Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5500592.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester/Original
      Male_Character(s)
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome_-_M/M/M, Established_Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Top_Sam,
      Sam_is_underage_at_17, Which_is_apparently_over_the_age_of_consent_in
      this_state., Underage_Drinking, Camping
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-23 Words: 7511
****** Too Bad That That's All I Need ******
by OhMyFreddy
Summary
     Dean finds himself press-ganged into an impromptu camping trip with
     his younger brother and their childhood friend. Around the campfire,
     things get heated.
Notes
     My loves, this is just a trope-y mess, but I wanted to write
     something that was smutty and happy to give myself a break from some
     of my more angst-y, in-progress fics. So, I give to you fun, cliché
     porn in a fic where nothing bad happens. Also, holy crap, threesomes
     are hard to choreograph! Enjoy!
See the end of the work for more notes
Spring was just stirring up, and Kentucky was decently pretty through the
windshield of the Impala. It had been nearly a decade since the Winchesters had
visited the farm of Ray Weber, although Dean remembered him fairly well from a
few hunts away from his home since then.
This time, what Ray thought was the ghost of a locally infamous sheriff had
just killed a third person, and with both bones and mementos salted and burned,
Ray was stumped and displeased.
John wrapped up his loose ends in Indiana, and was barreling down Ray’s long
driveway the very next morning.
Despite the pressure Ray was feeling from the hunt, he was all smiles and back
slaps when the Winchesters mounted the stairs to his front porch. Sam endured
comments about how much he’d grown with bashful good grace, and Dean had a
funny, well-used retort ready when Ray commented on how handsome he’d become.
Ray laughed loudly and reached back to open the door for his son, who Dean
could see stepping into a pair of boots through the screen door.
The last time Dean had seen Nathan was when he’d been here at his home. Dean
had been eleven or twelve years old, and Nathan about nine, and Dean was at an
age where, frankly, he found anyone younger than himself to be supremely
irritating. Except Sam.
Nathan really had been a good host, for a kid. He showed Dean and Sam inside
the fragrant, hay-filled barn, allowed them to hand feed apples and dried corn
to an aging, grey mare, and invited them to play with the acoustics of the cold
well in the backyard. But Dean remembered that the boy talked incessantly, and
stuck close enough that the toes of his shoes would occasionally meet Dean’s
heels. And though Sam had been enjoying with smug satisfaction that he was
actually taller than someone older than him, (yeah, it was becoming apparent
that Sam, now seventeen, was probably done with feeling like the short one) he
was accustomed to days filled with relatively quiet activities, and looked like
Nathan was giving him a headache.
Dean and Sam hadn’t been rude to the kid, but Dean kind of wished he’d been
friendlier. Nathan didn’t have any siblings, but he did have a mom. Dean had
met her all those years ago. She was a veterinarian at Berea College, and
worked two weeks there, two weeks home. Somehow managing to fund Ray’s hunts
while staying out of them herself. Dean could admit that some of his and Sam’s
impatience might have stemmed from jealousy. But the three of them were adults
now. Clean slates and everything.
“Y’all remember Nathan,” Ray said, and the Winchesters all smiled and nodded,
putting out their hands to shake. Nathan was still shorter than Dean and Sam,
but no more than most people were. His hair was dark, short on the sides, but a
bit longer with gentle curls on top. For a farm boy, he wasn’t particularly
tanned, but the Webers were one of those stereotypical descendant-from-pasty-
white-immigrants families. Climate could only do so much. Nathan’s eyes were
dark, too, and reflected shyly when Dean grinned and took his turn shaking his
hand.
“Lana, she ain’t home, boys, so while that means we get to blare the TV from
dawn ‘til midnight, it also means a distinct lack of waffles and pot roasts.”
The Winchesters laughed good-naturedly. “I’m sorry, I’m just not cut out for
it. You boys take a load off while I talk to your daddy.”
Sam and Dean followed Nathan’s example of removing the shoes he’d just put on,
and settled with him in the front room where, true to Ray’s word, a football
game was flashing brightly across the screen. Nathan cleared his throat after a
moment. “You guys want something to drink?”
After head shakes and ‘no, thanks’, the three let the television keep their
attention and eat up the awkwardness.
                                      ~*~
                                        
“Now, don’t y’all think that I ain’t fully aware of the luxury of having three
strappin’ young killers ready to attack for me-“ Ray winked over at Dean who
was nodding with exaggerated enthusiasm, “But we’re a way’s away from the part
of this mess that requires taking up arms. Your daddy and I are kicking you
three out for tonight. He ‘n’ I will schlep through the paperwork and red tape,
and you boys can get some bracing fresh air.”
Dean wouldn’t contest Ray’s announcement in front of him, but when he stood
next to John behind the raised trunk lid of the Impala, he hedged, “You’re okay
with both me and Sam takin’ off tonight?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Ray knows where the campsite is; if I need you, I’ll come get
you. Just, Dean,” John stilled Dean’s hand where it grasped the handle of their
cooler, “Do not bring those two boys back hungover and useless in the morning.”
“Yessir,” Dean said. John nodded once, and Dean had his permission to load the
stocked cooler into the back of Nathan’s pickup.
                                      ~*~
                                        
Ray and Lana had plenty of camping gear for the boys to use. Hell, they even
had a pile of chopped and dried firewood; Dean helped Nathan stack part of a
cord into the truck. Sam and Dean nestled their duffles atop the rolled
sleeping bags, then gave a final wave to John and Ray on the porch.
Nathan drove slowly on a rough dirt trail, past a few pastures and into sparse
pine woods. In about fifteen minutes, they arrived at the edge of an expansive
pond, picturesque between the surrounding trees and dotted with ducks. Nathan
parked at the edge of a clearing on the pond’s shore, aiming the back of the
truck to face a well-used fire pit.
The tent they’d brought was made for three, but no one argued when Dean
expressed his own preference to sleep by the fire. They had the truck bed
stripped, the fire blazing, the tent erected, and three fishing poles assembled
before 2:00PM.
Dean inspected the glittery, squishy lure Nathan had passed to him. “What are
we expecting to catch?”
“Bass,” Nathan answered, attaching another lure to the hook on the pole Sam
held steady for him, “Maybe catfish.”
“I’ve eaten catfish. This isn’t dinner, is it?”
Nathan smiled at him. “No. If we catch any big ones, we can put them on ice,
but I brought some things for dinner that’ll be a little less complicated.”
“I don’t think you’re going to be impressed with our skill,” Sam confessed.
“You don’t need any,” Nathan shrugged. He and Sam each took a handle on John’s
green cooler, and joined Dean at the water’s edge.
                                      ~*~
                                        
It was turning out to be the opposite of Dean’s last experience with Nathan.
This time, the more the younger boy relaxed and spoke, the more Dean enjoyed
him. He was polite, but not stiff, and always laughed, blushing only a little,
when Dean told crass jokes. He listened raptly to Sam’s every word, and fit in
seamlessly with the brothers’ natural conversation. After two hours, they had
caught a pair of fish each, though it was only the first of Sam’s that Nathan
deemed fit to keep.
They retreated back to the fire, and stoked it high and bright, even though
they still had some daylight left. Dean passed out beers, and Nathan didn’t
hesitate in accepting one, so Dean let any niggling thoughts about being the
responsible, adult one wisp away. Man could drink on his own property, after
all.
Preparing dinner was mucheasier than scaling and filleting a bucket of fish.
Sam and Dean roasted the traditional hot dogs on sticks over the fire, (Dean
wasn’t too proud to add a few marshmallows to his skewer, and he certainly
didn’t mind the opportunity to watch Sam eat one, gooey and clingy, off of
Dean’s fingers.) while Nathan boiled water over an old Coleman stove. The water
turned out to be for making macaroni and cheese, and Dean and Sam laughed and
shared that this might have been exactly the dinner they’d cooked if they
weren’t here with Nathan.
“The innovative scenery makes up for the uninspired meal, though,” Sam teased.
After cleaning up, the younger boys joined Dean in roasting marshmallows, and
when Dean offered a bottle of whiskey from his duffle to share also, the three
of them scooted closer to one another to more easily pass the bottle between
them.
In a lull, Dean remarked, “Nathan, I understand that your dad doesn’t really
know me and Sam, but you just don’t seem like the type of guy that causes much
trouble when your old man is researching for a hunt.”
Nathan’s mouth twitched up. “No, you’re right, I’m not.”
“Well, I mean, this is fun. I’m havin’ a great time.” Dean slung an arm around
Sam’s shoulders, and Sam nodded in agreement. “But why insist we come out
here?”
Nathan’s mouth shone wet with liquor in the mingled light of the fire and
setting sun. “He thinks that shooting the shit with you two will be the perfect
distraction for my poor, broken heart, I guess,” he deadpanned.
“What happened, man?” Sam asked.
Nathan rubbed his thumb in circles over a frayed seam in his jeans. Sam, who
sat closest to him, offered him the whiskey again. Nathan took a sip and gave
it back. Sam nuzzled further under Dean’s arm, angling so they could both see
Nathan’s face.
“My girlfriend, uh, Ashley, she broke up with me this week, and Dad says I’ve
been ‘mopey’”.
Dean’s shoulders relaxed. “Aw, man, let me tell you, that just leaves you
ninety-nine better problems to focus on.” Dean smirked, and Sam put an elbow in
his ribs.
“Yeah, thank God we have you as a resident love expert,” Sam admonished. Then
his voice turned soft with the tender, sympathetic tone he was learning from
Dad, the honey he was learning to use so well, where Dean was only ever good
with the vinegar. “She was pretty special?”
Nathan took a moment before answering. “It wasn’t serious, I mean, but I
thought it was gonna be. Tonight is, um, tonight is actually my senior prom,”
he grimaced, but continued, “And she had kind of led be to believe that…um.” He
trailed off, gazing into the fire.
Dean picked up, “Dude, you don’t have to say any more. You’re a catch, man. And
this world is full of fine pussy.” That earned him another cold look from Sam.
With some tightness, Nathan said, “Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
Shit. Dean hadn’t meant to, like, trivialize his feelings or whatever. Probably
should have listened to Sam. As usual. Dean kept his mouth closed, and sure
enough, Nathan continued in a frustrated rush. “And it makes me more ‘mopey’
because I’ve been lying to my dad about that ‘Ashley’ is actually ‘Greg’, who
my dad’s known from my basketball team for the past six years, and who, after
four months of planning a ‘romantic prom night tryst’-“ Fuck. Those were some
really angry air quotes. “-Decided this week that I could fuck off, and he
could try one more time to bring himself to screw a cheerleader.”
Nathan’s chest was rising rapidly, and the stroking he’d been applying to the
tear in his jeans had become more of a clawing. He wasn’t meeting Dean’s and
Sam’s eyes.
Dean wanted to try one more time to sooth him, now that he knew enough truth
not to be an ass. “Dude, that’s heavy. Sorry you couldn’t tell your dad.” Sam
nodded solemnly.
Nathan heaved a breath, and the poor kid looked significantly relieved. His
tone was normal again when he answered, “I don’t think he’d freak out or
anything if he knew, he’s just kind of hopeless with anything outside of his
little comfort zone. Right now, hiding this shit from him is just easier on my
sanity.”
Sam passed the bottle back to Nathan, and Nathan returned his smile when he
took it and downed another nip. They sat for a few more minutes in
contemplative silence, then Dean rose and rifled through his duffle to extract
the issue of Ratchet and Wrench he’d bought two gas stations ago. He settled
back down next to the fire with it and the bag of marshmallows. Sam pulled
himself closer to Nathan, and knocked his shoulder against the other’s.
“Greg’s an idiot,” Sam said.
Dean kept his face turned placidly towards his magazine, but he could see Sam
in his peripheral. Sam wrapped his hand around the whiskey bottle, letting his
long fingers overlap Nathan’s, so that they drug across as Sam brought the
bottle to his mouth and took a slow drink, his throat right in front of
Nathan’s face.
“He’s making a huge mistake passing you up.”
Dean couldn’t stop himself from letting his gaze drift up to watch as Sam
changed from staring into Nathan’s eyes through those long eyelashes, to
staring at Nathan’s parted lips, and peeking his tongue out to lick his own.
Dean suddenly recalled the soft lures Nathan had given them to use on the fish.
Nathan was wide-eyed, and Dean should probably put that bottle of whiskey away,
but Sam waited with expert patience.
Sam was poised, frozen, until Nathan drew one inch forward, and Sam closed the
gap between them.
Dean managed to read almost an entire sentence as he tried to give them some
respectful distance. Nathan’s fingers came up to tangle in Sam’s hair, (who
could blame him?) and Sam had a hand wrapped around Nathan’s bicep, pulling him
closer and licking into his mouth. Sam drew away, and moved to trail kisses
down Nathan’s jaw. Dean felt Nathan’s eyes on him immediately, and Dean
couldn’t resist casting him a heated glance and a dirty smirk. At that moment,
Sam turned to look at Dean as well.
“Do you agree, Dean? That Greg’s an idiot?” Sam asked.
Dean got to his feet, abandoning his magazine, and resettled carefully on the
other side of Nathan, opposite of Sam. “I definitely agree.”
Sam had put his hands on Nathan’s chest, and gently pressed him into Dean’s
space. Though Nathan looked utterly stunned, he put his mouth around Dean’s
bottom lip with an excited gasp. Sam mouthed at Nathan’s neck while Dean bit
and licked at his lips, until Nathan gripped his hands eagerly onto one of each
of the brothers’ legs. Sam responded by slipping his hand underneath Nathan’s
shirt. Dean took advantage of the strip of skin Sam had exposed to glide his
fingers over Nathan’s hipbones before stroking them over the denim on his
thigh. Dean inched his hand closer and closer to Nathan’s crotch, and with
Nathan’s kisses coming faster and fiercer, Dean felt confident in carefully
gripping the hard flesh that was stretching taut the front of Nathan’s jeans.
Nathan let loose a moan, and Sam hummed in agreement, letting his hands roam
possessively up and down Nathan, all the way from kneecap to nipple. Sam was
biting Nathan’s earlobe, and Dean whispered into Nathan’s other ear, “Do you
want us to slow down?”
Nathan seemed unwilling to shake his head and dislodge Sam, and instead
breathed, “No, no, don’t.”
“Do you want me to suck your dick?” Dean asked, adding a squeeze with his
question.
“Yes, fuck yeah.”
“Stand up for me.”
The three of them got to their feet, pawing at one another, and Sam lead them a
few feet from the fire, to the back of the truck. While he unlatched and
lowered the tailgate, Dean eyed Nathan as he followed his little brother. Even
completely aroused, with his face flushed, the boy didn’t wobble or stumble,
except for maybe a bit at the end, where he leaned into Sam’s chest for another
kiss.  The edge of the tailgate was digging into Sam’s lower back, but he
didn’t seem to mind, letting Nathan explore his mouth before spinning him
around to face Dean, who had come close to watch.
Dean put his hands on Nathan’s chest, and drug them down his stomach and hips
as he went to his knees. Nathan watched, mesmerized, as Sam’s hands came around
from behind, alighting on his torso and dragging down the very same path Dean’s
had. Dean had stopped his hands at Nathan’s thighs, but Sam’s stopped higher,
at the waist of his jeans. Peering over Nathan’s shoulder, Sam made quick work
of Nathan’s belt, button, and fly, and held him close with one hand while the
other reached inside his briefs to pull out his cock.
“Mmm, Nathan,” Sam breathed, pulling a stroke down his length. Nathan groaned,
letting his head fall back onto Sam’s shoulder. He snapped it forward again
when Sam firmly aimed his dick outward.
Dean licked his lips, staring up at the boys, and opened his mouth wide. Sam
rested the tip of Nathan’s cock onto Dean’s tongue, and then rolled his own
hips, pushing Nathan inside.
“Oh, god,” Nathan stuttered.
Nathan’s cock was just like the rest of him. Not as large as Sam or Dean, but
smooth and pretty, with soft skin covering a hard interior, and Dean found that
it fit nicely against his throat. Dean kept his suction gentle, but still took
him deep and long, letting his lips touch the top of Sam’s fist where his
little brother held him like an offering. Nathan had one hand on the back of
Dean’s head, riding the motion of his bobbing. His other hand was twisted over,
behind him, to grip the back of Sam’s head. 
Dean could see Sam whispering into Nathan’s ear, both pairs of eyes bright with
lust. He watched Sam guide Nathan by the chin to kiss him again, but they
couldn’t keep their attention off Dean for long. Sam loosened his hold on
Nathan’s dick, but left his hand on him, extending out his fingers to caress
Dean’s lips as they slid over Nathan’s shaft. Sam continued his whispering, and
Nathan started nodding, his hips hitching helplessly farther into Dean’s mouth.
The motion didn’t hinder Dean, but he pulled away anyway, and asked, curiously,
“What are you two talking about?”
Sam smirked, “That entrancing mouth you have.”
Dean came back to his feet and put his forehead against Nathan’s, enjoying the
way the boy still panted with nothing touching his cock. “You enjoying what I
do with it?”
Nathan nodded, rubbing his nose up and down Dean’s cheek as he tilted to taste
himself on Dean’s lips. Dean leaned back, separating them, then turned his face
toward Sam. Nathan’s eyes darted cautiously between the brothers. Dean grinned
at Sam. “Yeah, you like it, too, don’t you?” Dean crashed his mouth against
Sam’s, making sure to not spare his tongue or the show. He sucked on the tip of
Sam’s tongue where he knew Nathan could see it, and reached for his cock,
gripping the head and smearing saliva and precome over it with his thumb.
Nathan whimpered at the sensation, but Sam held him close and upright.
Dean released his brother with a smack. He directed his attention back to
Nathan. Oh, the poor kid looked completely overwhelmed. His eyes were wide open
and liquidy, staring at Dean and Sam like they’d put him under a satyr’s spell.
He had one hand roving urgently over the muscles in Dean’s back, and appeared
to be applying the same motion to Sam’s. God, he was something else. Way to
stroke a man’s ego.
“You know, Sam’s even better with his mouth.” Dean sunk again to his knees, and
took Nathan’s dick back between his lips.
Sam had Nathan by the jaw again, kissing him feverishly, but this time, Dean
could hear when Sam said, “Let me eat your ass.”
“Sam, Jesus,” Nathan hissed, and from the way he bucked eagerly against his
palate, Dean thought he seemed enthralled by the suggestion.
Nathan hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and underwear, fumbling a
little, as Sam had his face occupied again. Dean reached up to help, sliding
them down to his ankles and turning Nathan’s body to the side in one smooth
motion. Dean resettled on his knees in the new position, having given Sam the
space to crouch down behind Nathan.
Dean peeled off his overshirt and asked, “What do you think the chances are of
us getting interrupted?”
Nathan started shaking his head. “It’s our land all the way to the highway. And
we’re too far out from the house to walk,” he answered quickly. “My dad’s Jeep
is nearly as loud as your Chevy.” He gripped the collar of Dean’s t-shirt in a
loose fist, so Dean helped him remove it from over his head.
Sam guided Nathan to tip forward, and Nathan braced one hand on Dean’s bare
shoulder, and pressed his other palm against the cool tailgate. Dean sucked a
kiss into Nathan’s hip, gripping Nathan’s ass and spreading him open for Sam.
Dean couldn’t see Sam, but knew from Nathan’s shuddering groan when Sam’s
tongue found its mark. Dean was put in a position that wasn’t exactly the most
comfortable for sucking dick, so when Sam’s hands covered his, Dean slipped
free, allowing Sam to knead and pry at Nathan’s ass. Dean put his own hands to
work elsewhere, stroking wet up and down Nathan’s cock, and gently rolling and
tugging at his balls. Nathan’s hand began an ascent up Dean’s neck and into his
hair. He scratched and gripped and gasped above Dean.
When Dean felt the back of Nathan’s balls dampen with Sam’s saliva, he extended
a finger until the tip of it met the bottom of Sam’s tongue. Sam immediately
abandoned Nathan in order to suck the digit into his mouth, soaking it.
Together, they pressed tongue and finger to Nathan’s slick hole.
Dean leaned back to look at Nathan’s face, but before he could ask permission,
Nathan was pressing Dean’s head back toward his cock, pleading, “Do it, do it,
please.”
Dean wrapped his mouth once more around the head of Nathan’s dick as he slipped
the tip of his finger inside. Nathan’s dirty moan only encouraged Dean to go
deeper, to slowly press his finger in to the knuckle, to tilt his head to slide
further down his dick. Sam’s tongue was lapping steadily at Nathan’s rim,
caressing and wetting Dean’s finger as he pumped it in and out.
Dean jerked when Sam’s hand suddenly grasped his straining hard-on through his
jeans, demonstrating his mounting impatience by riling Dean. Dean slipped his
finger free, and reached up to press Nathan more upright. It forced Sam to
hunch to continue his ministrations, but the younger boy bent with ease, and
Dean couldn’t resist reaching between Nathan’s legs to touch the long stretch
of Sam’s neck.
Dean looked up and caught Nathan’s gaze. Nathan took Dean by the face, trying
to tug him up for a kiss, but Dean was already impressed with the kid’s
restraint, and he was ready to push him off the precipice. He resisted Nathan’s
pulling, and pumped his cock in his fist. “Come in my mouth,” he said.
Then Dean pulled out his stops, taking Nathan’s dick in his mouth to the base,
tonguing the slit when he pulled back, tightening the suction when he drove
forward. Nathan was shaking with it, but both Sam’s and Dean’s hands kept him
on his feet. Nathan moaned loud and long right before halting stock-still and
shooting down Dean’s throat.
Then it was, “Fuck, ohshit. Dean.Oh, my god. Fuck.”
Sam was on his feet, cradling Nathan’s back against his chest before Dean even
licked his lips clean. Dean rose to join them, and pressed his bare chest
against Nathan’s shirt. Instead of giving him the kiss he’d wanted earlier,
Dean opened his mouth for Sam, letting his younger brother taste the bitterness
that lingered on his tongue.
Dean’s erection was scraping against Nathan’s hip, but it was Sam who’d started
this operation, and it was Sam who got to drive.
Dean put a kiss on Nathan’s bottom lip, “Lemme just grab a little water,” Dean
said to him.
He sauntered to the cooler, sliding a hand inside his jeans to readjust his
aching dick, then detoured to his bag as he pulled a sip from a bottle of
water. It didn’t take much digging to locate a little bottle of lube and a
condom, and he tucked both into his pocket. He turned back to watch Sam.
Sam had his hands rucked up under Nathan’s shirt, the motion of them indicating
that he was toying with the older boy’s nipples. Over the crackling of the
fire, Dean could hear Sam murmuring, “God, your ass tastes so good. Can’t
fuckin’ believe that prick would pass up the chance to get his mouth on you.”
Sam bit at his earlobe and growled, “My gain, though.”
Nathan reached behind himself, and pressed his hand to where Sam was grinding
his cock against his ass.
“Get it out,” Nathan begged.
Sam released him to do just that, pushing his jeans and shorts down to his
thighs, and Nathan spun to face him, wrapping his hand around Sam’s bare dick.
He smeared the slick Sam was dripping over the head and down its length, making
Sam’s long cock glisten in the firelight. For a moment, he seemed fascinated
with watching it appear in and out of his fist, and listening to Sam praise him
and moan against his neck. Tentatively, he took his own dick, hardened back to
full capacity in no time, and closed it up in the same fist that held Sam. He
gasped at the friction.
“Fuck me,” he demanded breathlessly of Sam. His head turned toward Dean and his
eyes roved lasciviously over his naked chest. “One of you. Either. Fuck me.”
Dean dropped his bottle of water and picked up his sleeping bag, where it lay
rolled next to the boys’ tent. He strode back to the truck, and dumped it in
the bed before getting his hands back on Nathan and Sam. He helped Sam to rid
Nathan of his shirt, then Sam removed his own. Dean piled their discarded
clothes into a makeshift cushion on the tailgate, and climbed up. He propped
his back against his tightly rolled sleeping bag, and was quite comfortable.
Sam was on his knees, giving the occasional lick to Nathan’s dick, but mostly
wrestling his feet out of his boots and pulling off his jeans. Sam got him down
to naked, except for the socks, and then Nathan pliantly allowed Sam to guide
his feet back into his unlaced boots.
“No lingerie?” Dean teased, swinging his legs back and forth impatiently off
the tailgate.
Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled at Nathan. “Cold, wet feet turn Dean on, so we
can try that next time.” Nathan chuckled, than gasped when Sam gave another
suck to his cock. Sam then surged upwards to give a suck to his bottom lip.
Dean reached forward and put his hands under Nathan’s arms. Together, he and
Sam positioned Nathan on his back, between Dean’s legs. Nathan’s knees were
bent, with his ass and the heels of his boots on the edge of the tailgate. Dean
cradled his shoulders against his stomach, and pawed at his hair, neck, chest,
and stomach as they watched Sam peel out of his jeans.
The firelight backlit Sam angelically, haloing out from behind his head,
through his hair, and reflecting off the light sheen of sweat on his shoulders,
arms, and sides. Without preamble, Sam bent forward, and his mouth disappeared
below Nathan’s testicles. Nathan jerked in Dean’s arms, letting loose a punched
out whine. Sam’s hand appeared, his palm pressing and rolling Nathan’s balls,
his fingers caressing the vein that ran the underside of his cock. Nathan was
holding on with his hands on Dean’s thighs, but he lifted one when Dean slid
his hand under it, lacing their fingers together tightly. Nathan’s hips were
rolling minutely, and every other one of his breaths was coming out as, “Sam.”
Dean used his free hand to tease and pull at Nathan’s nipples, and that earned
him his own name moaned from between Nathan’s lips. Dean watched as a bead of
precome welled at the tip of Nathan’s cock, and ground his own erection into
Nathan’s back as the drop caught a sparkle from the flames and dripped onto his
stomach.
Sam rose up, and put his eyes on Dean. Dean manhandled Nathan over a bit to get
into his front pocket, and pulled out the lube and condom. He laid them in
Sam’s reach, where Nathan could see them. Sam reached for the lube and popped
the cap.
“I’m gonna open you up.”
Dean couldn’t see what Sam was doing, but he knew the routine well. The heat
inside Dean’s pocket would have warmed the lube nicely, and Sam would probably
have been able to slip two fingers into Nathan’s hole with little resistance.
Sam would carefully slide those fingers in and out, twisting around and
spreading apart.
The tailgate sat a little too high for Sam to reach Nathan’s mouth, but he
curled over him to lay kisses on his stomach and chest, biting for a moment on
a nipple that Dean framed between his fingers. Then Sam turned his eyes to
watch Nathan’s face, and Dean held him closer.
“Yes, there!” Nathan hissed. He jerked in time with the motion of Sam’s fingers
coaxing across his prostate. Dean knew Sam didn’t need much direction, the kid
was, good lord, the kid was a fuckin’ master. Knew how to turn a grown man into
a trembling, needy cockslut with one hand, and, whoops. Dean loosened his grip
a little, where Nathan’s knuckles were whitening.
No, Sam didn’t need a road map, but he responded immediately to Nathan’s words.
“Yeah, baby, tell me what you want, tell me what feels good.” Sam licked at the
slick running down Nathan’s twitching dick. “I want you to love this.”
That didn’t seem to be a problem. Nathan was tossing his head around, scrubbing
his soft hair across Dean’s chest. He took a shuddering breath and said, “God,
Sam, just- ahh! More. Another.”
Sam must have obliged, and it sent Nathan’s body into a slow, languid roll. Sam
stretched him steadily, and Dean held him whenever Sam’s precise fingering
caused him to convulse. “Slower,” he requested, but Sam only got in a few
strokes at the adjusted speed before Nathan breathed, “Again. One more finger.”
Sam withdrew to apply more lube, and Nathan panted toward the underside of
Dean’s chin as Sam slid four fingers inside him.
Dean pulled his own fingers through Nathan’s hair, guiding it away from his
forehead where sweat was making it cling. “God, you look delicious,” Dean
muttered, and Nathan actually blushed further.
Sam pushed and stretched until Nathan’s breathing had steadied some, then
removed his fingers and pulled Nathan’s calves until his legs dangled from the
tailgate. Dean guided Nathan upright, and Nathen tipped forward further to wrap
his arms around Sam’s neck and put his tongue in Sam’s mouth.
They pulled apart for air, and Sam asked, “You’ve done this next part before?”
Nathan shook his head against Sam’s forehead.
“You want to with me?”
Nathan nodded eagerly and sought Sam’s mouth again. Dean could see where
Nathan’s hand was headed, and sure enough, Sam groaned as Nathan wrapped his
fist around Sam’s cock. Sam hooked his chin over Nathan’s shoulder, and though
Sam had been the most gentle and generous lover, the look he gave Dean was
utterly predatory, triumphant and lecherous. Dean put a hand to his own aching
dick, and Sam followed the motion with his eyes, licking his lips lewdly.
Sam pulled Nathan off the tailgate and onto his feet. Dean scooted forward to
occupy the space at the edge as Sam steered Nathan to face Dean. Sam pressed at
his shoulders, bending him forward over Dean’s lap. Dean pulled at Nathan’s
hands to position them so that he could brace himself on Dean’s thighs.
But, Nathan’s hands slid higher, his fingers threading through Dean’s belt
until he had it open. He popped free the button, and slid down the zipper, and
only then did Dean lift his hips to give him the room to shimmy his pants down
a bit. The color was high in Nathan’s cheeks, and he didn’t meet Dean’s eyes,
just reached in his boxers to take out his throbbing cock, and wrapped the pink
head in his hot, wet mouth.
It took every ounce of control Dean possessed not to thrust up into the clutch
of Nathan’s throat. He looked away to seek some small distraction, but all
there was was Sam, wearing nothing except the smug smirk of a man whose mission
had been orchestrated flawlessly. Fuck, Dean had no idea what a conniving,
splendid, powerful, glorious slut of a brother he was raising. Goddamn, why did
Dean get so fucking poetic when his brain was in his dick?
“Nathan, fuck,” he groaned, and was satisfied that that didn’t sound lyrical or
romantic at all. Nathan pulled at Dean’s cock with the confidence of someone
who had done it before, but not with the finesse of someone who had much
practice at it. What he lacked in skill he was making up for in enthusiasm,
though, and Dean didn’t want to reach the finish line before watching the main
event.
He carefully pulled Nathan up and off. Nathan starred up at him, and Dean bit
into his own lower lip. “You’re gonna put me out of commission,” he explained.
Sam once again removed his hand from where he’d been slowly fingering Nathan
loose, and tore open the condom. He secured it in place, and ran his hands
decadently over Nathan’s back. “You ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” Nathan breathed into Dean’s lap. It must have been loud enough for Sam
to hear, though, for he pressed forward with focused intensity. Nathan was
quivering, clutching tightly onto Dean’s jeans. Dean could see his ribs expand
and contract as he breathed evenly. Sam gave shallow and slow thrusts of his
hips, until he was flush, balls against Nathan’s ass.
All of Sam’s patient prep work had paid off swimmingly. Nathan had the side of
his head pressed against Dean’s open thigh, his teeth bared, but the expression
on his face was one of pure ecstasy. Sam could see it, and he was grinning like
an idiot, but, ever polite, he asked, “Nathan?”
“Saaaammmm,” Nathan growled, and so Sam drew back and drove home again, pumping
in earnest. Dean pet through Nathan’s hair, trying not to distract him from the
sensation of Sam pulling in and out of his slick channel. “Oh- fuck-. That’s-“
he was barking in time with Sam’s thrusts. “God. Fuck. That’s so fuckin’ good.”
Sam sped up and increased his force until Nathan was emitting only a low whine,
his fists clenched into Dean’s jeans, before slowing to an achingly slow grind.
Nathan responded with his hips, pushing them back in search of more friction.
Sam stopped, and pulled Nathan upright, off Dean’s lap, still impaled on his
cock.
Oh, now there was a view. Dean had ruffled Nathan’s hair into artful tufts, and
his swollen lips and red-flushed skin made him look fucking succulent. Nathan
reached behind himself and grabbed a handful of Sam’s ass. Sam reached forward
to clasp Nathan’s testicles in his hand. As if on cue, another drop of Nathan’s
precome fell to the ground before Dean’s eyes. God, the kid got so wet.
Dean watched as Sam held Nathan still, and gave one slow thrust, angled
specifically.
Nathan trembled, moaning with his mouth agape.
“C’mon,” Sam whispered. “Let’s go forward.”
Sam kept Nathan tight against his chest, tight onto his dick, but shuffled them
a couple steps closer to Dean. Before the tailgate could collide with Nathan’s
navel, Sam pulled him to a stop.
Sam trailed his mouth from Nathan’s shoulder to his earlobe, and muttered
there, “Let me watch you suck his cock again.”
Nathan opened his eyes and met Dean’s. He nodded, already licking his lips to a
slippery shine.
Sam asked Dean, “Up on your knees?”
Dean obliged, positioning himself so that his knees were padded on the pile of
their shirts, and let his jeans and boxers slip further down his thighs.
Nathan put his hands on Dean’s backside, and squeezed luxuriantly before taking
one of his testicles in his mouth.
“God,” Dean choked, and when Nathan moved on to the second one, “Goddamn.”
When Nathan realigned his lips with the head of Dean’s dick, Dean put one of
his hands over Nathan’s and instructed, “Just tap out if you need to stop.”
Nathan didn’t respond, just started a snug glide down Dean’s shaft.
Dean wasn’t going to last like this, not with Nathan growing bolder and taking
him deeper and deeper. Not with Sam keeping up a litany of praise. (“Fuck, you
look incredible with that big cock stretching your mouth. Almost as perfect as
this tight, luscious ass around me. Shit, you feel so good.)
Dean managed to gather his wits about him when he watched a tear escape from
Nathan’s eye and trail down his cheek. Nathan hadn’t paused in his slow massage
of Dean’s ass, but still, Dean cautioned, “Easy, Sam.”
Sam slowed, but still pressed deep, and Nathan began to shake his head, more
tears spilling over his face.
Dean gripped Sam, bringing him to a full stop, and Nathan popped off of Dean’s
dick, coughing. That made Sam bite down hard on his lip. Nathan kept shaking
his head, then twisted it around to look back at Sam.
“No,” he gasped, “Don’t go easy.”
Nathan sucked Dean down, trying to maintain some kind of rhythm as Sam pounded
into him, dragging the head of his cock unerringly over Nathan’s prostate.
Dean had to admit, watching this pretty virgin twink cry on his and his
brother’s cocks was the most erotic thing he’d done all year.
And that was it, Dean had reached his limit. He threaded his fingers through
Nathan’s hair, and guided him through a few final thrusts. He pulled Nathan
off, drawing him to the side, and held his head  out of the way, against his
thigh.
Sam didn’t waste a second. He leaned forward, bending over Nathan’s back, and
took Dean’s cock to the base. Sam slid up and down on his brother’s dick,
twisting his tongue into a dirty curl on the back stroke that had Dean taking
him by the back of the head to slam him to the hilt. Dean spilled with a scream
down Sam’s throat, and he cried out again and again as Sam swallowed around
him, squeezing every drop out of his sensitive cock.
Dean’s head was swimming as Sam pulled off, and the next thing Dean was aware
of was that the strong grip Nathan had on his ass was the only thing keeping
him upright. Dean released both of the boys from where he had them by the hair,
and Nathan allowed him to slump back onto his heels. Dean and Sam were both
panting, and a tentative cloud of anxiety crept between them as they turned
their attention to Nathan, to gauge his reaction. Dean understood, really.
Kissing and tag-teaming were one thing, but the whole-
“Fuck, you two have ruined me,” Nathan groaned, and ground his ass down on
Sam’s cock, before leaning forward to lap at Dean’s spent dick.
Dean laughed, relaxing, and moved out of Nathan’s reach. He hitched up his
pants and tucked his cock back inside.  Quickly, he repositioned his sleeping
bag so that he could recline against it once more, and laced his fingers behind
his head to watch the boys’ finale.
Nathan braced himself with his hands on Dean’s shins, but Sam still held him
high and close enough that Dean could see when Sam wrapped his hand around
Nathan’s dripping dick.  Sam was thrusting hard and fast now, stroking Nathan
in time. Nathan was humming and gasping each time Sam hit home.
“Nathan, please. Come for me.”
Sam jerked Nathan’s cock, once, twice, and Nathan moaned, shooting ropes of
come between the brothers. Dean bit his lip and ignored the way his dick
twitched as pearly white drops landed on the tailgate between his feet.
Nathan slumped forward, letting his head land on Dean’s knee, and clung to him
as Sam set a jackhammer pace. Then faulty rhythm, a stream of swear words, and
Sam shook as he held tight to Nathan’s hips, whining Nathan’s name as he rode
out his orgasm inside of him.
Nathan gave one wince when Sam pulled free, but let Dean immediately kiss it
from his face, and was turning to Sam, slack-jawed and satiated, when he
returned from disposing of the condom. Sam held him tenderly, rubbing his nose
through Nathan’s sweaty hair. Dean slid off the tailgate, in search of those
baby wipes they’d used before dinner, but Sam grabbed him and hauled him back.
Dean kissed his little brother reverently, letting his hand slide all the way
from Sam’s shoulder blade to the curve of his ass.
“Love you,” he murmured into Sam’s mouth, and finally pulled away.
He passed out wipes, and Sam and Nathan carefully cleaned one another of sweat
and lube. Dean cleared the pickup of their evidence. If he had a nickel for
every time he’d cleaned jizz off of a car…
The three of them dressed for sleep, and Sam didn’t ask permission before
moving Dean’s sleeping bag from the truck’s bed and unrolling it inside the
tent. Nathan stoked the fire again, then sleepily crawled onto the center
sleeping bag. Sam and Dean crowded close around him, and after Nathan pillowed
his head on Dean’s bicep, Dean knew nothing until morning.
                                      ~*~
                                        
Dean’s stretching jostled Nathan awake, and Dean peered at him closely, nose to
nose.  Dawn was barely illuminating the interior of the tent, and the two of
them blinked slowly to keep the other in focus.
Dean knew last night’s whiskey hadn’t been enough to get Nathan drunk, but
sometimes the light of morning, no matter how softly it filled a space, could
make one reevaluate his choices.
Nathan sighed, and extracted his arm from the depths of his sleeping bag. He
encircled Dean’s waist, and tucked the top of his head under Dean’s chin.
Dean was itching for a cup of coffee, but he found that could stand one more
hour in the warm tent.
                                      ~*~
                                        
When Dean woke again, he was certain it was Sam’s faint snoring that had roused
him. He kissed Nathan’s head, and crawled to the entrance of the tent to pull
on his boots. He looked back inside before he zipped it closed, to see Sam
cough himself awake enough to roll onto his side and pull Nathan’s back into
his chest.
There wasn’t really a way to set up the stove and percolator quietly, so Dean
hadn’t even poured his first cup before he heard shuffling and groggy voices
inside the tent. When giggling started, Dean rolled his eyes, but perked his
ears up with interest when the smacking and humming that accompanied kissing
reached him a moment later.
Before enough time had passed for it to get arousing, however, the buzz of the
zipper announced Sam’s emergence. Sam leered at Dean like the fox that caught
the field mouse, and Dean could only shake his head and scrub a hand over his
mouth. Sam crept over and settled against his side, smirking.
“Am I too much for you, old man?” he asked lowly.
“Nah. I always knew I’d go to Hell with you.” He kissed Sam leisurely. “I’m
just trying to come to terms with you leading us there.”
                                      ~*~
                                        
It was an hour later, Nathan was tossing marshmallows for Dean to catch in his
mouth, and Sam was dumping packets of sugar into an aluminum cup of coffee,
when the rumble of Ray’s Jeep echoed into the clearing.
It was John who climbed out of the driver’s seat and greeted the boys. He
refused the cup of coffee Nathan offered, and complimented Sam’s bass when Dean
held it aloft to show him.
“Get in,” John called to them, motioning to the Jeep. “Turns out Ray was lying
about serving cold pizza for breakfast.” He pried Sam’s cup from his hand.
“Let’s get you some orange juice, son.”
Sam scowled with approval as John dumped his cloying concoction onto the
ground.
The Jeep’s engine was masking the sound of their growling stomachs when John
said, “Ray and I still haven’t gotten to the bottom of this haunting yet. You
boys fine with camping out here one more night?”
Obediently, the three of them chorused, “Yes, sir.”
                                      ~*~
                                        
End.
End Notes
     Title is from Troye Sivan’s “TOO GOOD”. Please ask or tell me
     anything, my angels!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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