Dean had gone out for supper and ended up at Burger King, just to spite Sam. Even though he had bought Sam a salad, he knew Sam would still bitch about Dean's choice of 'restaurants.' As he got out of the car, balancing paper bags and drinks, he was suddenly manhandled into the shadows that were cloaking the trunk, food and drink spilling carelessly over the pavement.

Dean sputtered but then he recognized the huge hands that were holding him face down on the hood of his baby.

"Sam, what the hell man?" He got out, turning his head, straining to read Sam's expression in the twilight.

Sam leaned down, licked a wet stripe up Dean's neck. "Got bored and horny waiting for you to come back." Dean felt Sam shrug. "Also kinda always wanted to fuck you on the car." He bent down and his hot breath tickled Dean's ear. "So I'm gonna."

Dean's cock went from semi-interested to ohgodfucknow in about point five seconds. He could feel Sam's own hardness grinding into his ass as Sam's large hands bracketed his hips, Sam's lips and teeth worrying the skin where his neck and shoulder met, leaving tiny little marks of Sam's possession.

Dean whined in his throat and Sam chuckled, a short puff of hot air against Dean's over-sensitized skin and he shivered. Sam's hands had migrated from Dean's hips to his crotch, deft fingers hurriedly undoing the silver buttons of Dean's 501's. Dean ground back into Sam's hard cock and smirked when Sam bit back a moan, hips stuttering a little, hands faltering. But then it was like Dean had hit a switch inside of Sam and Sam was suddenly everywhere, surrounding Dean with his scent and touch and taste. God Dean could taste and feel Sam all over.

He moaned when Sam's slim fingers finally, finally got him out of his boxers. He jacked Dean's cock slowly, seeming intent on drawing embarrassing noises and whimpers out of Dean and Dean was too fucking gone to even care. Sam sucked on Dean's skin in random patterns, Dean's shirt gone somewhere, he hadn't even noticed Sam removing it. He knew his shoulders and neck were going to be peppered with marks and bruises and he'd wear them like medals, having earned them; brands, because Sam owned him. He shivered when Sam shoved his jeans and boxers down over his hips and grunted when Sam's fingers left his cock to slide into his mouth.

"Get 'em nice and slick, Dean, or you won't be able to sit for a week," he whispered, voice gravel rough and low and Dean bit back a whimper but did as he was told. He licked and sucked on those gorgeous digits, tongue working on them as if they were Sam's cock and he closed his eyes and moaned, wishing for and remembering the beloved weight of Sam in his mouth, bruising his throat as he let go. Sam pulled his fingers free with a wet pop and Dean shivered again, body covered in goose bumps in anticipation of the feeling of being full to the brim, of having Sam deep inside him, hot and pulsing and alive and there, right there, with Dean.

Sam stretched him hurriedly, obviously almost as far gone as Dean, one then two then three fingers in as many minutes, both of them too drunk on each other to worry about prep and tomorrow and how Dean was going to bitch the entire ten hour ride to Duluth. Right then, all that mattered was heat and friction and them. Sam kicked at Dean's left foot, spreading his legs further and then covered his body with his own, chest to back, mouthing at the nape of Dean's neck as he pressed slowly, so goddamn slowly inside of Dean, belying their urgency and need to fuck nownownow.

Dean's hands scrabbled at the hood, trying to find something to hold onto, ground him as Sam slowly filled him, too much oh god too much and then Sam's hand wrapped around his, fingers laced together and he breathed, panted through his nose and whispered, 'Sam' in the balmy summer air. Sam pressed a soft kiss against his neck and then started to thrust, the gesture at odds with the punishing pace and depth of his thrusts, Dean's hard cock rubbing against the hot metal of the car with each one.

Sam was whining low in his chest and Dean was rambling, nonsense and Sam's name, all jumbled together, words like need and love and please and harder. Sam gave him all he asked for, needing it every bit as much and they both tensed as the pleasure built and built. Nerves alight with fire and then ice as Dean came against the car, Sam's name torn from him in a loud gasp. Sam's hips stuttered and then he collapsed against Dean, shooting warm and hot inside of him. They were both breathing heavy and their hands were still interlaced on the hood, as they tried to recover their equilibrium. Dean was the first to stir, lying under Sam's weight.

"Dude, we gotta move. Someone's gonna come out and see us." Sam grunted and kissed Dean's shoulder before pulling out, causing both of them to whimper. Dean stood, albeit a little awkwardly and pulled up his pants, absently searching for his shirt while Sam did the same.

Dean quirked a brow at his brother. "Nice surprise there, Sam. Didn't know you had a public sex kink. Or was this about the car?" Dean turned and frowned as he noticed the spunk already drying on the paint. He smacked Sam hard in the chest. "Dude. You are so washing the car tomorrow before we leave."

Sam blushed although he didn't look all that apologetic and pulled a reluctant Dean into a one armed hug before releasing him and swatting his ass. "Whatever, Dean. I'm gonna go get us some food since you threw our supper on the ground."

Dean flipped him off as Sam climbed into the car, whistling 'Black Magic Woman' under his breath before pulling out, taillights gleaming crimson in the night. Dean looked around the parking lot for a few minutes before giving up on ever finding his shirt, then made his way a little slowly to their room. He decided as he sat down on his bed gingerly that Sam was going to pay for the whole 'no lube' thing. Dean grinned as he plotted his revenge and when he heard the familiar growl of his baby pull in, he smiled wickedly and got up, hiding behind the door.

Oh yeah. This was gonna be fun.