Title: We’ll Be Having Some Fun
Warnings: Watersports, Underage (Sam is 17), Cursing
Notes: Hi All. This is the first thing I’ve ever written. I guess I’m starting kinky. This is un-beta’d so all mistakes are mine. (and there will be mistakes)
Summary: Dean has too much to drink and Sam thinks its hot.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or any part of Supernatural and I am not making any money from this.
It is turning out to be a great day. Not all the boardwalk shops and bars are open yet, its still too early in the season. But the weather has been unseasonably warm and hundreds of people have been making a day of it. Dean acts disappointed that the girls are wearing jeans and t-shirts, instead of bikinis, but Sam knows Dean’s comments are meant mostly to bug him. The two of them haven’t been together for long and are still in the ‘there’s nobody else but us’ phase. Actually, that’s probably more than a phase considering that most of the time it really is just the two of them. But things have been better all around since they gave into the inevitable. Even the gnawing dissatisfaction with their vagabond life and the increasingly violent tension between Sam and his father has lessened. And today… today things are great.
The two of them are sitting under the overhang of an outdoor bar and, because at 17 Sam’s height makes his fake ID believable, both have a bottle in hand. Dean won’t let Sam have more than two beers, especially since Dad is ‘home’ tomorrow, but Sam doesn’t mind just sitting here, with Dean, nursing his beer and enjoying the beach views. It feels like something normal people would do.
“No bikinis, man that’s just wrong”
Sam rolls his eyes and swigs his beer. Dean knocks back his sixth beer in an hour and grins at Sam, eyes bright and teasing.
Sam doesn’t take the bait. “Look on the bright side Dean. It’s gonna start raining at any minute and then you’ll be surrounded by hundreds of wet t-shirts”
“Mmm, wet t-shirts. It doesn’t get any better than this.” Dean signals for another bottle.
“You might want to take it easy dude. Dad won’t be any happier about you having a hangover than he would me.”
Dean’s look says to lighten up, but he also asks the bar tender for a bottle of water. Together they turn on their stools to people watch in the fading evening light.
The first few drops of rain give way to a deluge and the bars and shops immediately fill up with laughing, soggy people. There are definitely plenty of wet chests to admire. The indoor and outdoor areas of the bar soon become uncomfortably crowded, even with nearly naked boobs. Dean settles their tab and they leave more abruptly than planned.
Outside they are immediately soaked and the unseasonable warmth doesn’t really carry over to being drenched at twilight. They turn toward their motel and begin the thirty minute walk back to the room.
Walking side by side Sam notices when Dean starts walking slightly hunched with both hands jammed in his jean pockets.
“You that cold, man?”
Dean gives him a sheepish grin. “We left a little faster than I planned. I gotta piss like a racehorse.”
Sam laughs and shoulder checks him. “I told you to slow down.”
“Shut up bitch”.
They walk in companionable silence. After seven beers Dean is only a little unsteady. The street lights at the edge of the boardwalk are starting to flicker on and those shops which are open are brightly lit and now full of people. There are only a few others braving the downpour. Its several minutes before Dean speaks again. “Fuck Sam, I really gotta piss. We need to find someplace before we get back to the motel.”
Sam turns, ready to tease his older brother, and sees how strained Dean appears. His whole body is tense, there is a slight flush on his cheeks and he is looking for any place not right out in the open.
Dean snaps a glare at him.
“Alright, alright” Sam looks around too. “There’s some stairs down to the beach, we can get under the board walk from there” Sam takes the lead and they head towards the steps and street light. At the top of the steps Sam is surprised by a straggling group of teens, careening up towards them. They return his grin as they laugh and shriek their way to the shops. Sam is two steps down before he realizes Dean isn’t following. He steps back to Dean who is still standing under the street light, head down, hands fisted in his pockets and full blown blush across the tops of his cheeks. Because of the weather is takes Sam a moment to realize that Dean is actually pissing himself. This close, Sam can easily see the darker stain of ‘not rain’ spreading at Dean’s crotch and rapidly making its way down his legs.
Sam steps closer. Firstly, because he is just as protective of Dean as Dean is of him and though the rain makes it impossible for anyone farther away than Sam to know what is happening, he still wants to block the view. Secondly, Sam is suddenly, blindingly, hard.
Well that’s new.
They stand there silently, watching Dean pee. The crowds are only background noise now, Sam is nearly bursting through his jeans and Dean is still pissing. Even with the rain Sam can see when it starts to flow over Dean’s boots and puddle in the existing water. Sam has to grab his cock to keep from coming right then. Dean sees the movement and his eyes snap up to Sam’s. Sam can see the embarrassment there but speaks before thinks.
“Jesus Christ, that’s hot.” Dean’s eyes widen. The truth of that statement must have shown on his face because some of the mortification leaves Dean’s expression. Sam steps closer, his gaze super heated. “Wanna suck you off, man. Now. Gotta suck you now.”
Dean stands there, face flushed, staring at Sam. His stance relaxes as his bladder finally finishes emptying. He’s still obviously embarrassed but now there is a curious component to his gaze. Sam is starting to pant.
“Sammy! You’re a little freak aren’t you.” Dean actually smirks and Sam is kind of in awe of how Dean can do something as embarrassing as wet his pants, in public no less, and still end up teasing Sam.
The awe is overshadowed by pure need. “Not so little Dean and this freak wants your cock down his throat. Right. Fucking. Now.”
Dean’s look turns dazed. He clears his throat. “Yeah… um, under the boardwalk right?”
Sam grabs Dean’s wrist, pulling his hand out of his pocket, and dragging Dean behind him. They are down the stairs and under the boardwalk in seconds. It is blessedly empty underneath and Sam is immediately on his knees opening Dean’s pants. He gets even harder when he feels piss warmth instead of rain cold. He pulls Dean through his soaked underwear and swallows him down. He can taste the bitterness and feels Dean lengthen and harden as he licks and sucks. Dean is making small noises and has his fingers in Sam’s hair. God Sam loves doing this, loves that Dean will actually let him do this. Sam pulls off with a pop. He can smell the acidic scent and fumbles with his own jeans, yanking his dick out.
“Fuck my mouth, man. Fucking fuck my mouth”
Dean’s grip on his hair tightens as he pushes his cock back into Sam’s waiting mouth. He begins to snap his hips forward picking up a rhythm. Sam relaxes this throat and moans around Dean’s dick. He is furiously fisting himself. God, this is heaven, Dean’s length pushing down his throat, Dean’s voice in his ears, the scent of Dean’s piss in his nostrils and the taste on his tongue. He comes hard and fast, surprising himself, and Dean follows a few moments later.
They flop into the damp sand afterwards, breathing hard and leaning into one another.
When the temperature finally forces them to move Sam stands, grabs his softening cock, and pisses into the sand.
“And that’s how is supposed to be done, dude.”
Dean smacks him in the back of the head.
As they return to the boardwalk bound for the motel, Sam steals glances at Dean. “Dude, we have GOT to do that again sometime.”
Dean throws him a look. “Next time you can be the one to piss yourself, bitch.”
Sam laughs. It’s been a great day.