A Thousand Words Unspoken
"Ow, fuck, watch the hands," said Dean irritably, as Sam accidentally bumped his chest for what seemed like the thirtieth time that day.
"It's not my fault you got drunk and let some chick pierce your nipple," he said with a smirk, which only confirmed Dean's suspicion that he was doing it on purpose.
Dean glowered. "Don't mean you've got to rub it in," he groused, rubbing his chest low on the left side, afraid to touch the gold hoop, or the tender nub it was threaded through.
"You brought it on yourself after we got our tattoos," replied Sam, totally unrepentant.
Dean acknowledged in his mind that perhaps that was true, but outwardly he continued to sulk, and stayed on his guard against any more illicit nipple-touching.
"Still sore?" asked Sam, long arm sneaking under Dean's to tug at his nipple ring, something which had unfortunately become a regular habit of his.
Dean gasped, then glared. "It's gonna be if you keep doing that," he retorted, one hand covering it as best he could. "Isn't about time for you to stop playing with my nipples?"
Sam laughed. "Afraid your little brother's gonna give you wood?" he teased, tugging the unpierced nipple with a twist that sent pleasure straight to Dean's groin, and a flush rising in his cheeks.
"It's just not right," said Dean defensively, wishing he could cross his arms over his chest and still drive. He shifted his hips surreptitiously, hoping the loose jeans wouldn't show the effect that Sam's touches were having on him. "You don't see me playing with your nipples all the time."
Sam snorted. "You're too much of a prude to touch another guy's nipples," he said, something challenging in his tone, that sent Dean's mind careening down a path he'd rather not go.
"You're practically a born-again virgin, and you're calling me a prude?" said Dean, picking up the verbal challenge and not the more tempting physical one.
"Just because I won't fuck someone I don't love doesn't make me a virgin," said Sam with irritating serenity. "You'd prefer homophobe?"
Dean's head snapped over to Sam so fast he almost swerved out of his lane. "You think because I won't fondle my little brother's nipples I don't do guys?" he said, forcing his eyes back to the road. He'd picked up his share of bar boys in his time, but the girls were usually better about condoms Plus, they rarely wanted to fuck him up the ass, which he had never warmed up to as a one-night kind of activity. He snorted. "Shows what you know, Sammy."
"Oh, so it's just me, then," said Sam, sounding almost weirdly hurt.
"What's got your undies in a bind?" asked Dean, annoyed. "You jealous or something?"
Sam's voice was defensive, challenging. "So what if I am?" he asked, sliding down in the seat in one of his sulks.
Dean tried to make it a joke, reaching out and pinching one of Sam's nipples hard enough to hurt. "All you had to do was ask."
"Hey!" said Sam, rubbing his now-sore chest. "That's not... Why'd you let her pierce you?" he asked, suddenly changing the subject. Or maybe getting to the heart of it instead.
Dean shrugged. "Too drunk to care, I guess. It's not like I've got to worry about how it'll look when I'm eighty."
"That's just fucking brilliant," said Sam, sounding really angry now.
Dean sighed. "What do you want me to do, Sammy, take it out? Let you do the other one?"
There was a long pause and then Sam said tentatively, "Would you do that, really?"
"Of course," said Dean, grateful to spot a motel up ahead. "We'll pull over here and I'll take it out..."
"No, I mean... Let me do the other one," said Sam, long fingers snaking out to catch on Dean's right nipple again, tugging at the sensitive flesh.
Dean swallowed, but nodded. It had hurt like hell the first time, but if it made Sammy stop sulking, Dean would do just about anything at this point. "Yeah."
The return of Sam's smile would be worth the pain. Probably.
It took a few more days for Sam to read up on the right way and get all the stuff, but soon enough Dean found himself laid out on the bed in his boxers, hoping he wasn't going to spring wood. Sam swabbed the area with alcohol, and Dean's nipple crinkled from the cold as it evaporated. Sam smirked and gave a tug at the other, mostly-healed ring. "At least they'll match now," he said, picking up the hemostat, which looked like a cross between scissors and some weird torture device. "You ready?"
"No, but do it anyway," said Dean, feeling the tingle of anticipation right where he did not want it.
Sam chuckled, toying with the poor nub just a little, tugging it up and out until he could get a good grip with the hemostat, locking it in place like the world's weirdest nipple clamp. Sam had insisted on buying the kind just for piercing that had holes through the tips, plus a special piercing needle, which Dean thought was pretty hilarious considering his first one had been done with a lot of tequila and a barbecue skewer. "Just trust me," said Sam softly, smearing ointment on the needle and putting a cork on the other side. "The guy at the shop showed me what to do."
Dean gritted his teeth and refrained from telling Sam to hurry up already; the clamp was making his nipple go a little numb and that could only be good. It was all he could do not to buck up when the pain lanced through him along with the needle, followed up by some really unpleasant tugging as Sam got the hemostat off, then worked the ring into the hole and got it closed. "Shouldn't you be wearing gloves for this?" asked Dean, finally daring to look as Sam's warm fingers brushed over his ribs almost gently. The ring was gold, just like the first one, but instead of a simple bead Sam had fit a little dangling protection charm in the gap.
"Touch is important," answered Sam, as though Dean had asked him a completely different question. "How's it feel?"
"Like I need about a fifth of tequila to make it go away," said Dean, wincing when Sam nudged the ring. "Or a really good blowjob."
Sam smirked. "You're too much of a prude," he said, though his hand wandered down to rest on Dean's stomach like an unspoken challenge, hot and solid. And when had Sam's hands gotten so damned big?
"You offering?" asked Dean, eyebrow going up and hips tilting involuntarily. The pain had damped his rising need a little, but endorphins and Sam's touches were waking his body up again. It made him hotter than any bar chick because it was Sam, and he loved and trusted Sammy like no one else in this world, or any other. Not to mention how fucking wrong it was for his little brother to be working his boxers off, eyes appraising as they watched Dean's cock rise up out of its nest of curls, going from half-hard to fully ready in the time it took for Sam's clothes to hit the floor next to Dean's.
"Yeah," said Sam, straddling Dean's hips, his face intent and almost afraid. "Yeah, I am."
Dean swallowed his objections and reached for Sammy, pulling him down into the hottest kiss he'd ever had. "If I'm going to Hell, I might as well make it for something good," said Dean, voice rough.
Sam laughed brokenly and kissed him harder, mouth big and hot and perfect, lips soft and strong and his hunger just as fierce as Dean's. "Damned if we do," said Sam, nibbling up to Dean's ear and then down his neck, "and Damned if we don't." Sam's teeth found and caught on the already-healed ring on the left, sucking and tugging, the pleasure tinged with pain in all the best ways.
Dean groaned, and felt in that moment like the luckiest man alive.
Sam finally let go of his prize, pressing a tender kiss to the other side before moving down and down, until he was resting between Dean's spread legs and looking up at his big brother like every wrong dream Dean would never admit to having. "If you're going to be a dick and back out, now's the time," said Sam, voice rough.
Dean shook his head wordlessly, spreading his legs wider. "I'm here for you, Sammy," he said, hoping Sam understood all the things he meant by it but didn't know how to say.
Sam nodded and licked, a stripe up Dean's shaft and then a swirl over the head that made Dean wonder in a fit of his own jealousy just who'd taught his little brother how to suck cock. Sam didn't dawdle, obviously getting just how tightly wound Dean was already, and soon enough Dean's modest length was pushing at the back of Sam's throat and his hands were in Sam's hair and stupid nonsense was spilling from his mouth as Sammy sucked his brains out his dick.
He'd have been embarrassed at how little time it took him to explode, if Sam hadn't knelt up, still swallowing, and spurted his own load all over Dean's stomach and chest.
Dean laughed and tugged him down for another of those perfectly wrong kisses, finding that their bodies fit together as though made just for this, slick with sweat and spit and come, and probably even some of that ointment. "No more bar girls?" asked Sam, and then added, "Or guys?"
"No more anybody but you, Sammy," said Dean, knowing that he'd be able to keep his word as long as he always had Sam to come back to. He chuckled and added, "But I'm not lettin' you pierce my dick just to mark your territory."
Sam's answering laugh was all Dean needed. Well, and to show Sam that he wasn't the only Winchester who could give great head.
But that would wait, at least for a little while.