Sam and Dean had never actually celebrated Valentine's Day. Either they were busy on a case or they were estranged during it, they'd never done any "couples" things. But this year was different. They'd settled into the bunker, and worked out their differences for the most part-- Things were good.
So good, in fact, that Sam decided he'd do something this year, a surprise for Dean. Even being together eleven years, Dean still scoffed at sentimental crap, but he liked it, Sam knew.
Dean was out for the majority of the day, which was fine by Sam, more time to prepare, an all day process for his plans.
The older Winchester arrived back at their bunker at about six, just as Sam was finishing dinner. He ducked out of the kitchen, watching as Dean put away the groceries. He was struck by how beautiful his brother was, even after all these years. When Dean had finished and left, Sam hurried, grabbing the two plates of food he'd hidden and following Dean into the library. There were two candles lit on the table, along with a wrapped box.
"Dean." Sam whispered when he saw Dean had stopped to stare at the table. He turned, his breath catching in his throat. Sam stood with the food in a pair of skintight jeans and nothing else. "Happy Valentine's Day." He whispered, setting the plates down and grabbing Dean in a kiss.
Dean laughed a little, moving back. "Well now I feel bad, I didn't do anything for you."
Sam grinned. "Open the gift. That's for me." Dean gave him a funny look, but opened the tissue paper wrapping, pulling the lid off the silvery box.
Inside was a pair of lace panties in deep burgundy, as well as a dark red leather collar with a small heart tag. Reaching in and flipping it, Dean saw the word 'Jerk' engraved on it. "Put it on." Sam said calmly, sitting down at the table.
Dean stripped shamelessly, slipping on the panties and collar, already half hard at the feel of it. "Can I eat now?" He breathed. Sam knew his deepest kink, his love for utter submission, but rarely played on it, preferring equality and loving things.
Dean sat, tucking his head as he began to eat. "You look pretty like this, De." Sam said softly, smiling as Dean's ears reddened. "Thank you." He whispered, looking up at Sam through dark lashes.
When they finished dinner, Sam cleared the table and cleaned up before hooking his finger in the D-ring. He smiled softly and pulled Dean into the room they usually slept in. On the bed was a series of instruments that made the olders stomach knot and erection weep. A thick belt, one of Sam's older ones by the length, as well as a length of coiled rope and lube.
Dean dropped to his knees by the bed, barely containing his grin. "Thank you, Sammy." Sam smiled, approaching him and leaning over, kissing his mouth. "My pleasure. I know you love this, I wanted to give you something special. But not on your knees. All fours on the bed."
Dean scrambled up, climbing on the bed and getting in position. Sam circled the bed, eyeing his brother with heavy lidded eyes. “You’re so damn gorgeous.” He whispered. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Sammy.” Dean breathed. Sam grabbed the rope and pulled Dean up onto his knees, putting his arms behind his back and tying him in an elaborate pattern of knots. Dean whined softly as the rope rubbed his skin.
“You comfy?” Sam asked, rubbing Dean’s freckled shoulders. He nodded, knowing if he opened his mouth he would end up moaning, or begging.
Sam pressed Dean back onto the bed, shifting the pillows so he could breathe. He pushed his knees apart, running his thumb over the lace covering Dean’s twitching hole. He grabbed the belt and ran it over Dean’s back, scarred from their many hunts. “Have you been a good boy, De?”
Dean’s throat clicked when he swallowed. “No, Sammy, I haven’t… I— I flirted with the cashier at the store.” He murmured. He had flirted, but it was in Dean’s nature to flirt, Sam never held it against him; he knew Dean was his.
But this time… The belt left a red mark on Dean’s thigh immediately, the crack echoing through the room. Dean shouted in surprise, his entire body jerking forward. “Holy shit.” He gasped, burying his face in the comforter. Sam grinned, rubbing the welted skin. “You naughty boy… Dean, you know you’re mine.” He smacked him again, and Dean shuddered, the wet spot on the lace growing even more. “Yours.” He moaned into the fabric.
Sam grabbed Dean’s hair, pulling him up. “I want to hear you scream, big brother. You love this don’t you?” Dean whined, his pride not letting him answer right away. Sam brought the belt down on his thigh again, and it ripped the answer out of his mouth. “Yes! Sam, yes I love it!”
“That’s my boy.” Sam replied, rubbing the welted skin. “You know, De, I didn’t think you’d look so good like this… Needy and spread out, like some little whore.” He commented casually, squeezing Dean’s ass in his large hands.
Dean pressed back against him, groaning. “Please Sammy…” His voice was thick with need.
“What do you need, huh, Dean?” Sam asked, bringing his lips down to graze over Dean’s spine. Goosebumps followed in the wake of his lips, and Dean’s fingers fisted against the ropes binding his hands to his back. “I need you.”
“Uh-huh. And what do you need little brother to do to you?” Sam asked, his tongue flicking out, barely grazing the skin under the panties.
“In me…” Dean panted. “Fuck me.”
Sam’s full body laugh only served to make Dean even harder. “No. Not yet. I spent all day planning this for my pretty boy, and I’m not gonna let it go that quick… I’m gonna make you feel good first…” He ran his hands down Dean’s sides, his fingers catching in the panties. With an exaggerated slowness, he pulled them down, just past the curve of Dean’s round ass. Giving a hard squeeze to each cheek, he bared his hole, suppressing a gasp. Though he’d been in this relationship with Dean for years, his brothers unabashed beauty always took him by surprise.
Not wanting to leave Dean without pleasure for too long, Sam leaned down, nipping the rosy, puckered flesh. Dean mewled, arching back. Sam grinned into his ass, lapping and nibbling at the twitching flesh. Dean’s hips stuttered against his face, groaning and grunting against the bed.
Sam moved away only when Dean was a wet mess, his hole twitching, shining with spit and red from the bites. He could hear Dean crying, muffled, and rubbed his ass, his thumb pressing against the muscles. “Talk to me, De.” He said softly. This may have been a fantasy of Dean’s, but he wouldn’t ever hurt his brother. Dean nodded, turning his head to catch Sam’s gaze. “It feels so good, Sammy… I need more. I’m aching for it.”
“I know you are, big boy.” Sam said, pressing his thumb harder, until it slipped into the spit wet channel. Dean whined, pressing back on the digit. “Please!” He groaned, and Sam laughed. “Do you need to come?”
“Yes!” Sam laughed again and withdrew his thumb. He grabbed the bottle of lube and slicked two fingers, pushing them into Dean without warning, just to hear that beautiful scream once again. He didn’t bother letting his brother adjust when he began thrusting them to the deepest knuckle, pushing against one side then the other.
Dean struggled to stay still, his stomach knotting painfully. He didn’t believe Sam would ever be willing to do this with him, but he was so glad, so proud of his brother.
When Sam pushed the first two fingers of his left hand in next to the ones already in him, Dean saw stars. Sam was big, but he’d never needed to use more than three to prep Dean during sex. Four was more than he’d ever had, and the burn was better than anything he’d ever experienced.
Sam used the fingers to pull Dean open, groaning at the beautiful sight only he had the privilege to see. He leaned down, flicking his tongue over Dean's exposed channel, moaning at the taste.
Dean sobbed again, reminding Sam of how needy he was. He moved back, placing an apologetic kiss on Dean's back before shifting to one hand, three fingers. He began to pound them Dean, pressing and rubbing his prostate every few thrusts.
Dean pushed back on the fingers, whining.
Dean's moans were increasing in volume as his body relaxed for Sam's fingers, drawing closer to that edge he sought.
Sam shivered when Dean clamped down on his fingers, shouting Sam's name.
Sam moved back, off the bed, and smiled at Dean, who was still shaking from his orgasm. He stretched out next to him on the bed, his denim clad erection inches from Dean's face.
The older hunter shuffled over, mouthing where he could see the outline, pressed tight against Sam's hip. Sam ran his fingers through Dean's short hair. "Wanna suck it?" He asked, canting toward Dean's mouth. Dean smirked and shook his head. "No, I want you to wreck my throat." He confessed, looking up at Sam.
Instead of finding the surprise or judgement he expected, Sam was looking down at him, his lips parted and his eyes blown black. Dean had never offered to deep throat, that was usually Sam's area. To have him ask... Sam wasn't crazy enough to turn that down.
His cock was out and brushing against Dean's lips within seconds, not giving his brother a chance to back out. Dean didn't even attempt to. He simply grinned up at Sam. "Gonna fuck big brother's throat, Sammy? Make me hoarse?" He asked, his tongue darting out to lick the precum dewing on his tip.
Dean opened his mouth when Sam's hand went to his head. Sam bucked up at the same moment he pushed Dean's head down, savoring the sounds his brother made as he gagged. He let him up seconds later, letting Dean catch his breath before picking up a punishing pace. He set one hand on Dean's throat, feeling it bulge on every deep thrust, his eyes drawn to Dean's perfect lips, stretched wide around his cock.
When Dean's hips began to jump, fucking the air, Sam knew it was time. He pulled free of Dean's mouth, momentarily taken aback by how damn good his big brother looked, cheeks red, eyes wet, face covered in spit and precum. He was gasping for air, his moans sounding more like wheezes.
Sam stroked his cheek, smiling. "Relax, De. I'm gonna make it all better... You did so good. Just a little more, okay?" He grabbed his knife and sliced the rope, freeing Dean's arms. Dean collapsed, humping the bed weakly while Sam got ready for their final act. He grabbed his desk chair and Sat down, facing the mirror.
After slicking his already soaked dick, he motioned for Dean. He pulled the panties back up and turned him so he was facing the mirror, and pulled him down. Pushing the lace to the side, he lowered Dean, pressing into his tight, slick channel with a groan.
When Dean's back was pressed tight to Sam's chest, the younger man grabbed the collar, locking gazes with Dean in the mirror. "Look how pretty, Dean. You look so good, stretched out on baby brother's dick." He said his hands down and tweaked Dean's nipples. "Take what you need, De. I know you wanna come again, go ahead."
Dean whined and grabbed Sam's knees, picking up a quick, even pace as he rode Sam. He kept his eyes on their reflection, watching Sam's face contort with pleasure.
Sam grabbed Dean's throat again, his mouth going to his ear. "Come on, Dean. Ride baby brother... No need to go slow."
Dean shouted at Sam's words, picking up his pace. Sam grinned, whispering words of encouragement for Dean as his body began to ignite, his orgasm approaching rapidly.
Dean shouted as he came, soaking the panties again. He didn't slow down, hearing Sam's pleas behind him.
He heard Sam shout his name, fingers tightening on his thighs, and felt the warmth of Sam's cum flood his insides. It was only after Sam slumped against his back that he slowed to a stop, relaxing into his little brother's embrace.
Sam scooped Dean up when he was sure his legs would hold him, laying him out on the bed. He moved down quickly, smiling at Dean's sleepy, surprised expression. "Just relax, Dean." Sam coaxed, rubbing his thighs with gentle circles. He spread his ass and ran his tongue over his swollen hole, grinning when he tasted himself. He began to suck and lick with abandon, grunting softly at Dean's tired moans.
When he was sure Dean was as cleaned out as he could be, Sam rose, shucking off his jeans. He pulled the panties off and smiled softly. Dean was half asleep, spread out on the bed. He went to the sink and wet a cloth, climbing next to Dean.
"Talk to me." He said softly, running the cloth over Dean's face. Much to his surprise, Dean didn't argue with the intimacy, only leaned into him more. "Tired..." He whispered, his throat scratchy. "Okay, we'll let you sleep... Was it good?" Dean smiled, laughing tiredly. "It was perfect, Sammy... Thank you."
"My pleasure." Sam unhooked the collar and laid it on the nightstand, moving the cloth over his neck and down his chest. "Happy Valentine's Day." Dean grinned, rubbing his eyes. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sammy."
Sam cleaned Dean from head to toe, careful to remove any traces of their actions, save for the bruises forming on his thighs and neck. "Go to sleep, brother." He whispered when he tossed the cloth aside.
Dean snuggled up to him, burying his head in Sam's chest. "Do you love me, Sam?" He asked after a long moment. Sam scowled, surprised by the question. "What? Of course I do, Dean. You're my whole world."
"Please don't leave again... Don't-- Don't sacrifice yourself anymore."
Sam smiled against Dean's hair. "That's kind of our job."
"Then we'll quit." Dean said, the statement shocking Sam into moving back, meeting Dean's gaze. "Dean, we've got Amara, and the monsters and demons..."
"Amara is on us, but after we kill her. After we put her down, let's stop. We're too old for this crap. I just wanna stop. I wanna spend the last half of our lives happy... Instead of looking over our shoulders. We can live here, start up the Men of Letters again... Be book geeks instead of hunters... Maybe get married..."
"Just maybe. I mean, we don't have to." Dean backtracked, his face flushing red. Sam grinned and pulled Dean against him again.
"Yeah, Dean, I wanna marry you too. Always have. We'll quit, after Amara." Dean nodded against his chest.
They laid peacefully, until Sam laughed. "You know you pretty much proposed to me on Valentine's Day. You romantic." He teased, and Dean kicked him lightly. "Shut up, Sasquatch." He muttered against Sam'a chest. Then, "but you wanna quit? For sure?"
"Yeah, Dean. Now sleep. I love you." Dean smiled, kissing Sam's chest.
Sam laid awake, long after Dean was snoring in his arms. He knew the words were lip-service. They wouldn't quit, not really. Hunting was too much a part of them. But it was comforting to think they could, would, someday.
It didn't matter, in the long run. Sam loved his life, as twisted as it was, because he had Dean. They were home with each other, come what may, and that was all either ever needed.