( he's a simple man. really, he is—and when there's a pair of deft, skilled fingers wrapping warmly around his cock, he dwindles down to nothing more than hunger. it's a carnality he's familiarized himself with since he can remember, one of the only means of comfort aside from food that brought him some sort of satisfaction, that made him forget about all of the shit surrounding him even if just briefly. sometimes he wished sam would get the hint a little sooner—that he wasn't so god damn engrossed in his research to pick up on when it was time to scram.
it wouldn't of been the first time sammy had to see himself out for one of dean's romps, but at the present, the only slack he can cut him is the fact that sam actually doesn't know about their indulgences. how he'd taken her in the back of baby, had her up against the bricks at a bar they'd stopped in a few months back after a particularly nasty hunt.
she redirects all attention to him and she's winding him up enough with her touch alone that he's getting to a tipping point, one that'd probably wind up pretty awkward for her if they kept it up at this rate. there's an audible growl when she curls her wrist when it nears the tip, length swelling all too readily in her hand, enough to rigidly stand upright if she were to let it go. his brother eyes him, and he pinches at the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut, doing his best to mask it as no more than exhaustion. to help his position, he can't remember the last time he'd gotten more than four hours of sleep.
he attempts to steel himself, cupping against her pussy, using the heel of his hand to grind against her. but his movements are sloppy, often interrupted, tongue prodding at the inner of his cheek. )
Y'know, I'm not sure I'm in the right frame of mind to be deciding whether or not we should bring in God's penpals. ( thankfully the laptop before him covers her forearm from sammy's line of sight, the way his hips give a little rut, dragging palm over his features before he's grabbing for his beer to finish it off. )
How bout we call it a night, huh? If you two nerds want to keep at the rosetta stone—ah, be my guest.
no subject
it wouldn't of been the first time sammy had to see himself out for one of dean's romps, but at the present, the only slack he can cut him is the fact that sam actually doesn't know about their indulgences. how he'd taken her in the back of baby, had her up against the bricks at a bar they'd stopped in a few months back after a particularly nasty hunt.
she redirects all attention to him and she's winding him up enough with her touch alone that he's getting to a tipping point, one that'd probably wind up pretty awkward for her if they kept it up at this rate. there's an audible growl when she curls her wrist when it nears the tip, length swelling all too readily in her hand, enough to rigidly stand upright if she were to let it go. his brother eyes him, and he pinches at the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut, doing his best to mask it as no more than exhaustion. to help his position, he can't remember the last time he'd gotten more than four hours of sleep.
he attempts to steel himself, cupping against her pussy, using the heel of his hand to grind against her. but his movements are sloppy, often interrupted, tongue prodding at the inner of his cheek. )
Y'know, I'm not sure I'm in the right frame of mind to be deciding whether or not we should bring in God's penpals. ( thankfully the laptop before him covers her forearm from sammy's line of sight, the way his hips give a little rut, dragging palm over his features before he's grabbing for his beer to finish it off. )
How bout we call it a night, huh? If you two nerds want to keep at the rosetta stone—ah, be my guest.