FiercelyNormal (fiercelynormal) wrote,
FiercelyNormal
fiercelynormal

Fic: What Happens in Vegas - Sam/Dean - NC-17

Title: What Happens in Vegas
Characters / Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2723
Summary: What SHOULD have happened during the Sacred Annual Vegas Pilgrimmage
Warnings: Here be porn, and not much else.
Author's Notes: Written for my best friend tebtosca for her birthday. Love ya, bb!!


“All right, Sammy, let the good times roll!” Dean grinned widely, his almost childlike glee enough to make Sam duck his head to hide his indulgent grin. Vegas was never really Sam’s thing; he wasn’t much of a gambler, didn’t generally drink to excess, and half-naked girls running around on a stage really didn’t do much for him. But he loved the happy look in Dean’s eyes when they were in Vegas, lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and that was more than enough for him to continue with the tradition of Vegas Weekend. Except for a couple of dark years that he preferred not to think about – ever – they’d always come to Vegas for one weekend during the year. One weekend where they didn’t hunt, didn’t think about things like demons and hunters and betrayal and Hell. One weekend where they could pretend to be normal.


Now that that weekend was here, Sam had every intention of keeping that cheek-splitting grin on Dean’s face for as long as he possibly could. So he would suck it up and gamble, drink and watch risqué shows for as long as it took to keep Dean happy. This was the one time of year that Sam really could do something just for Dean, just to make him happy. Starting right now. Grabbing a stool at the worn blackjack table, Sam pulled Dean down next to him and handed him some chips. “Knock yourself out.” Sam said, ignoring the surprised look on Dean’s face and tossing his own chips down to place his bet. He hardly paid attention to his hand, more interested in watching Dean.


He was always more interested in watching Dean than anything else, he acknowledged to himself. Had been since way back before he even knew what it meant. Sometimes he was able to forget about what he wanted and just be a normal kid brother, but more often he had that burning want simmering just below the surface, ready to boil over at the slightest provocation.


Three hours later, they were up a couple hundred bucks and down several beers. Finally abandoning the blackjack table, they ambled down the street with the loose-limbed walk of the truly relaxed (or slightly drunk). At one point Sam slung his arm over Dean’s shoulder companionably and, when Dean didn’t immediately shove him away, he left it there, taking secret pride in the knowing looks he got from a couple of the girls on the street.


Sam guided Dean into a slightly seedy but busy strip club, pushing him towards the back of the room, close to the stage. After ordering them both a couple drinks he excused himself, ostensibly to go to the bathroom but stopping for a short word with the waitress on his way by. Returning to his seat he sat back and enjoyed the slightly glassy smile on Dean’s face as he watched the stripper on stage wrap herself sinuously around the pole. A few minutes later, Dean’s attention was redirected when a hot-looking blonde sashayed up to him and began giving him the lap dance Sam had arranged with the waitress. The gleeful look on Dean’s face was worth every bit of the pinching jealousy Sam felt watching the blonde moving over Dean, as close as Sam wanted to be. But watching the flush of arousal stain Dean’s freckled cheeks and seeing his tongue come out to wet his lips was a reward in itself. And Sam indulged himself, not looking away, even when Dean’s eyes darted over for a routine “How’s Sammy” check.


When he noticed Sam staring at him so intently, Dean’s eyes widened fractionally in surprise, and then inexplicably darkened, the heated flush on his cheeks growing even pinker. His breathing quickened and his tongue came out again to wet his full lips, and Sam barely bit back a groan. And Dean didn’t look away, even when the girl increased her motions, trying to draw his attention back to her. Finally Dean shoved a couple of large bills at her, not even looking at the denomination. She shrugged and wandered off in search of more interested prey.


Still not breaking eye contact, Dean stood up and stretched widely, his green Henley riding up and drawing Sam’s eyes to the sliver of flesh revealed there. Sam wanted to lick that thin line of bare flesh so badly his mouth watered. When the shirt lowered again he raised his eyes back to Dean’s, who gave a very fake-looking yawn.


“C’mon Sammy, I’m beat. Time to go back to the motel.” Sam just nodded mutely, knowing his voice would betray his need. Throwing down a bill for the beers, he followed Dean out of the bar, his eyes drifting lazily over his brothers’ back and down to his ass. When Dean glanced over and caught Sam looking, he smirked a little and Sam’s heartbeat quickened a little at the knowledge that Dean definitely did not look disturbed by Sam’s interest, that he might actually be returning it.


The short walk back to the motel – a slightly classier version of their regular accommodations in honor of their sacred Vegas Weekend – passed in a blur of half-formed hope and erotic musings for Sam. Very quickly they reached the door of the motel and as he twisted the key in the lock he felt Dean’s heated breath on the back of his neck, making him shiver. His cock, already oversensitive from watching Dean’s aroused face back at the bar, hardened fully in an almost painful rush and he sucked in a breath. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not but he thought he heard a faint laugh from Dean.


They’d no sooner gotten through the door and closed it when Dean pushed Sam back against the solid surface, bracing an arm on either side of him so that Sam felt caged. It shouldn’t have turned him on so much, but God did it ever.


“You liked watching me get all wound up back there, didn’t you, Sammy?” Dean growled, leaning into Sam’s space like it was his right.


No sense trying to hide it, not with his cock reaching out like it was trying to shake Dean’s hand.


“Yeah.” He admitted. “I liked it. I liked seeing you like that.”


“How long?” Dean demanded, and Sam didn’t have to ask to know what the question meant.


“Long time,” He mumbled. “Forever, maybe.”


“Ah, Sammy,” Dean groaned, and then his lips were crashing down on Sam’s, the kiss hard and frantic. Dean’s lips were even softer than Sam had imagined all those years, the plush lower curve luring Sam in to test its give with his teeth. Reaching up to grip the back of Dean’s neck Sam took control of the kiss. Spinning them around so that Dean’s back was against the wall, he pushed his hands under Dean’s shirts and gripped his sides, feeling the ridges of Dean’s obliques against the palms of his hands. He dug his thumbs in a bit and smiled inwardly when he felt Dean jump a little; his brother had always been a little ticklish there, even when they were kids.


And thinking about his brother was so dirtybadwrong that it made Sam’s cock get impossibly harder. It was seriously fucked up, but considering the state of his psyche these days that was probably the least fucked up thing about him so he was willing to live with it.


Pulling away from the kiss reluctantly Sam pushed Dean’s shirts up over his head and tossed them to the floor. His own quickly followed, and when they were both shirtless he pushed Dean back towards one of the queen sized beds and down to sprawl over its soft surface. Bracing himself over Dean’s prone body he pressed his bare chest against Dean’s, feeling the hard little nubs of Dean’s nipples pressing against his own pecs. He shifted his weight a little just to feel the drag of delicious friction before dipping his head to run the edges of his teeth down the tight tendon at the side of Dean’s neck. Dean shivered and moaned softly, increasing in volume when Sam bit down none-too-gently at the spot where the curve of his neck met his shoulder.


Sam dropped his hips down to grind against Dean’s; their hard cocks straining against their jeans while they resumed kissing, bringing their mouths together in a battle of lips and tongues and teeth, the smacking sounds filling the room along with their groans. It felt so painfully good that Sam was almost tempted to just bring them off like this, making out and coming in their jeans like teenagers, but he’d waited so long to have Dean like this that he wanted more. He wanted everything.


Finally pulling away to gasp for air Sam took the opportunity to roll off Dean and strip off his jeans and underwear, then reached over to do the same for Dean, who just lay back and watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, lifting his hips helpfully when Sam nudged him. When he finally had Dean naked Sam sat back on his heels between Dean’s legs and looked his fill. Of course he’d seen Dean naked; living in each other’s pockets like they did it was impossible not to. He’d even seen him hard before; watching porn was one of Dean’s favorite hobbies, after all, and the man was certainly not shy about his body. But this was the first time that Sam was allowed to look his fill, to look with intent and he took full advantage of the opportunity.


Dean’s body was beautiful, honed from years of hunting and digging graves. He had lost that touch of softness that he’d acquired during his year of self-imposed domesticity, and Sam fought the temptation to lean down and lick the definition of his abs. Later, he’d do that later, he consoled himself. But right now he was so hard he hurt, and judging from the way Dean’s cock was pressed tight against his lower abdomen he was guessing Dean was in much the same shape.


“Have you ever…” Sam’s voice trailed off awkwardly, not sure how to ask.


“Yeah, Sammy, couple of times,” was the response, and Sam didn’t know whether to be jealous of the unknown men or happy that Dean knew what he was getting into. He’d deal with that later as well. Gripping Dean’s legs behind his knees he bent them up and back towards Dean’s chest.


“Hold ‘em there,” Sam ordered, and Dean’s pupils dilated as he did what he was told, gripping his own knees with slightly trembling hands so that he was split open to Sam’s view. Leaning forward Sam drew the hard point of his tongue wetly up the smooth patch of skin behind Dean’s balls. Dean jerked a little and Sam placed his hands over Deans’ on his knees to keep him open. Moving up a few inches he sucked one of Dean’s balls into his mouth, laving it with his tongue before releasing it with a pop. Dean groaned, and Sam smiled at the sound. Repeating the action on the other side, he moved back and forth between them until Dean’s moans were almost constant.


Finally he slid his mouth back down and without preamble closed his mouth over the inviting pucker of Dean’s ass, sucking hard before spearing his tongue wetly into the tightly furled hole.


“Fuck, Sammy, you’re so dirty.” Dean, panted, his hips thrusting up to meet the pressure of Sam’s mouth. “It’s so hot.” Sam had to agree as he wiggled his tongue, trying to get it as far up Dean’s body as he could. Running his finger around the tight rim, Sam got it wet with his tongue before thrusting it deep into the tight channel. Dean arched up against Sam as he pulled the taut rim open with his finger, creating a wider space for his tongue.


Sam got Dean as wet as he possibly could, knowing that he had nothing else to slick his way. He thrust two, then three fingers into Dean’s body, spreading them as wide as the tight muscle would let him, knowing that it wasn’t enough to fully prepare Dean for his cock but it was as close as they could get. When the muscles were loose enough that he knew Dean could take him he pulled back. Spitting into his hand he slicked his cock, already wet with his own precome. Gripping his cock hard by the base he slowly pushed it into his brother’s tight hole, groaning at the drag of hot friction on his oversensitive glans.


Dean tensed a little as the head finally popped through the first ring of muscle, and Sam stilled, heart beating so heart he thought Dean would be able to hear it. He waited for long seconds until Dean relaxed around him with a shuddering sigh and nodded that it was ok to go deeper. Sam pushed forward slowly, so slowly, feeling the snug hot channel encase him a millimeter at a time until he was buried balls deep in Dean’s body. Dropping his head down until his forehead rested against Dean’s he whispered, “OK?” Dean looked up with the with a smirk and said, “I’m not a delicate little flower, Sammy. It’s good.”


Sam swooped down and captured Dean’s lips with his own as he started moving, slowly pushing in and pulling back with a rhythm that built upon itself. After several minutes he slowed down when he felt he was getting too near the edge because he wanted it to last, but Dean wrapped his legs around Sam’s hips and thrust up with such insistence that Sam resumed his forceful thrusting, pounding into Dean’s body as deep as he could get, grazing Dean’s prostate with the ridge of his cock head on each pass. Dean’s cock was leaking steadily between their bellies, but neither of them were touching it; Dean was gripping Sam’s biceps, digging his fingers into the muscles so hard Sam knew he’d have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow and he was fiercely glad for it. Pulling away from the kiss he pushed up on his hands so that his weight rested even more heavily on his hips, driving himself even deeper into Dean’s body as he felt himself approaching the point of no return.

“Come on, Sammy, come in me, fill me up,” Dean was panting, and the image of filling Dean’s ass with his come was enough to push him over the edge and he thrust impossibly deep and held there, coming in hot jets into Dean’s body. He stayed motionless as his body shook with the aftershocks, then slowly pulled out.


For a moment he watched the slow drip of his come out of Dean’s ass and thought that might just be the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life. Scooping the dripping come up on the edge of his finger he thrust it back inside Dean, back where it belonged, as he bent his head down and sucked Dean’s thick hard cock into his mouth. Dean’s hips arched up as Sam crooked his finger and rubbed the tip against the small smooth bump of Dean’s prostate, and then Dean was coming, filling Sam’s mouth with the essence of his release.


Sam continued licking and sucking at Dean’s softening cock until it became too sensitive for Dean to bear and he pushed Sam away with a laugh, “Enough, dude!” and Sam slid up Dean’s body to kiss him, sharing the last taste of Dean’s release with him.


They slept together that night, and the night after, taking each other over and over again until they were too sore and sated to do more than lie back on the bed and watch the baseball game. Dean would probably deny to his last breath that they were cuddling but…yeah. And when the weekend was over and they drove away in the Impala, leaving the bright lights of Vegas behind them, Sam turned uncertainly to Dean.


“So isn’t the rule, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?” Sam held his breath.


“Sammy, when have I ever followed the rules?” Dean grinned, and Sam knew – they were in this thing, together, all the way.
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