
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7902289.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Series:
      Part 4 of Dreaming_In_Florescents
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-12-31 Words: 1906
****** Keep the Dirt Off Your Knees ******
by dragonspell
Summary
     Dean wants a desperate handjob in a dirty gas station bathroom.
     Direct sequel to Clements,_Minnesota.
Notes
     Imported from Livejournal 8-28-16.
Title: Keep the Dirt Off Your Knees
Author:
[http://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo.gif?v=17080?v=140.9]
dragonspell
Series: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Underage content (Sam's 15, Dean's 19). Pre-series.
Summary: Dean wants a desperate handjob in a dirty gas station bathroom. Direct
sequel to Clements,_Minnesota.
Word Count: 1800
A/N: Sequel to Dreaming_in_Florescents, Blue_Raspberry, and Clements,_Minnesota
however, you don't need to read them to understand this. Just porn. =) Also, I
so badly wanted to call this fic "Underneath the Texaco Star" after a lyric
from a Trisha Yearwood song that refuses to leave my head but wouldn't you know
it, no Texacos in the entire area. xD
Sequel: Staying_Focused.

“Come on, Sammy,” Dean whispers, kneeling on the black upholstery as he leans
into the backseat of the Impala. He looks up and out the window at his father
who’s gassing up the car, watching the little numbers spin and eat away at
their meager funds. They’re three hours out of Clements and on route to the job
in Wisconsin and they really don’t have much time. He shakes Sam’s shoulder and
Sam finally startles awake.
“Dean?” Sam asks sleepily, squinting at him.
Dean grins. “Yeah, Sammy.” He jerks his head at the gas station. “Come on.”
Sam rubs at his eyes and tilts his head to glance out the window at Dad. “Where
we goin’?”
“Disney World,” Dean snaps. “Gonna go see Mickey Mouse.” He lashes out a hand,
hitting Sam upside the head. “Now, come on.” With a surge of irritation, Dean
sees that Dad is now watching them curiously, one eyebrow raised. Damn Sam and
his insistent need to always ask ‘why.’ He’s going to shoot Dean’s plans all to
shit without even knowing what they are. Dean glares down at Sam, concocting a
cover story off the top of his head. “Knowing you, you probably gotta pee and I
don’t want to have to make any more stops than we have to.” Sam glares but
Dad’s nodding in understanding, a small grin on his face, and that’s really all
that matters.
Sam shoves Dean away, pushing him out of the car while he slides to the end of
the seat and stands up on the pavement. Christ but the kid is getting tall.
He’s already Dean’s height. “Stop treating me like a kid, Dean,” Sam snarls.
“Stop acting like one,” Dean shoots back and grabs Sam’s jacket to pull him
along to the gas station. Sam stumbles but catches himself and shakes Dean off,
stretching out his long legs to get ahead of Dean. Damn moron, anyway…
They’re lucky that Dad chose this gas station which is why Dean knew he had to
wake Sam up. Sam’s never too quick on his feet when he first wakes up but Dean
figures they’re not going to have a chance like this in awhile. They’re lucky,
though, because the restroom’s a single unisex room only accessible from the
outside of the building and guess what, it’s on the other side of the building.
Dean’d already seen it when Dad had pulled in.
Sam reaches the building just before Dean but he moves to enter the station,
not knowing where he’s going. Dean stops him with a hand in his coat again,
dragging him to the side to go around. Sam smacks his hand even as he follows.
“I said stop treating me like a kid!”
Dean yanks him around the corner, just out of Dad’s line of sight and digs his
hands into the old Carhart to drag Sam up close to him. “Trust me, Sammy,” Dean
whispers, putting heat into his voice, “treating you like a kid is the last
thing on my mind.”
Just like that, Sam suddenly gets it, like his brain finally turned over and
started. He reaches out for Dean, eyes dilating, but Dean forces himself to
step away. “Not here,” he says, glancing over his shoulders to see if anyone’s
watching. This side of the station’s fairly deserted, though, except for a
trucker over at the diesel who’s eyeing his tires. “Inside.” Dean’s dick is
already throbbing in his jeans, up and ready for the job and Christ but he’s
going to enjoy the fuck out of this.
It’s been weeks since he’s managed to get laid properly and his balls are
helpfully reminding him of that fact at the moment. They feel like they’re tied
into a knot, they’re so damned blue and if he had to spend another hour in the
damn car he was going to scream.
Sam seems as eager as Dean does, though, stumbling inside the bathroom and
dragging Dean along with him. Dean just barely manages to get the door closed
behind them before Sam’s slamming him against it, fists buried in Dean’s
overshirt. His lips cover Dean’s, tongue thrusting into Dean’s mouth, more
passion than finesse but Dean meets him with an embarrassingly enthusiastic
moan. Dean fumbles for the lock, hearing it snick into place and then he's
wrapping his arms around Sam’s already broad shoulders, dragging the kid up
against him.
Sam’s humping Dean’s leg, grinding his hard cock against Dean’s thigh saying,
“God, yes, Dean, fuck, you feel so good…” and Dean’s never been able to resist
that.
They don’t have much time, either, so he quickly unsnaps Sam’s jeans, shoving a
hand inside them to push down the zipper and palms Sam’s cock. Sam jumps like a
startled horse before he arches against Dean with a throaty moan. “That’s it,
Sammy,” Dean whispers, reaching inside Sam’s underwear to finally touch that
silky hotness throbbing in Sam’s pants. Sam widens his stance.
“Fuck, Dean…” Sam groans, his own hands roughly scraping up under Dean’s shirt
before they delve down inside his jeans. “Yeah,” Sam says, biting his lip and
tossing his hair out of his eyes, “let me do you too…” and Dean can get on
board with that.
Dean whines when Sam closes his big hand around Dean’s dick, stroking all the
way up to the tip and milking out the precome. Dean shudders, leaning against
the door and starts moving his hips, fucking Sam’s grip. Sam’s mimicking him
with Dean’s hand and fuck it’s so goddamned perfect. Sam thrusts a leg between
Dean’s, holding him open and Dean has to bite his lip because he’s a step away
from coming, probably miles ahead of Sam and just who’s supposed to be the
fifteen year old here?
The bathroom’s the same as any other gas station restroom they’ve ever been
in—filthy, cramped and utilitarian—and Dean knows that even as much as he wants
to get his mouth on Sam’s dick, have the kid go insane while Dean’s on his
knees, he doesn’t dare. Sam’s come would taste good on Dean’s tongue, giving
him something to remember for miles, but he’d never be able to get the stains
out of his jeans. So they have to do this standing up, keeping the thick
leather of their boots between them and the dirty floor. Dean’s not even sure
if he trusts his shirt to be looking okay being as it’s rubbing against the
door.
Sam’s breath starts to hitch, his face flushing and Dean moans. Fucking hottest
thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t know what it means that he considers his baby
brother to be hotter than any chick he’s ever slept with, he just knows that
he’s not going to think about it. It’s just who they are and Dean’s more than
okay with just living with that fact. Sam tightens his grip on Dean’s dick and
Dean surges forward helplessly. “Fuck, Sammy,” he pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He
leans forward to pull Sam into another kiss, swirling their tongues together
until they finally break away for air.
“Close, Dean, I’m close,” Sam says, his voice breathy and thin. “God, I’m
gonna…” Dean wants to let him—he wants to let Sam come all over him but Christ,
their father’s right outside on the other side of the building probably
wondering where the hell they are. Dean uses his free hand to grip Sam’s hip,
coaxing the kid into angling away even as he speeds up his strokes. Sam comes
with a choked moan, biting into Dean’s shirt to stop himself from fully
vocalizing and Dean shivers as Sam spills his spunk onto the floor. Sam’s
breath is rasping right beside Dean’s ear and Dean closes his eyes as he feels
himself tipping over too. “Fuck…” he whispers, orgasm wrenching out him almost
painfully. His knees buckle and it’s a damn good thing Sam’s got him shoved
against the door.
Wet lips suck against Dean’s jaw, a tongue flicking under Dean’s ear and Dean
tilts his head to give Sam more access as he slowly comes back down from his
high. “Sammy…” he whispers.
“Fuck yeah,” Sam growls, sounding fucked out and feral and it sends a shiver
down Dean’s spine. “Fuck yeah, yeah it’s me.” He bites down on Dean’s skin and
Dean wants to mock Sam for his caveman tendencies or to at least remind him not
to leave any marks but he just doesn’t have the willpower at the moment.
Instead, he just moans, rubbing softly at the thigh Sam’s still got pressed
between Dean’s legs. “Mine,” Sam’s saying and Dean knows it’s true.
Somehow, they manage to untangle and Dean manages to convince his shaky legs to
hold him. It feels like his brain drizzled out his dick or something but Dean
forces himself to get it working again before he lets them step out of the
restroom. He and Sam check each over quickly to make sure they look decent and
there’s no evidence to give them away besides the self-satisfied smirks they’re
both wearing. Dean winks and hauls Sam towards him to kiss the matching grins
away.
Sam’s hands rise automatically to cup Dean’s ass, squeezing it, and Dean
reluctantly pulls away, breaking the kiss and moving his ass out of Sam’s
reach. They don’t have any time and if Sam keeps that up, they’re going to have
a problem. “Ready?” Dean asks, trying to shove the desire out of his voice.
Sam pouts but nods because he understands just as well as Dean does and Dean
finally unlocks the door.
Dad’s waiting for them in the Impala, fingers tapping against the steering
wheel and he shoots them an impatient glance as they slide back inside the car
but there’s no suspicion in it. Dean buckles his seat belt and glances at his
father. “Four more hours?” he asks and Dad nods.
“Yep.” He starts the car and Dean turns in the seat to glance back at Sammy.
“You gonna be okay back there by yourself, Sammy?” Dean teases, just because he
can. “Need your blankie?” Sam doesn’t even have to move from his position
behind Dad to kick Dean’s seat: he just stretches out one long leg to slam his
boot into the back side.
“Jerk,” Sam says, smiling tightly.
“Bitch,” Dean shoots back with a grin. He can still see the spark of heat in
Sam’s eye and the image of Sam gasping and flushing isn’t that far away. Dean
turns back around and wiggles into a comfortable position, getting set for the
next four hours. He’s pretty sure he’ll be good until them.
Sam’s boot collides with Dean’s seat one more time and Dean grins.
Staying_Focused
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