Kinktober Day 8: Frottage, Lingerie, Asphyxiation
Ship: Dean/Sam
Rating: Explicit
Tags/Warnings: Frottage, Blood, Blood Kink, Panty Kink, Dean in Panties, Incest, Sibling Incest, Murder, Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Alternate Universe – Serial Killers, Under-negotiated Kink, Pre-Winjimstiel
Part of the Peacemaker Winjimstiel Serial Killer ‘Verse
AO3 Link

Dean’s tearing down the back roads of the Oklahoma panhandle, music blaring and whooping at the top of his lungs.

“Never gets old, does it, Sammy?”

Sam chuckles. He’s holding an old pair of underwear turned shop rag against his face. Their last mark didn’t want to go down without a fight, and he managed to get a decent slice into Sam’s cheek before Dean got a cord around his neck. If the asshole would’ve been up and over by about an inch Sam probably would’ve lost an eye. He is going to wind up with a nasty scar though.

“Jesus,” Dean breathes. The car flies up over a bump in the road and they sail through the air for a good three feet before coming back down with a thud. “Sorry sweetheart,” Dean says.

“You talkin’ to me or the car?” Sam teases.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t be jealous. She’s my lady but you’re still my favorite.”

“Hey, there’s a rest stop in 10,” Sam says, gesturing to the side of the road.

This is how they wind up most nights after a job. Occasionally, they’ll make it to another town and book a room before the sun comes up but most of the time that just isn’t the case. They’ll pull off to a rest-stop, crack open a beer, take a whore’s bath in the tiny bathroom sinks and fall asleep in the car. Dean is always up before the sun and then they’re on to the next one. When they were little their father used to say they were like avenging angels. He’d say they were around to smite the wicked and be gone before the rest of the world was awake enough to know what happened. “Like thieves in the night,” their dad would say.

Dean pulls off into the rest stop and shuts off the car. It’s a quiet little nothing pit stop in the middle of nowhere, just the two of them, a couple of picnic benches, and a unisex bathroom hut under a tree. Dean hits the overhead light, sighing as he listens to the engine tick as it cools. Sam pulls the rag away from his face. He looks more flushed than usual in the yellow light, but that could have something to do with the fact that his face is covered in drying blood. And all at once Dean’s struck with the sick realization in the pit of his guts that they’d had a close call. Sam’s okay, but he could’ve lost an eye and god forbid if that bastard would’ve had a gun on him.

“What?” Sam asks, frowning.

Dean doesn’t say anything, he just launches across the seat and kisses him. Sam doesn’t respond at first, but when he does he’s demanding, wrapping his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulling him in for hungry kisses. It turns into a frenzy quickly, with Sam slipping his tongue into Dean’s mouth, Dean tangling his fingers in Sam’s hair, nails scraping across exposed flesh and teeth biting into lips.

Sam guides Dean down onto his back, rising up on his knees. He smacks his head on the roof of the car and swears. Dean chuckles, and Sam bites him in response. Sam reaches back and undoes the lock on the door, kicking it open with his foot. He rearranges them so his feet are on the ground outside, but he’s pressed to Dean’s body at every other point of contact.

The adrenaline still rushing through his veins makes Dean sloppy, the fear makes him desperate. Dean can taste Sam’s blood as he kisses up and down Sam’s face. He wants to taste Sam’s blood and sweat and come. He wants to wrap himself around him and stay that way. Sam’s hands are trembling but his lips are sure, stealing the breath from Dean’s lungs at every chance he gets. He undoes Dean’s pants as Dean squeezes his ass.

“Really, Dean?” Sam says, pulling back.

“What?” Dean asks, lifting himself up on his elbows, “What’d I do?”

Sam reaches down and snaps the waistband of Dean’s pink silky panties.

“Hey!” Dean flinches when the elastic hits his skin.

“Panties? Really?”

Dean shrugs. “They make me feel sexy.”

“On a case?”

“And?”

Sam shakes his head, pressing the heel of his palm into Dean’s erection. “What if we got arrested? You wanna go to jail in these pretty panties?” Sam asks.

Dean groans, rolling his head back against the leather seats. “It’d give the cops something to jerk off to.”

“What if we died?”

“Sam, don’t. Don’t talk about that.”

“No, Dean,” Sam strokes his hand up and down Dean’s cock. The silk slides against the warmth of his cock in a maddening way. “What if we died? You wanna go to the morgue in silky women’s underwear?”

Dean shudders. “They better bury me in ‘em then.”

Sam snorts, sliding Dean’s panties down and under his balls. They’re a little tight, and the elastic cuts into his skin and Dean wants to adjust and pull away, but Sam undoes his jeans and pulls his own cock out. Sam leans over him, one hand braced on the back of the bench seat, one had next to Dean’s head. Their dicks line up next to each other and then Sam starts thrusting.

Dean moans, drifting his hand up Sam’s arm and clutching Sam’s shoulder. It’s all Dean can do to hold on. Sam’s got the advantage of the angle, and forceful, hungry thrust leaves Dean reeling. Sam’s jeans scrape against Dean’s thighs and the friction of their cocks against each other is a little rough but he doesn’t care. The pressure is too good. The sweat and pre-come isn’t great lube, but it’s thrilling in its own way. That’s his brother’s pre-come dribbling on his stomach, mixing with his own sticking to his skin. That’s his sweat Sam’s cock is sliding through.

Dean moans, digging his nails into the three layers covering Sam’s back. If they were naked, he’d dig them into the skin – he’d draw blood and mark Sam so everyone who saw would know Sam was taken, so they’d know Sam was his.

Sam’s grunting now, huffing when he exhales. He’s close. They both are. It doesn’t take a lot after a case, not really. Sam wants to take, to strip Dean bear from the inside out and make him scream. Dean’s more than willing to give him that, and more.

Sam shifts his angle, lifting his hips up and driving forward quicker.

“Sam, fuck, do that again!” Dean whines. He’s making high pitched little whimpers every time the heads of their cocks nudge against each other.

Then Sam does something that Dean doesn’t expect. He takes the hand that’s been lying next to Dean’s head and sets it down on Dean’s throat. He squeezes once, and Dean gasps and shudders.

“Fuck.” Dean’s going to burst at any second. He’s ready to burst, but he just can’t get there yet. He’s in that wonderful period right before orgasm, that cliff’s edge where he could hang forever in pure bliss.

Sam presses down against Dean’s neck again, his thumb digging into that divot in the skin between his collar bones. Dean gasps, but he can’t get any air. His body starts to buzz and everything is ramped up to eleven. His body twitches, trying to fight even though he knows he doesn’t want to. He digs in harder to Sam’s shoulders, pulling the fabric taut against his back. Sam smirks down at him and just as Dean’s vision starts to blur, Sam lets him go.

Dean pulls in a wheezing breath and comes hard. He’s moaning as soon as he’s able, his whole body bucking upwards into Sam’s. Sam doesn’t stop, not until he comes too, spilling over Dean’s still twitching cock.

They lay together for a while, just catching their breath. Sam’s heavy and the position they’re in is not comfortable but Dean doesn’t’ really care.