"Fucking tropical storm. God, this sucks," Dean groused, throwing down his latest hand of... Sam thought it was Gin Rummy. Wasn't even sure anymore. They'd been playing cards for about six hours now, ever since the power had gone off. The roads had been closed about five hours before that, while they had still been sleeping after taking down a rather tenacious ghoul the night before. Dean had not been happy about having to ride out a tropical storm in Norfolk and he'd only gotten crankier when the power had gone, taking all the hotel pay per view porn with it.

Sam sighed and started to collect the cards, stacking them together and wrapping a worn rubber band they used to hold to hold the deck together around it. He got up and looked at Dean, who was now leaning back in his chair, hands rubbing at his eyes, naked except for his boxers. This far south in Virginia in the middle of July with no air conditioning and they were both ready to die. Thankfully the windows of their efficiency opened and the wind was blowing... Sam decided using the term briskly was understating a bit but whatever. He didn't care much about semantics right now.

Sam sighed and started to pace, bored out of his own skull and really not looking forward to having to entertain Dean, whose attention span had always rivaled a gnat as far as Sam could tell. The only things that usually seemed to hold Dean's attention for long periods of time were B movies, girls, whatever they were hunting at the time, Jack Nicholson, the Impala or... Sam grinned suddenly. Or fucking Sam.

He grinned wider, wondering how to go about getting Dean into bed. It wasn't like they had much else to do. Cards were boring; they were no fun when Dean cheated and still sucked when he didn't. All their weapons were clean after they'd taken care of them this morning. They couldn't d.o laundry or even surf the web since the battery in the laptop was dead and they had no way to charge it.

In that instant, fucking each other stupid seemed like the best idea in the history of ever to Sam.

He sat down opposite Dean, who was poking desolately at a bag of cheese doodles that were no doubt stale, soggy or both. Folding his hands together in his lap, Sam crossed one leg over the other, mouth quirking a little as he watched Dean chew with his mouth wide open, forehead wrinkled a bit.

"Dean," he said.

"What?" Dean said, voice filled with a sigh and mouth filled with cheese doodle.

"Wanna fuck?" Sam asked, trying not to sound too eager. Dean liked to remember every time Sam was really 'hot' for him or begged or this or that. He cataloged every incident and then pulled them out at the most inopportune times. Well, according to Sam anyway. Dean usually just laughed and laughed when he reminded Sam of some of his least proud moments.

Dean swallowed then looked up, eyes sharp. "Are you kidding? There's no air conditioning and I swear to god I could actually cut the air in here if I wanted to."

Sam resisted the strong urge to pout. "So, uh. That's a no?"

Dean snorted and got up, stretching a little. Sam tried not to let his mouth water as he watched the shift and play of muscles beneath Dean's skin. "That's a hell no, Sammy. I don't want your overly large body smothering me in ninety degree heat with no air conditioning. Thanks but no thanks."

Sam sighed and tried not to whine. "Well what else are we supposed to do?"

Dean shrugged and dropped down to the floor to start doing push ups. Sam gaped.

"So you don't wanna fuck but you'll work out? Dean, I'm not even gonna try to follow your thought process on that one," Sam snorted, a little miffed.

Dean winked up at him, paused in counting off the push ups under his breath. "'S a little more interesting, Sam."

Sam was insulted. "How is doing push ups more interesting than fucking me??" He really couldn't keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. What the fuck?

Dean finished a set of push ups and got up, scratching idly at his stomach. He grinned, face thoughtful. "You're, well. Sammy, my boy, you're a bit... what's the word? Oh yeah... vanilla." His tongue poked out a bit from behind his teeth, eyes alight with an unholy glee he always got when teasing Sam for anything.

Sam felt his hackles raise as he sputtered out an answer. "Vanilla? I'm freakin' vanilla? Dean-you-I-that's not-... Ok you know what? That's it. Get on the bed." Sam pointed with one long finger at the bed and then planted both hands firmly on his hips. Dean cocked an eyebrow and snorted out a laugh.

"Hell no Sasquatch. I already told you I don't wanna end up with heat stroke because you wanna fuck me out of boredom." Dean turned his back on Sam, probably going for his duffel but Sam didn't wait to find out. He took the two steps separating them and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, manhandling him onto the bed. He got an elbow to his ear and what he thought was a foot in his kidney for his efforts but minutes later, he had Dean pinned on the bed beneath him, red faced and sulking.

Sam grinned down at him, hands pinning Dean's wrist to the bed, legs straddling Dean's stomach. "It's not boredom, Dean. Not anymore. Now it's a matter of pride, alright? So... think you can lie there and take it like a man?"

Dean rolled his eyes, intent on making Sam work for it obviously. "Whatever you need to do to soothe your fragile ego, Sam. I'll just lie here and think of England or whatever."

Sam smiled and started to let go of Dean's hands then thought better of it. "If I let go, will you promise not to move?" Dean rolled his eyes then nodded. Sam stood up long enough to strip himself of his own boxers then got back on the bed, eagerly working Dean's boxers down his bow legs. Dean was lying there with a resigned look on his face, hands laced behind his head, no doubt listing every weapon they owned and doing a mental inventory of ammunition. Sam smiled to himself and vowed to have Dean begging for it before he fucked him long and hard into the sagging mattress.

Sam started at Dean's ankles, licking around the knobby bone. Dean inhaled but when Sam looked up, Dean's expression was still bored. But was there a bit of a tic on his jaw now? Sam smiled and went back to work, licking and sucking and nibbling his way up Dean's legs till he was inches from Dean's now blood red cock, where it curved enticingly up towards his taut stomach. Dean was now visibly squirming but Sam wasn't satisfied.

If Dean wanted him to be less vanilla, Sam could give him that.

Sam paused in sucking a huge love bite onto Dean's hip bone and smirked at the way Dean was biting his lip, trying not to moan. Sam nudged Dean's legs until his feet were planted flat on the mattress, knees bent. He knelt between them, hands splayed on Dean's muscular thighs. He stroked slowly up and down and Dean growled.

"Goddammit, Sam, are you gonna suck my cock or what? Do something already!" His voice was shot, thready with need and arousal. Sam smirked.

"Okay. But remember - you're the one that called me vanilla." Sam bent down, bypassing Dean's cock and nudging his legs further apart. "This is a little something I picked up in college."

Dean started to growl in frustration but his growl abruptly turned into a squeak Sam would never let him live down when Sam spread him and started to slowly trace the pointed tip of his tongue around Dean's hole. Dean's hands came down to wrap in Sam's hair and he arched, body shivering as Sam started to lick and suck, tongue slowly opening his body up.

Sam grinned to himself as he pressed his tongue inside, hands squeezing Dean's thighs when he shuddered hard, breath rasping in his chest as Sam started to thrust his tongue inside, hard and fast and almost brutal. Dean whined in his chest and Sam stopped for a minute, waiting until Dean started to beg before he started again, intent on making Dean absolutely lose his mind.

"Holy fucking CHRIST Sam," Dean panted out. Sam looked up and his own cock got harder at the sight of Dean panting and flushed, skin glistening with sweat, all because of Sam. Sam slid his thumbs down and slowly edged them inside Dean alongside his tongue, opening him wide. Dean keened and shuddered and Sam smiled, tongue and hands working as he watched Dean come all over himself without either of them touching his cock. Dean's legs collapsed against the bed, chest heaving and eyes heavy lidded. Sam sat up and swiped a hand through the come on Dean's stomach, slicking up his hand as he brought it to his own cock, slowly starting to stroke.

Dean finally focused on Sam. "Ok I give. You? So not vanilla."

Sam decided he'd gloat later when his cock wasn't demanding hot and wet and friction nownownow. He slid Dean's legs over his shoulders and slid two slicked up fingers inside up to the third knuckle. Dean whimpered and threw back his head, cock twitching against his belly. Sam slid his fingers back out and then placed the blunt head of his erection at Dean's entrance.

"Told you so," he murmured then entered him, deep and hard.