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Dr. Sexy Sammy

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Dean is stretched out on his bed when Sam walks in.

“So. Dr. Sexy is on Netflix now,” Sam says, nonchalantly, his arm hooked behind his back as he leans in the doorway to Dean’s room.

“Oh? I, uh, didn’t realize people still watched it.” Dean’s face makes that exaggerated frown that means without a doubt that he’s lying.

“Right,” Sam says, trying to hide his smirk. “Well, I watched an episode just to see how much of a menopausal woman you were, and you know what I noticed, Dean?”

“That the hot chicks made it worth it?” Dean asks without looking up, suddenly preoccupied with the remote. Sam rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue.

“That Dr. Sexy and I could be twins.” Dean looks up then, a ripple moving across his face as he tries to school his features.

“Oh.” Dean’s mouth is suddenly very dry as Sam locks eyes with him.

“Yeah, oh,” Sam agrees, taking a couple steps toward Dean’s bed, the soles of his shoes thudding on the hard linoleum and drawing Dean’s attention from his brother’s eyes down to his feet.

“You’re,” Dean pauses, licks his top lip, “You’re wearing cowboy boots.”

“Am I? Huh,” Sam says, looking down at where the boots jut out from the hem of his jeans. “That’s weird, I also have this,” Sam continues, moving his arms from behind his back. In his hands, he holds a white lab coat which he slowly pulls on. Dean watches, silent, lips parted.

“Holy fuck,” Dean breathes once the white fabric settles over Sam’s shoulders. Dean clears his throat, his trademark cocky grin settling over his features. “Doctor.”

“And what seems to be the problem today, Mr. Winchester?” Sam asks, stalking over to Dean and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Well, see,” Dean says as Sam moves onto pressing his lips to Dean’s throat, “I’ve got this little brother, he’s kinda a pain in the ass, if you catch my drift--” Dean grunts at the smack that earns him-- “and he, uh, keeps finding ways of driving me insane--”

“And this brother,” Sam whispers into Dean’s ear, “You’re close?” Sam returns to licking over the shell of Dean’s ear.

“Oh, definitely. Don’t think we could get any closer to be honest.” Sam chuckles and bites Dean’s collarbone. “But, uh, he keeps giving me these really, really inconvenient boners.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, do you think you could help me with that, Dr. Sexy?” Dean asks, his voice perfect innocence, but his face breaking into a cheeky smile.

“Oh, I think I know just the thing,” Sam says, tugging down Dean’s sweats to get a look at his brother’s cock. “Is this the sort of inconvenience you were talking about?”

“Yeah.” Dean swallows hard as Sam takes Dean’s cock in his hand and strokes it a couple times.

“Hmm, this only seems to worsen the situation,” Sam says, “I think we might need to take another approach.” He reaches for the lube in the nightstand, smearing cold gel over Dean’s puckered hole, making Dean inhale sharply. “This might be a bit uncomfortable,” Sam says in a much more methodical tone than he feels as he presses a finger into the heat of his brother.

Dean is out of breath by the time Sam gets two fingers in, heels nudging impatiently at Sam’s shoulder blades.

“Come on, Doctor, what’s taking you so long?”

“Such an impatient patient,” Sam huffs, but leans up, presses the fat head of his cock past Dean’s rim and slides in slow. Soon, Sam’s hips are snapping, driving his cock into Dean with loud smacks of sweat-slick skin against skin.

“Fuck, Sammy, gonna, gonna--”

“Come on, Dean, wanna see it, come on--”

Heavy grunts and whimpers fill the space between their bodies as they draw apart and crash back together. Dean’s nails bite into Sam’s back, Sam’s teeth indent his brother’s neck, and then there’s a shuddering, groaning as Dean arches up, white spurting across his chest, Sam’s eyes practically rolling into the back of his head as he follows Dean over the edge, slumping heavily over Dean.

Later, after they’ve cleaned up and are laying in bed, Sam wrapped around Dean with his big limbs and his pointed nose teasing the hairs at the base of Dean’s skull, Sam whispers, “Did you know, even back then?”

“Know what?”

“That you wanted this, me.”

Dean is quiet for a long time, and Sam figures he isn’t going to get an answer when Dean whispers, “I’ve always known, Sammy.”

Sam nods, satisfied, and curls even closer into Dean.