Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8689372.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Established_Relationship, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Pre-
      Canon
  Collections:
      Sinful_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-10-03 Words: 1853
****** Nothin' Finer Than A Diner in Caroliner ******
by Sam1Dean [archived by sinfuldesire_archivist]
Summary
     Directly following Objects in Mirror Are Larger Than They Appear
Notes
     Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally
     archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began
     importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in
     November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on
     Sinful_Desire_collection_profile.
The boys sat side by side in the booth because John had brought some of the
more non-descript books inside with him to keep researching while they ate and
took a well-deserved break in the air conditioning. Dean couldn’t help shooting
daggers into the side of Sammy’s face as his younger brother flatly ignored
him, or so he thought.
 
“Well, what are you boys having?” John asked conversationally, his face in his
own menu. He smiled. “The usual Dean?”
 
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with knowing what you like.” He replied with a
shrug.
 
“That is so true.” Sam said as he reached his hand over, and while never taking
his eyes from the menu, laid his big hand on the front of Dean’s jeans.
 
Even Sam was surprised at the weird sickly kind of choked moan that came from
Dean’s throat. John looked up. “Dean? You sure you’re all right son?”
 
Dean gulped back a number of responses, not the least of which would have been
a punch to Sam’s solar plexus, and came up with, “Just not feeling that well
Dad.”
 
“Maybe it’s the heat Dean.” Sam suggested. “Maybe you should go splash some
water on your face.”
 
“Good idea Sam.” John said, turning back to the books. “We’ll order your burger
for you.”
 
Dean shot Sam a venomous look until he met Sam’s eyes where he saw the
opportunity that Sam was presenting them. “Yea.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe
you guys are right.” Dean pulled himself up from the booth and headed towards
the men’s room.
 
The waitress came over then, watching Dean’s retreating back appreciatively.
“What can I get for you boys?”
 
Sam ordered a cheeseburger and fries for his brother and a grilled chicken
salad for himself. John ordered his own meal and then buried himself back in
his books. After another moment Sam excused himself to go check on Dean, but
wasn’t even sure if his father noticed.
 
When he reached the bathroom he was mildly surprised to see the ‘Closed For
Cleaning’ sign up on the door. “Dean?” He called tentatively as he pushed
through the door. As soon as he was inside the room, Dean reached across with
his right hand pulling Sam in and pinning him up against the wall with that
same forearm across his throat. There was a wicked little grin on Dean’s face
as he met Sam’s gaze and slammed the door’s deadbolt home. Sam wasn’t exactly
sure he liked that little grin and as usual realized too late that it wasn’t
always a good idea to tease his brother. “Dean. . ?”
 
“You’re a wicked little tease Sam.”
 
“Dean look. . .” Sam tried again.
 
Dean opened first Sam’s belt and then his own. “Oh, I need some lip service
from you Sammy, just not a long winded explanation.” Dean growled low in his
throat, more sex than menace, Sam was happy to hear.
 
It was difficult to talk with Dean still pinning him to the wall by his throat
so Sam’s voice came out a choked croak and not his usual baritone. “How am I
going to suck your cock if you crush my windpipe Dean?” Dean’s eyes slid shut.
Sam knew Dean couldn’t resist when he talked dirty and Sam used it to his
advantage as often as possible. “Or do you just want to suck my come off my
fingers?” The pressure on his throat lessened. “I can do that for you Dean. I
can jack off just for you so you can lick my hands clean. I can make it a good
show for you.”
 
“Oh there’s already been too much showing Sam, not nearly enough doing.”
 
Dean adjusted his hold against Sam’s chest taking the younger chin in his
strong hand and pulling him in for a crushing kiss. “Why Sam?” Dean mumbled
around their battling tongues. “Why do you have to make it so hard?”
 
“Me?” Sam growled, pushing Dean off him. “I’m stuck in the back of a hot car by
myself, listening to your shit music and Dad muttering away about something
nobody gives a fuck about with nothing to think about except how much I love
you and how much I just want you all the time and you turn your come-fuck-me
eyes into the mirror,” Sam gasped for breath as Dean gaped at him in surprise.
Sam’s voice was barely a whisper when he continued. “You don’t know how hard it
is to be in love with you.”
 
And then Dean’s pent up anger and frustration all melted away as he looked into
the deep pools of his brother’s sexy eyes. True, it had been Sam who had made
that first move, but it was an answer to Dean’s deepest dreams that this thing
between them actually became solid and not just some fixation Dean would take
to his grave. It was real though, and tangible and Sam’s first relationship and
maybe Dean’s last, but Sam was a sixteen year old kid and Dean wasn’t too old
to remember what level of hell that could be when you walked around half loaded
all day.
 
“I’m sorry Sammy.” As far as empathy goes, it was a pretty poor effort, but it
was all Dean could come up with.
 
“Don’t be sorry Dean.” Sam whispered. “I just love you so much. I don’t want to
have to hide out in some dirty diner bathroom for a quick blow job.”
 
“What . . ?” Dean started; pretty sure that this had been Sam’s idea.
 
“I mean I know that’s what we have to do.” Sam emphasized, leaving no doubt
that his grilled chicken would be chilled chicken before he got back to it.
“But I just want so much more.”
 
“I know Sam.”
 
“Do you?” Sam cut him off.
 
“What do you mean?” Dean frowned.
 
“I mean, is this what you want, or don’t you want something normal?”
 
Dean sighed. Right now he really just wanted to get back to the aforementioned
blowjobs. “Sam, I know you think that I will do anything for you just to keep
you happy, but there are lines that people just don’t cross unless they want
to. And you’re good Sam, but I’m not with you because I can’t get it anywhere
else.”
 
Dean watched as those hazel eyes processed what he was saying and some of his
sixteen-year-old insecurities melted away. Finally a small smile played across
his lips. “Do you want me to stop talking now?”
 
Dean grinned from ear to ear. “Fuck yes.”
 
Sam took Dean’s face in his big hands to pull him into one of the sweetest,
most sensual kisses that Dean could remember. “I love you.” Dean was about to
respond when Sam dropped to his knees on that dirty tile floor. Dean had gotten
their belts undone, but no further before the crazy emotional interlude and
even though said emotional interlude might have distracted his upstairs brain,
Dean’s downstairs brain was still screaming at him. Sam slowly opened the
button as he mouthed and nibbled on Dean’s hard cock right through his jeans.
Everything Sammy did was sexy, Dean thought, but holy God! His head fell back
causing a dull thunk against the tile wall behind him.
 
“Ow. Fuck!” Sam chuckled, but took the moment of distraction to yank the zipper
down and get most of his mouth over Dean, cotton briefs and all. There was a
low moan from Dean, but he seemed fully aware of where he was and kept his head
in the game. “Damn it Sammy. “Don’t make me beg.”
 
Sam pulled his head back and looked up at his brother. “Don’t get bossy or I’ll
leave you right here.”
 
“No you won’t.” Dean smiled. “You can’t get enough of me, remember?”
 
There was a long moment of snotty-little-brother-fuck-you-I’m-not-doing-what-
you-say attitude when Dean thought he might just have pushed his hand too far,
but then there was a sly smile from Sam and while Dean’s eyes were locked on
his he, not too gently, removed Dean from those offending briefs. “And aren’t
you glad?”
 
After a couple rough strokes Sam opened wide and swallowed Dean whole. He
moaned low in his throat. “You better fucking believe I am.”
 
Sam wanted to take his time, wanted to taste and touch and feel, but in the
back of his mind was the stopwatch counting down the time they had been away
from the table measured against how long it would take John to figure out they
had been gone too long. So instead of time, he had to content himself with
remembering everything he could. Not that he could ever forget. Sam was pretty
sure that he had completely memorized everything about Dean, from the soft heft
of his balls up the sensitive ridge on the underside to the silky smooth
texture of the perfect head. He knew Dean’s scent and taste and every moan that
came from those beautiful Cupid’s bow lips so when he heard Dean keen just so,
he knew how close he was. He wrapped his hand around the base of Dean’s shaft
and concentrated just on the head for a moment, kissing, licking, sucking,
tasting. Dean’s hands wound themselves into his hair and pulled almost
painfully. “Sammy, don’t do this baby, don’t torture me.”
 
Baby. Why did Dean have to call him baby? Sam didn’t react to the dirty talk
the same as Dean did, but that simple endearment, maybe the sweetest endearment
did something to Sam that Dean might never know, or he might figure out sooner
rather than later. Sam took his hands and held Dean’s hips to the wall and
began bobbing his head up and down Dean’s eager prick with clear relish. Dean
couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight as Sam’s lips got puffy and the
saliva ran down his chin. The wet sucking sounds went straight to Dean’s balls
and the hands in Sam’s hair tightened once more.
 
“Sammy, I’m gonna . . .” But Sam already knew. He drank pulse after pulse of
Dean’s come finally leaning back with a contented sigh wiping his chin on the
back of his hand. He tucked Dean back into his briefs and did his jeans back up
before standing to do his own belt back up.
 
“What about you Sam?” Dean asked. He might play the part, but Dean wasn’t as
selfish as he let on.
 
“No time.” Sam answered. “Dad’s bound to be wondering pretty soon.”
 
Dean stroked his cheek affectionately. “Are you sure?”
 
“Don’t worry about me Dean. I’ll be okay.” He smiled. “Are we okay though? Are
we even now?”
 
And then that devilish smile that Sam really didn’t like returned. “I don’t
know Sam. Maybe next time it’ll be my turn to tease.” Dean took Sam’s lips in
his own and kissed him long and hard before he snapped the deadbolt on the door
and disappeared back to the table, calling back, “Wipe your face, will ya?
You’ve got a little something on your chin.”
 
Sam braced himself with both hands on the sink and looked at himself in the
mirror. “I am so boned.”
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