Current mood:	*grabs attention*
Entry tags:	fics

Fic: Are You Close?
Title: Are You Close?
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: Nc-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just my dirty little stories.
Warnings: Phone Sex: rimming, hand job, reluctance. Masturbation. Wincest.
Author's Note: Thanks so much to kirkes_island. I don't think it's fair to call what she does a Beta. That would imply that I finished writing it without her support and sadly I'm not sure that would happen.

Summary: Sam's all hot and bothered but Dean's not home yet. Whatever will they do?





"How close are you?" Sam asked into the phone.

"Not far now." Dean sounded a little distracted. "You already showered, right?"

"Why? What are you thinking?" Sam pulled the curtain away from the window and watched the traffic for a minute, almost desperate to see the Impala.

"I'm thinking I'd like some hot water," Dean said, laughing.

"Yeah ... maybe I'll join you."

"Dude, I spent all day digging up that coffin. I had to apologize to the Impala before I got in. There's that much mud."

"You're all dirty," Sam murmured, a smirk twisting his features.

"And you're all horny." Dean laughed.

"No, I'm not." Sam straighted a little on the bed and jerked his hands off his thighs.

"Right." Dean fiddled with the tape player and then Enter Sandman came on low in the background. "I forgot. You never get horny."

"I get horny." Sam laid one hand on his thigh again, in protest.

"I know." Dean's voice dropped an octave, turning sexy instantly. "Especially after hunts. You always come so hard after a good fight, don't you?"

"Dean...." His hand slipped a little higher, heartbeat suddenly too fast.

"What do you want, Sammy? Ask me and I'll do it."

"Do what?" Sam had a pretty good idea, but he wanted to hear it.

"You never had phone sex, college boy?"

Sam's dick twitched in attention. "No," he admitted. "But-"

"You want to?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." He waited for Dean to say something but there was only silence for several long seconds. Finally, Sam prodded, "If you were here, what would you do?"

"Same thing I'm doing over the phone, jackass." Dean laughed but then his voice dropped into a sexy drawl again. "I'd make you beg for it."

"Yeah, I'm not really into begging."

"Liar." Dean's breathing was a little fast, the sound echoing into the phone and turning Sam on even more. "Don't know why you're so shy. You whimper like a little whore every time I go down on you. You know that, right? The sounds that come out of your mouth while I'm rimming you ... and then you're coming all over your stomach, practically sobbing."

"Fuck, Dean...." His fingers strayed to his zipper but he didn't free himself yet.

"Come on, Sammy. What do you want?"

"Let's have phone sex," Sam said, feeling brave.

"We're already having phone sex, genius."

"Oh."

"Tell me what you want," Dean demanded, his voice gruff.

"You," he said simply. When it was obvious that Dean wanted more, he stammered, "Your mouth. Those fucking lips of yours, Dean ... and you know it. You spend all day teasing me, making me hard."

"You like to be teased?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam fidgeted on the bed, feeling a little outplayed by Dean's easy words and sexy voice. "I like it more when your mouth tastes like my come."

"You need to come now, Sammy?"

"Yeah." He looked down at the straining confines of his jeans and grunted into the phone. "I really am horny."

"Poor baby." Dean clicked off the radio and growled, "You naked yet?"

"No."

"Take your clothes off."

Sam held the phone against his shoulder and jerked his jeans down. Even the soft slide of his boxers over his erection felt rough. But then he was naked and leaning back against the headboard, his breathing harsh.

"You can still see the hickey on my thigh," he whispered. "You like marking me up, Dean?"

"Dude, I'm having a hard enough time driving, here. This is for you."

"Okay." Sam smiled, his chest oddly warm at Dean's words. "I like when you mark me. I like knowing that I'm yours."

"You are mine."

"I like it when you get jealous." Sam's fingers inched closer to his cock until he was almost touching himself. "Sometimes I flirt with people just to piss you off. 'Cause I know you're going to suck me off in the car."

"Is that right?" Dean sounded amused, like maybe Sammy's little game hadn't been lost on him.

"Yeah, and you always suck harder when you're angry. Like you've got something to prove."

"Come on, Sammy. This isn't share time." Sam could imagine the twist of Dean's smirk and just the image of those lips made him harder. "Trail your fingertips over your thighs. How's that feel?"

"Mmm," he sighed in response. With every swipe of his fingertips he moved closer to his straining cock. Lifting one hand to rub a thumb over his nipple, he moaned into the phone. "I don't know what to say, Dean."

"Tell me what makes you come."

"You do." Sam groaned in frustration and swiped his thumb around the base of his erection, his thighs tensed and quivering.

"Obviously. But I'm not there to touch you." Sam heard Dean lick his lips and whimpered into the phone. "What do you think about when you jerk off?"

"What? Nothing, just-"

"Wrap your hand around your cock."

Sam heard the authority in Dean's voice and complied. The feel of flesh against flesh after all this teasing had him practically purring.

"Feel good?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." He started up a slow pace that was a sweet mix of pleasure and torture. "I feel-"

"Now tell me what you think about."

"I thought you said this wasn't share time."

"Man, just relax some of your control issues and trust me, would you." He paused for long seconds and Sam shifted against the bed, his slow movements starting to feel more like torture and less like pleasure. "You know I'll get you there. I always do."

"Remember the werewolf in Tampa?" Sam asked, his body throbbing in renewed arousal at the thought.

"Jesus, really? That was over a year ago. We hadn't even...."

"No, but I was thinking about it," Sam admitted, blushing. "You know, never mind. This is-"

"What about Tampa?" He could hear Dean's smirk as he added, "It must have been hot if you're still jerking off to it."

"Hot and wet," he murmured, remembering. "We swam down that creek to disguise our scent and there were crocodiles everywhere. I thought we were dead for sure."

"Focus, Sam."

"We barely made it back to the car. You were panting and I could see your thighs trembling. The wolf was right behind us and you looked like ... god, I don't even know."

"You like me trembling?" Dean asked, sounding somewhere between amused and affronted.

"You know what happened," Sam grumbled. "You got the gun out and got a shot off when I could barely breathe. Your shirt was clinging to your chest and there was a streak of blood down your cheek, from a branch I'd let snap back."

"Were you hard?" Dean rasped out.

"God, yes." He laughed now but it wasn't funny at the time. "I fantasize about what I wanted to do."

"You wanted to touch me?"

"I wanted to lick that blood off your face," Sam whispered.

"What else?" Dean was breathing quickly, like he was as hard as Sam was.

"I wanted to tackle you and get your hands above your head. I would have peeled that clinging shirt away from your chest, just to see your body."

"I would have fought you," Dean rasped.

"I know." Sam gasped as his hand sped up, the images more erotic than ever before with Dean listening to them. "I would have shoved my hand down your pants. Gripped you hard. And I know you would have gone still."

"I would have grit my teeth and glared at you." Despite Dean's words of resistance, his voice was husky and turned on. "But fuck, that giant hand of yours. It would have felt so good."

"And I would have ..." Sam moaned and arched his hips up, his breathing ragged. "I would have started stroking you. You'd be glaring and swearing and telling me to stop, but your hips...."

"I'd start fucking up into your hand."

"Jesus, Dean-"

"Don't stop."

"Can I let go of your hands?" Sam panted.

"Not yet, Sammy. Hold me down. Shift so that I can feel your hard cock against my hip."

"Fuck." Sam twisted his hand over his cock, moaning into the phone. "You'd stop moving, probably growl out a curse."

"But you'd start stroking me harder."

"And you'd roll your hips." Sam tossed his head back and it thudded against the wall. "Jesus, that feels good. When I grind down into you."

"I'd be biting my lip, trying not to gasp and moan."

"I want to kiss you," Sam pleaded, his body tightening almost painfully.

"How bad, Sammy? Bad enough to let me bite into your lip?"

"You're too far gone to fight me," Sam gasped. "You're rubbing your hip against my cock and arching your back, and you'd let me...." His voice trailed away as he felt himself teetering on the edge.

"I'd let you do anything," Dean continued, his voice reedy and almost a snarl. "Let you blow me. Beg to come on your tongue. Let you fuck me. Go crazy as your cock splits me open and drives me into the dirt."

"Dean." Sam whimpered, his entire body shaking as he worked himself over with long, hard strokes.

"Flip you over and spread you open and tease you with my tongue until you're fucking begging me to let you," Dean growled into the phone, his voice dipping low and so sexy that Sam whimpered again, "come, Sammy. I know you're desperate. So fucking hard. My tongue in your ass."

"Jesus, Dean. I-" Sam tensed, pleasure ringing through him hard and intense. He squeezed his eyes closed against it, bursts of color exploding in his mind. He was quivering, his body throbbing until he could barely register Dean's coaxing words.

"Shh, you're okay. Stay with it, man. Ride it out, Sammy. I'm here."

"Oh my god, Dean." Sam sighed into the phone and then laughed, slow and lazy with pleasure.

"Fuck, Sam. That was ... I'm...."

"You close?" Sam asked, his voice sounding as fucked out as he felt.

"Jesus, you have no idea. I almost came in my-"

"To the hotel." Sam chuckled and idly ran a hand over the plane of his belly, his fingers smearing through come.

"Oh. Five minutes, maybe."

"All right." Sam smirked and let his voice turn raspy as he growled, "Don't come yet. I want you to fuck me against the wall when you get here."

"Gotta go," Dean snapped.

"Dean-"

"Stop fucking talking!"

"Or maybe you'd rather I drop to all fours and-"

"I'm hanging up on you now." Dean laughed, and if the sound was a little frustrated it was also joyful. "You want to be useful? Get the lube and work yourself ... oh, jesus. Good bye!"