Current mood:	scared
Current music:	Larry King Live; Isaiah Washington
Entry tags:	dean's kink list

Sam/Dean NC-17; "That Would Be My Wallet"
Title: That Would Be My Wallet
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Summary: The bar was practically full, leaving only place for Sam to sit.
Author's Note: This was written when suborbital pointed out to me that I hadn’t written any smexing for awhile. So, I wrote this. Yay.
Kink: Public sex.


“And the bar…” Sam began, looking around the small building, “is full. Come on, Dean, let’s just hit the liquor store. Or go back to the motel.”

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes before grabbing onto Sam’s jacket, yanking him into the bar along with him.

“Christ,” Sam exclaimed, stumbling a bit into the bar. He yanked his arm back from Dean and followed behind him, apologizing every so often when he bumped into somebody. “Dean, it’s packed. Come on. This has gotta be a friggin’ fire hazard.”

“Two please,” Dean said, leaning across the bar to the bartender. He turned around and looked up at Sam, nudging him gently. “Sam, it’s fine. People will leave after a little while. Besides,” he lifted his arms, cracking his shoulders, “that last hunt damn near killed me. And frankly, you’re getting a little clingy.”

“Great,” Sam muttered, taking his beer from the bartender. He looked around at all the people, and started trying to count heads, wondering how many zoning codes they were breaking that night. Sam took a drink of beer, swallowing it down before moving to sit down, jumping in surprise when his ass hit something other than the stool.

“Ha ha, nice try, Sammy,” Dean said, patting Sam’s shoulder. “One stool left, older brother gets it.” He shoved Sam’s back, almost sending his brother to the floor.

Sam straightened up but stayed on Dean’s lap, completely ignoring Dean beneath him. He took another swig of beer, nodding his head to the music coming from the jukebox.

Dean groaned and his head dropped back. “Are you trying to make a--”

“How old do you think that jukebox is?” Sam asked, cutting Dean off. He looked back at Dean, waiting for an answer.

“God,” Dean muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Sam. How much do you weigh?”

“Two ten,” Sam answered, taking another drink.

“Two twenty,” Dean corrected, trying to shove Sam off of him again. “And it’s all on my goddamn dick! Get off of me.”

“I think that’s like, an original jukebox,” Sam nodded slowly, looking back over at it. “I bet there’s an original Buddy Holly album on there.”

“Goddammit, Sam,” Dean whined, leaning against Sam’s back. “You’re trying to make a point, aren’t you? About how full the bar is and how I should’ve listened to you and that you wanna leave.”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t want to leave. It’s okay here. I already got my beer, nice seat.” He patted Dean’s knee before shifting on his lap.

Dean’s breath hitched and he tried to bite back a groan, hoping to hell Sam hadn’t noticed.

Sam stilled and his jaw dropped slightly, before he began to laugh to himself. He kept on laughing, getting louder, looking back at Dean. “Are you serious right now? You’re getting off on this?”

Dean shook his head. “Nope. I’m not. I’m groaning in pain because I have two hundred and freakin’ twenty pounds of demon hunter on my lap!”

Sam stopped laughing but kept on smiling, and shifted again. “So what is that exactly, pressing against my ass?”

Dean shook his head, taking a long drink of beer, gulping it down. “That would be my wallet.”

Sam bit his tongue and tried not to smile as he pressed his hips down, leaning back against Dean’s chest. “So how’s your wallet feeling right now?”

Dean nodded eagerly and pressed his forehead to the back of Sam’s neck, taking a deep breath. “Pretty okay.”

Sam looked around the bar, smiling and nodding politely at other people. He took a drink and swallowed hard, swiveling his hips on Dean’s, gripping onto Dean’s knee, trying to brace himself.

“We’re in public,” Dean said softly, mouth behind Sam’s ear.

Sam nodded, feeling Dean press even harder against him. “I know,” he said, equally as soft, wondering how many people in the bar could tell what they were doing. He worked his hips a little harder, trying to attract the attention of the people sitting at the bar on either side of them.

Dean moaned softly, tongue coming out to lick at that spot below Sam’s ear, breathing harder. “This counts as public sex.”

“I know,” Sam said again, hand shaking slightly as he brought the beer up to his mouth.

“That’s kind of high on my list of kinks,” Dean murmured, pulling back from Sam to take a drink.

Sam smiled, tongue coming out to wet his lips. He pressed down on Dean’s lap, groaning softly when Dean moaned behind him. “You have a list?”

“Every smart man does,” Dean replied, swallowing hard, eyes fluttering shut. He bucked his hips up slightly, needing more contact and friction. “Let’s me know--” his breath hitched when Sam ground down again and his eyes squeezed shut, “what I’ve done.”

Sam nodded slowly, still aware of the fact that anybody in the bar could be watching them, could be knowing what they were doing. At the same time it sent thrills down to his dick and into his hips, making them work hard against Dean, it also scared him shitless.

Dean sat up and wrapped one arm loosely around Sam’s waist, mouthing the back of his neck. “Stop thinking about it.”

Sam nodded jerkily, hand holding the beer bottle tightly. “Te-- tell me. Your list.”

Dean smiled and kissed Sam’s neck, taking a quick swig of beer before clearing his throat. “Public sex.”

“Obviously,” Sam muttered, smiling to himself. His own dick was pressing hard against his jeans, nibbling the inside of his lip as he began making small figure eights on Dean’s lap.

“Pegging,” Dean whispered, pressing his lips to Sam’s sweaty skin.

“What’s that?” Sam asked, glancing back at Dean, mouth opening when he met Dean’s eyes.

Dean smiled, thrusting up against Sam. “Do you know what naïve is?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just tell me.”

“Girl wears a strap-on,” Dean said, thrusting up again. “Fucks the guy.”

“Christ,” Sam gasped, reaching down to subtly press his palm against his zipper, squeezing his dick quickly. “You like that?”

“I like being fucked,” Dean answered. “Which brings me to prostate massage.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked breathlessly. “Can-- can-- my fingers?”

Dean nodded. “Sometimes I like the prep more than the fucking.”

“When we get back,” Sam told Dean, working his hips a little harder, a little faster.

“Spanking,” Dean continued on, worming his hand under Sam’s shirt, fingers splayed across Sam’s abs.

Sam’s fingers gripped the neck of his bottle, scared to let it drop and attract any attention to them. “I can spank you.”

Dean nibbled at Sam’s neck, tongue coming out to sooth the skin. “Big ass paws, it’d be nice.”

Sam looked down at his hand gripping Dean’s knee, nodding. “I have big hands,” he said quietly, flexing his fingers.

“You wanna spank me, Sammy?” Dean whispered, leaning back to take a drink.

Sam nodded eagerly. “You just gotta-- gotta come.” He moved his hand from Dean’s knee and shifted on Dean, hand pressing down on Dean, finding the head of Dean’s cock through the jeans, rubbing it with his palm.

Dean’s eyes squeezed shut and he thrust up again before he came, spilling into his boxers. His breath hitched and he tried not to cry out, head falling forward to rest against Sam’s shoulder.

Sam stopped working his hips and his hand, feeling Dean tremble beneath him. He reached back and set his beer bottle on the counter, standing up slowly.

“Sticky pants,” Dean muttered, grasping onto Sam’s hand, pulling himself up. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his wallet. He tried to open it, but after a couple attempts at it, he looked up at Sam.

Sam smiled and took Dean’s wallet from him, opening it up and grabbing a bill. He set it down on the bar and handed Dean his wallet back. “Can you walk okay?”

Dean nodded, but grasped onto Sam’s arm, staying close to him. “Do you have a list of kinks?” he asked, looking up at Sam.

Sam shook his head. “I’ll just use yours.”

Dean smiled, shivering once they stepped out into the chilly air. “I like sex in the shower too.”

Sam glanced back at Dean, smiling. “Okay, so we’ve got three things we can knock off the list when we get back to the motel.” He reached down and adjusted himself, glancing over at Dean. “Can-- can you maybe like, spank me too?” he asked quietly.

Dean grinned and opened up the car door, climbing in. “Of course, little brother. Anything to help.”