further apart when Sam starts to move. He’s tentative at first, just sort of bobbing his head a little and letting Dean’s cock slide in and out of his mouth as a result of the movement. He gets the hang of it soon enough though, covering his teeth with his lips and hollowing his cheeks a bit, creating the perfect amount of pressure and friction that sends stars shooting across Dean’s vision.
He threads his fingers through Sam’s silky-soft hair, unconsciously rubbing against his brother’s scalp as Sam continues to move. Dean lowers his eyes and has to hurriedly look away at the much-too-arousing sight of Sam’s lips stretched wide around his saliva-slicked cock as he works it messily in and out of his mouth. The images moving on the huge screen surrounding them are nothing more than a blur of colors and shapes, but when Dean drops his gaze again, he catches the unmistakable motion of Sam’s arm moving between his own legs in the same rhythm with which he’s working Dean in and out of his mouth.
The implicit visual is enough to send Dean tumbling suddenly and uncontrollably toward his release. He chokes out a half-formed warning and pushes at Sam’s shoulder, grunting with relief that Sam has the presence of mind to pull back slightly so that he doesn’t choke. He keeps his lips wrapped tight around the swollen crown though, working his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves beneath the head, sliding it up, down and around the pulsing slit as Dean shoots hot and hard into his mouth.
Sam keeps on sucking gently, finally letting Dean’s softening flesh slip out of his mouth when the sensation is just about to become too much. Dean blinks hard – admittedly a bit shocked that this actually just happened – and bites back a quiet moan when Sam’s Adam’s apple bobs a couple of times and he licks his shiny-pink lips a second later.
“Oh God,” Dean supplies helpfully as he grabs Sam under the armpits and hauls him back up into his seat. “Fuck, that was so awesome.”
When Sam grins and leans over to press a kiss against Dean’s lips, his spent cock twitches at the taste of his own salty-sweet release on his little brother’s tongue. He pulls away after a few moments, peering down into Sam’s lap where his jeans are undone and there’s a small spot of moisture darkening the material just under the elastic. His cock is still hard and throbbing – the prominent outline of the head trapped beneath tight cotton sure doesn’t leave much to the imagination – but Dean still asks softly, “Did that turn you on, little brother? Sucking my dick?”
“Hell yeah,” Sam breathes.
“D’ya wanna get outta here?” Dean asks softly. “Maybe we can drive somewhere… find a place to park.” His eyes flicker back up to the screen and he considers the images there for a moment, hoping vaguely that it’s not too late to disassociate the sound of Celine Dion’s voice with the most intense orgasm he’s ever had.
“Uh uh,” Sam murmurs. “We’re only like an hour in. We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet."