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Taking Care of Business	By : rue37 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4056 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Taking Care of Business
- 1
Title: Taking Care of Business
Author: ruefulgirl
Words: about 3000
Pairing: none, but some het
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sam, Dean and some hot sweaty masturbation
action.�
Author�s note: Written for the September 3^rd rounds_of_kink challenge, but posted here as a little treat
for my friends � and because I�m wildly impatient.� Beta�d by jasmason.

They�ve just torched the corpse of a nasty old undertaker
and stumbled back to their rented kitchenette covered in ectoplasm, and Dean
grabs the first shower.� He�s pumped up
on adrenaline like usual, and like usual he only wants to do two things
afterward:� drink and get laid.� Sam, however, is tired and sore and hungry,
and while drinking and getting laid hold some interest for him, having some
quiet time to relax without his attention-deficit brother around sounds even
better.� So Sam escapes into the shower
as soon as Dean heads out the door for the nearest skanky
dive, smelling of aftershave.� He spends
his time in there, cutting his toenails and checking for ear hairs without Dean
bitching at him to get the hell out of the bathroom already.
Later, after Sam has wasted several hours watching re-runs
of Gilligan�s Island and the world sumo wrestling grunt-off in a kind of
mesmerized horror, he shuffles into the kitchenette to scrounge for food.�
The drenching in ectoplasm has kind of spoiled his appetite
for dinner, but crackers or cookies or some other kind of junk food sounds good
right now.� Unlike most every place
they�ve stayed, this room actually comes stocked with spices,
soup mix, and� hold on there a minute � a small bottle of olive
oil.� He just stares at it for a long
moment, unable to think because all of the blood in his brain plummets in the
direction of his dick.� There�s also this
uncomfortable tightness in his throat (and how weird is it to be both sad and
turned on at the same time) because he�s remembering he and Jess in the kitchen
of their old apartment, him peeling garlic and Jess tossing it into a frying
pan with just this brand of olive oil while they tried to make shrimp scampi
without the butter.� In the end, they
burned the garlic and cooked the shrimp so long it shriveled into tiny white,
chewy lumps.� Then Jess playfully doused
her fingers in the olive oil and let them walk down Sam�s chest and into his
shorts.
They�d ended up making love on the floor.�
He closes his eyes for a moment, remembering the sight of
her on top of him � her perfect white breasts and curvy hips, her red red lips pressing kisses down his chest, soft and teasing, then
opening just wide enough to slide over his cock. She�d been so good at giving
head, her skillful tongue sliding and laving and tormenting him �
His dick is waking up now, reminding him that he hasn�t been
laid in � oh, what feels like years � hasn�t even jerked off in nearly a week
and what�s up with that?� Dean might not
even be back until morning.� Carpe diem.��
Sam turns off the TV and all the lights save for a lamp near
the bed with a dim bulb.� Taking the
olive oil with him, he lies down on the bed, and thinks about that time in the
kitchen.�
He splays his hand across his stomach where it rests on
tight muscles there, moving up and down in time with his quickening
breath.� Under his shirt, he ghosts his
hand over his skin back and forth gently, teasing lightly, like Jess used to
do.
It�s not the same.
Lifting his hips, he shimmies his briefs down to reveal his
half-hard cock.� He unscrews the bottle
of oil and pours a little pool of it in his palm.� This is not the time to skimp on
lubrication.� He lets it spill across his
cock, smoothing it up and down the shaft to keep it from dripping all over the
bed.� Slick sensation envelopes him.� A few firm strokes bring him fully
erect.�
Looking down, he sees his red, engorged cock, veins standing
in relief, slit widening as he grows harder.�
The oil glistens as it covers the length of his dick, spreading over and
around the ridge of the head.� It feels �
yeah, it feels so good.� Warm and hard and not as heavenly as Jess�s sweet mouth, or even
someone else�s hand, but it�ll do.�
His strokes speed up and the familiar build up toward orgasm begins deep
in his balls.
Out in the hall, someone bumps against the door, cursing and
grumbling.�
He freezes, thinking: It�s
just some drunk stumbling by and fumbling at the wrong door.
Except that the fumbling sounds an awful lot like a key in
the door.
Shit!� Not now, please not --
The door bursts open and Dean barrels
his way in, calling out, �Sammy!�
Sam-may, my boy, whatcha up to--�
Sam jams his dick back into his briefs and yanks the corner of
the bedspread � which he was unwisely laying atop of � over his jutting
erection.�
He�s breathing hard and there�s no way � no frickin� way �
that Dean won�t figure out what he�s been doing.� Sure enough, Dean�s eyes go wide for an
instant, followed almost immediately by a knowing smirk.
�Sam, you horny devil, you.� Caught you jacking off, didn�t I?�
Oh, God.� Could this
be any worse?� Dean will never let him
live this down.� Sam feels his face
burning up.� He puts his hand�the other hand�over his eyes and groans in
sheer, abject humiliation.
Dean makes his way in between the two beds and flops down on
his with a grunt, sending a whiff of JD and some bimbo�s perfume over Sam.� That�s when Dean notices the olive oil
sitting on the bedside table and cocks an eyebrow at Sam knowingly.� �Kinky bastard,� he grins.
�Dean!� Sam cries, mortified.�
�Now don�t be like that, Sam.� It�s not like you never caught me choking my
chicken.�
As a point of fact, he hasn�t
ever caught Dean in the act before.�
Sure, he�s heard him jerking off in the shower,
or late at night in the darkness when he thinks Sam is asleep.� But he�s never actually walked in and saw his
brother entertaining Rosie Palm and her five little helpers like Sam has been
doing.
Dean leans back, fingers threaded behind his head, looking
entirely too satisfied with himself.� He sighs, that half-drunk, relaxed,
well-fucked sigh he has when he�s tired and happy.�
�Sorry for interrupting, Sammy.� If I�d have known I would have waited out in
the hall for what?� Three
more minutes?�
�Dean, I don�t
want to talk about this.�� His voice
sounds squeaky.� Yet
another thing to be embarrassed about.
�No reason to be embarrassed.� You think I don�t know you jerk off?� Hell, you�d have to or your head would
explode or something.� I mean, how in the
hell long has it been since you�ve been laid, anyhow?�
Six months and four days.�
But who�s counting?
�Look,� Dean says.�
�I�ll make it up to you.�
Sam slides him an incredulous look.� �Yeah?� How exactly are you going to do that?�
Dean gives him an easy smile.� He�s always like this when he�s had too much
to drink � outgoing and affectionate.� And talkative.� �I�ll
roll over and you can go back to what you were doing,� he says in what he
probably thinks of as greatness of spirit. �I promise not to peek.�
�What?�
�You heard me.� I
mean, seriously, Sam.�� He�s talking
slower than usual, more carefully.� Which is how Sam knows he�s hit the bottle too hard tonight.� �It�s just not healthy to go so long without
sex.� Not that I�ve ever tried it, mind
you, but I�ve read about how it can mess your plumbing all up.�
�Yeah?� And let me guess where you read about this:
the Purple-Headed Warrior Weekly, right?�
�Ha ha.� That�s a good one, Sam.� I�m trying to be helpful here.�
�Yeah, you�re a regular Mother Theresa,� Sam grumps.
His cock is just about completely deflated now.� He lies back with a huff, staring at the
popcorn ceiling.� Things are quiet for
about 10 seconds when Dean asks, �Need a little help there, bro?�
Sam looks over at him.�
�No, Dean, I don�t want any help.�
I want you to sleep it off.�
�Come on, don�t be like that.� I�ll tell you about the babe I just had, and
believe you me, you won�t have any trouble getting off when you hear about the
things I�ve been doing.�
Sam pinches the skin at the bridge of his nose and says tiredly,
�Dean, this is going to come as quite a shock to you, but I don�t want to hear
about you and some tramp you met in a pool hall.� I mean, seriously, dude � don�t you worry
about VD?� Or herpes, or something?�
�Hey!� I use
protection,� Dean protests.� �What kind
of guy do you think I am?�
Sam gives him a look.
�Whatever, dude.�
Sam rolls over, hugging one of the pillows to him and trying
to will himself to go to sleep.� �Turn
the light off, will you?�
Dean toes off his boots, strips down to his underwear, and flicks
the light off just like Sam wants.�
They lay in silence for about a minute.
�So, her name is Shannon.�
Or Sharon.�
Shelly, maybe?�
No, I�m pretty sure it�s Shannon.�
Anyhow, her hair is all curly and soft and hangs down almost to that
dimple above her ass.� And what an ass that girl has: round and
smooth--�
�Shut up, Dean,� Sam says.
�Yeah, you�re right,� Dean says indulgently.� �Let me start from the beginning.� So I�m playing pool with some wet-behind-the-ears
college kid � not unlike yourself � and I notice her
right away.� She�s sitting at the bar
chatting with the bartender like they�ve known each other since grade school or
something.� And she just kinda looks over her shoulder at me � she�s wearing one of
those stringy dresses, the kind that shows all that skin on a chick�s back �
and she gives me this smile like she wants to eat me for dessert.� Well, of course I smile back, but I can�t
quite make it over there yet.� I mean,
I�m ready to cream the college kid and I�ve got all night for her, right?�
�Dean, I do not
want to hear this.� I don�t care what
you�ve been doing.� I just want to go to
sleep, okay?�
�No, not so much.� Just listen.�
You won�t be disappointed, dude.�
I can promise you that.� So, there
I am, creaming the kid at pool, and she must be getting a little impatient
because she sends a beer over for me.� I
hurry up and end the game then, even though I probably could have taken the
sucker for at least a hundred more.� But
priorities are priorities, right?� So I
go up to the bar and we talk for a few minutes.�
Then she asks me to drive her home because she�s got a wedding to go to
in the morning and needs her beauty sleep.�
But when we get to her apartment she says, �keep me company for a little
while, stranger?�� And how am I gonna resist that?� I
mean, this chick is built,
Sammy.� She�s not too skinny, curvy in
all the right places, and I can tell just by looking
at them that her tits are just a little bigger than a handful and firm as melons.�
�Dean, for the love of God, please, please, just shut the hell up.�
But Dean doesn�t shut up, the bastard.� Just keeps on talking like he�s lost in
another world.� �We barely get in the
door and she�s all over me, man.� And
I�ve gotta tell you, I�ve had more than a few shots
of Jack at this point so I�m not exactly up to snuff in the downstairs
department if you know what I mean.� But
hey, I�m not gonna pass up an opportunity like this,
so I go to town as well.� Man, she�s a
great kisser. She has these really luscious lips, really soft, and I swear � I
swear, dude � she�s so good at sucking and nipping at me that I can�t keep from
thinking how good those lips would feel around my cock.�
Damn it, Dean.� Did you have to mention the exact thing I�ve
been fantasizing about?� Sam
thinks.� And despite himself, he�s
getting interested in what Dean�s saying, because hey, it�s not like he talks
about this stuff with anybody else.� The
ladies really like Dean, and maybe his brother knows a thing or two that Sam
doesn�t.� So maybe he should listen.� In the interests of
continuing education.
�She�s making these sounds, too.� Little, I don�t know, cries that are so fuckin� hot.� And now
Little Dean is getting really interested, you know.� Especially when she pushes me up against the
wall and slides her fingers under my shirt.�
Her fingers are warm, but she�s got these long fingernails and she�s
scratching lightly up my chest and around my back, not enough to hurt but damn
does it feel good.� I�m shivering all
over and she�s smiling and saying little things � �You like that, baby?� I�m gonna make you
come so hard you aren�t going to be able to move for a week.�� And now that
� that is what I like to hear, especially since her voice is all low and
raspy-like.� The next thing I know she�s
got my pants undone and she�s sliding them down around my knees.�
Sam�s briefs are bulging now, and he�s having a hard time
breathing normally.� He�s imagining the
scene just like Dean�s telling it, except he�s the one being pushed against the
wall.� He lets his hand rest atop his
dick, not doing anything, just letting it rest there.�
�That girl knows how to move, Sammy.� She goes down on her knees, all slinky and
smooth like a cat or a dancer, yeah, that�s it; she�s like a dancer who�s in
control of her body � comfortable with it.�
Then she puts her lips around my cock and let me tell you, man, I can
feel my eyes rolling back into my head.��
He gives a little moan like he�s feeling it all over again.� And now his voice lowers an octave.� �Her mouth is so hot and her tongue is licking
and sucking and swirling and it doesn�t take much of that before I�m harder
than a brick.�
He hums in the back of his throat, all warm and contented,
and that sound?� It does something to
Sam, sending a spike of pleasure down his dick.�
He slips his hand down his briefs again, wraps his long fingers around
his aching cock again and slowly, ever so slowly, starts to slide his fingers
up and down, up and down.
He sees the dark outline of Dean�s chin and face.� He�s still looking up at the ceiling.� Dean clears his throat, seems to come back to
himself.
�So � where was I?� Oh
yeah, the cocksucking.� That girl�s mouth was gonna
get me off right then, so I pull her up and start guiding her over to the bed,
and she�s peeling clothes off left and right as we go.� When we get to the edge I lift her up under
the arms and lay her back on the bed and God, Sammy, you shoulda
seen her lying there all naked and spread out, smiling this mischievous little
smile, one hand flicking her clit, the other tugging me over on top of her.�
Sam�s sweating now.�
His cock is aching and he�s not even trying to masturbate quietly
anymore.� His hand is heating up the
olive oil, which has been keeping him still slick and ready, as he beats off,
his strokes getting faster and faster.
�I couldn�t wait to start kissing her all over.� She seems to like what I�m doing because
she�s moaning and thrashing her head back and forth.� Then I start eating her out and fuck!� She throws her head back and arches her spine
and if the neighbors haven�t heard anything before, they�re sure as hell
hearing something now, cause she�s so turned on she�s
almost sobbing.� She tastes so good.� You know what it�s like when you bite into a
ripe pear, and the juices go gushing down your face?� Well, she�s like that, so wet and sweet.�
And that image?� Pretty much sent Sam on a collision course with an orgasm.� He�s panting now, and making needy sounds in
the back of his throat.
Dean�s still talking � saying something about how he plunged
his cock into her � but Sam�s pretty much past thinking about Dean right now.
He�s just thinking � pressure and harder and gotta come and now!� With a groan, he arches his back and
comes all over his hand and stomach.� And
God in heaven, but he can�t remember ever coming that hard by his own hand
before.� Dean�s mumbling on, but the
urgency of his words has left and he�s rapidly losing steam.
Sam doesn�t even know what he�s saying because the
combination of his thundering heartbeat and panting breaths drown out all other
noise for a long moment.
By the time Dean makes a sleepy noise and turns over, Sam
can hear again.� �I always take care of
you, Sammy.� Don�t I?� �He slurs, his words
soft and drowsy.� �Dad was always telling
me to take care of you � that�s all he wanted �� he
trails off then, his breath deepening.�
He gives a little snort that ends in a snore.
Sam lays there thinking about how Dean�s right.� Dad was always telling Dean to take care of him.�
Somehow, though, Sam doesn�t think this is what he�d had in
mind.
--
End
- 1
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Taking Care of Business