Wincest - Firefly Nights

Fingers brushed summer-cinnamon skin and Sam traced the swirl of ink that spiraled around his brother's bicep. Midnight against tan; a ring of small, intricate coils that stretched each time muscle rippled beneath flesh.

"What are you doing, Sammy?" His voice was a mumble; sleep-drugged and as heavy as the warm Florida air.

"Playing."

It took Sam back to the days of their childhood when Dean could pretend that everything was all right. He would read him children's books, on places as far away as Iceland or as close to home as Kansas, and then they would sneak into the backyard of whatever ramshackle hotel their father had shipped them to and roll through the grass, swing from low tree branches, and dream that they were far away. Wherever they wanted to be. Wherever they didn't have to worry about hiding.

Dean lifted himself onto his elbows. He looked as at home lying shirtless in a hammock as he did sprawled across one of Bobby's spare beds, and Sam's liquid fern-green eyes traced down the planes of his chest.

"With what?" Full lips lifted as Dean ruffled his brother's hair.

Looking up with a pout from where he crouched beside Dean's makeshift lounge chair, Sam said, "Your tattoo. I don't know why you ruin your skin with that shit… but of course, the almighty Dean makes it look… sexy."

Dean caught Sam's mouth in a brief kiss and slid over, the wide, flat material of the woven hammock barely big enough for himself but he wouldn't mind a hot mass of muscle and honey skin pressed snugly against him.

"You want me to fit up there?"

"Yep. Come on, Mr. Tattoo-Fetish."

"I said you make them look good," Sam sighed, but he pulled himself up onto the swing anyway. His frame was broad; barrel-chested and thick-shouldered, tendons corded through his biceps and down the strong width of his forearms. The sleeves of his flannel were rolled to mid-elbow and Dean licked his lips at the display of golden muscle.

"And you make anything look good," he sang. His fingers danced up the crease of Sam's torso and he caught the red-and-white-checkered shirt's collar, pulling Sam down to eye-level. "Mm, the advantages of being shorter than my baby brother"; and he licked the tip of the younger man's nose.

"Dean!"

His name rumbled in Sam's throat, a thundering laugh that scrunched Dean's eyes cutely near the corners.

"Whaaat?"

Sam rubbed his nose into the front of his pristine white tee shirt and frowned at Dean, caramel strands askew on his forehead. The adorability factor of Sam Winchester in that moment, puppy-like  eyes and cheek sucked between his teeth, was enough to draw a coo from Dean's lips.

"Did you just… What was that?" Sam asked, laughing lowly.

"I'unno. Creepy noises are caused by creepy people, Sammy-boy, and you take it to a whole new level of freaky-deeky."

A fist smacked into Dean's chest and he 'oof'ed breathlessly.

"Who even says freaky-deeky anymore?" Sam asked, shouldering his brother to the side and settling into the hammock's woven hold.

Florida was a godsend of endless white beaches, summer nights that lasted as long as millenniums, palm trees taller than skyscrapers and the most beautiful crystal clear skies. You could look out across the water at night and see a million fireflies weaving and blinking in intricate dances.

Evening had just begun to descend on Tampa and Dean could feel his eyelids flutter, nestled in the warmth of his brother's - lover's - side with a strong hand pressed into his back and lips on his temple. This had been the most amazing search for a demon in his lifetime and as sick as it was with a vengeful spirit on the loose, slaughtering innocents, he never wanted Florida to end for he and Sammy.

"What are we gonna do when we get… back?" The word 'home' balanced on his tongue but it brought up memories of Mom and Jess that Dean would never wish for his brother to relive.

Long fingers carded through his hair, slow and comfortable. The air was a blanket on their sun-kissed bodies.

"Well…" Sam pressed a kiss to his temple, then other, his lips clinging to the flesh in thoughtful little pecks. "There's still a lot of hunting to be done, Dean. The Impala needs her oil changed, and she could use a waxing. Bobby said he'd like some help with those old shingles, too, before they 'fall in on his damn head.'"  

Dean traced a soft pattern between the crease of his pectorals and nuzzled Sam's collarbone.

"That's not important," he mumbled, a hopeful glint amidst mint-green pools.

Sam chuckled and breathed against his ear, "Yeah, it kind of is. But here, in Tampa… I think we can find better things to do." He smirked, searching Dean's gaze for a moment before he tipped his chin up and kissed him longingly.

There was a low mumble of pleasure that swirled between their tongues and Dean slid his arms up around Sam's neck, lips parting for a moan.

Their bodies were hard muscle and tendons, barrel chests against solid sides, and it was the most perfect puzzle Dean had ever fit into. He traced his tongue across Sam's lip, thumbing a sharp hipbone, draped over his torso like a lounging cat.

"Mm," Sam murmured, a purr somewhere in his throat.

"You taste even better," Dean said throatily. "Whiskey, oranges, and sunshine…"

"How romantic." He smirked and tugged Dean down for a deeper kiss, fingers sliding through the elder's cropped hair and over the nape of his sunburnt neck.

A low hiss tumbled into Sam's mouth.

"Sorry," he cooed, but Dean only curled his lip and licked across the spray of freckles fanning over Sam's nose. The sun had dealt them a hand - their skin was dark, freckles as brilliant as splotches of cinnamon and each old scar standing out like a flag.

"Shut up," he said, low and husky. "Nothing should be coming out of those lips but my name."

On cue, Dean's thumb pressed into the younger man's hipbone and Sam released a breathy groan of, "Deeean…"

A smile twisted Dean's russet lips, nose sliding down the curve of muscle in Sam's neck. His palms were warm and heavy on hips of marble, mouth like lava against bronze skin.

"G-God," Sam whispered. He twisted and pulled Dean up until the hunter's strong body was lying on his own, knees against knees and collarbones locked snugly. Their lips came together with the fluid, practiced ease of lovers who had mapped each other out decades before.

"Mmm…"

Sam kissed across his cheek to the shell of his ear, tongue flicking out against the skin before he drew the lobe between his teeth and bit down softly. Dean trembled above him, a mewl stirring in his throat.

The orange and purple of the sunset dimmed into a twilight blue, an illumination that gilded the planes of Dean's back. Long fingers traced down the muscle that rippled there; Sam breathed appreciation into his brother's ear as he touched him, fingers trailing over shoulder blades and vertebrae and the dip at the small of his back that always seemed to taste like musk and honey.

Dean's own hands were soft at Sam's shoulders, one thumb pressed into his collarbone as though he could feel the heartbeat in the younger man's neck.

"Mm, want you," he moaned, a symphony on russet lips.

Sam lifted his mouth from Dean's neck, voice like smoke and gravel; "Here?"

"Here."

Long fingers slid beneath cotton and Dean worked at the buttons of his brother's flannel, starting from the bottom until he was able to coax Sam into a sitting position and toss the checkered shirt to the sand.

"Ugh, now it's gross," Sam laughed. The deep ring of his chuckle smoothed into silence when Dean kissed his collarbone, drawing a tiny moan from bruised lips. In the wake of pleasure, he barely noticed or acknowledged his tee shirt being pulled off and tossed aside as well. It was only when Dean pressed him back into the hammock, bare muscle to smooth tan flesh, that he tipped his head back and murmured his brother's name in breathless appreciation.

"Mm, Dean…"

A bead of light took to Dean's ear as he tattooed kisses across Sam's neck, and the taller hunter brushed his shoulder quietly. The wings of the firefly fluttered when it felt the presence of a hand, but it remained perched on Dean's freckle-dotted ear in contentment.

"What are you doing, Sammy?" He sat up to unbutton his jeans, and the motion startled the small bug into flight. Sam watched it softly as it disappeared somewhere over the smooth, glassy waters that framed the beach.

"There was a firefly," he said, without need for further explanation.

Dean shook his head with a warm smile, as brilliant as the sun fading into the horizon.

"You're a dork," he teased, but it was punctuated with a kiss to Sam's Adam's apple when it bobbed with the younger brother's laughter. "You topping or am I?"

He had never been one for romantics, although Sam's eyes were soft as he said, "You."

Night touched the sky and drew lines of ink through fading violet, a mural as wide as the entirety of Florida. Dean's irises seemed to be as deep blue as the sky where darkness had not quite touched, their depths tinged with a sprinkle of stars.

"Mm, look," Sam purred between gentle kisses being pressed across his neck and collarbones. He could see the glimmers of a thousand fireflies beginning to dance across the beach.

Dean flicked a glance through his lashes and smiled into Sam's skin.

"Beautiful," he said, although his gaze was focused on the gentle planes of his brother's relaxed face as he spoke. The warm, descending night and the weight of hands on his back was the fuel to his romanticism, and he touched his lips to Sam's broad chest.

Sam bit his lip with a soft blush, hoping it was invisible in the cover of darkness.

"Mm, make love to me," he sighed, a smile in his voice. He felt Dean's weight shift and lifted his hips to help the elder unbutton and remove his jeans. Warm lips traced his hipbone when Dean settled back between his thighs, coaxing a moan from Sam that seemed to still the fireflies in their dance.

"Good?" Dean asked throatily. His tongue swept across the peak of bone beneath bronze skin.

"Mmhmm," Sam purred in approval.

A firefly swept its path around Dean's head and Sam watched it with lazy interest, eyes half-lidded under the influence of warmth and hands and tongues and sweet, low words kissed into his skin. It skated away on the wind and he returned to watching Dean lavish his hipbones.

A hand slipped from where it rested on Sam's knee to the hunter's upper thigh, thumb brushing in slow strokes over the fabric of his boxers. Dean could feel heat radiating there and it sent a rush through his veins.

"Dean, please," Sam whined. His back lifted into the touch so near his stirring member.

"What, Sammy? Tell big brother."

Teeth sank into Sam's lip and he watched the intricate firefly dance spanning out across the night sky, almost as though the stars had begun to twirl and weave high above. His heart relaxed in his throat at the sight, enough to allow room for speaking.

"I want you inside me. Wanna feel your dick, Dean. Fuck me until I'm screaming so loud, Bobby can hear. So loud Florida can hear."

Dean's cock twitched where it pressed into his brother's inner thigh. He hissed between his teeth, wondering what everyone would think - what Tampa would do, if they were able to hear him fucking his baby brother into oblivion.

"Shit," he muttered. His fingers fumbled for the button of restricting jeans, tugging them down to his ankles and kicking them across the sand with Sam's clothes. His lips found his brother's own without fail, vicious and rough, the bittersweet tang of blood and beer and oranges.

"Ahh," Sam whispered around the probe of Dean's tongue in his mouth.

The elder's hips pushed down when he felt Sam buck and they moaned in unison, Sam's fingers sliding to the sweat-dampened small of his brother's back. His tongue slid through the part of Dean's lips and they collided, tangling together in a fight for dominance that Dean won with ease when he rocked down into the taller man.

"De-eeean…"

Night clung to their bodies, a blanket lying across Dean's strong shoulders. He could hear the rush of waves that rolled into the shore, and the chirp of crickets amongst dark palm trees. The lights were dimming in windows of distant hotels as people took to their beds for sleep. All that was left in that moment was him, and Sammy, and the fireflies that danced across the water for them.

"Hmm?" he breathed into the hollow of his baby brother's neck.

A strong palm slipped down Dean's side and fingers stroked his hipbone, Sam's eyes mellow jade with need.

"Mm, hurry up," he said lazily.

Dean kicked off his boxers and slid down to work at Sam's, tugging them from legs a mile long to toss the material away. His lips tattooed kisses into bronze skin feathered with hair, ankles to calves to knees to thighs, past the throbbing length of Sam's member to his hipbones.

"God, fuck," Sam hissed. Thick fingers cupped the back of Dean's neck, skin sunburnt and soft.

"Such a potty mouth," Dean chuckled, even as two fingers pressed without warning into the pucker of his brother's entrance. It was a tight fit but one that Dean had adapted to after years of falling deeper and deeper for Sam. Velvet and warm, a snug hold on his fingertips that tightened when Sam's muscles pulled taut.

"Yes!" he yelped, hips rolling down into Dean's open palm. His fists curled into the hammock for purchase, teeth ground down against a bruised lip.

"Don't hurt yourself there, Tiger," Dean chuckled. His fingers pushed further and he smirked at the flawless encounter with Sam's prostate, which sent the younger man into a frenzy of squirms and deep, chilling moans. "God, that's hot. Keep doing it, Sammy."

Sam gasped between his teeth as he writhed beneath his brother in ecstasy. His limbs tingled, a fire lit within earthen pools that seemed to shine brighter than each of the fireflies dotting the night.

"J-just come up here and fuck me," he said throatily.

Dean wasn't stupid, he knew when Sam was serious; his fingers slid free and he crawled up until he was staring into beautiful features taut with pleasure, bright with sweat, and as red as a fresh coat of paint on a fire engine.

"Inside?" he asked, sandpaper-rough. "Right here, where anyone can see us?"

"Yes," Sam whined. "Want it. Want them to see."

Dean spit into his palm and slicked himself, a tremble running down the length of his spine at his own touch. He could feel the shift beneath Sam's skin where one hand rested on his hip, as the younger brother squirmed restlessly.

"Hold still, Sammy." His head pressed close the pink pucker of Sam's entrance, and he licked his lips with unrelenting lust. "God. Ngh."

There was a small resistance as he pushed forward but Sam's walls welcomed him gradually, pulling Dean's length further in.

Sam's lips parted around a low moan that seemed to vibrate across the water when he felt himself being filled. It had been a week since Dean had slipped into a dominant role, and even in that short time Sam could feel that he had gotten tighter. He clenched and bucked with the whispering, breathy cries of a virgin girl.

"O-okay?" Dean mumbled.

"Mhmmm."

Strong hips rocked and Dean hissed, his cock nestled balls-deep in the warmth of his baby brother.

"Ahhh, shit. Yes." He licked his lips, watching the pleasure shift across Sam's features in slow waves. He knew there was a small trace of childishness left within the younger hunter, a need for patience and care that he rarely allowed himself to indulge in.

Fingertips slid up the back of Sam's thigh and Dean cupped his knee, pulling it up until one long leg was draped over his shoulder. The other remained pressed to his hip on the opposite side; Sam was eased into a position that filled him with every hot, throbbing inch of Dean, from root to dripping tip.

"O-oh," he breathed, a tiny moan.

Dean pressed a kiss to the knee on his shoulder and nuzzled his nose there, his hips lifting into Sam's slowly. Experimentally.

"Mmf!" Sam whined, a plea for ravaging without words needed.

"Oh, you want it…?" Dean's tongue ached as he bit down to suppress a moan, his cock buried in velveteen heat. "You want me to make you feel good, baby brother?"

"Fuck me!" He pushed his back off the hammock and screamed into his teeth when Dean's tip pressed snugly to his prostate. It was an effortless process; the smacking of hips into a firm ass, muscles tight around throbbing flesh, hands on burnt skin and mouths fused on whatever flesh they could reach to mumble breathless, needy words there.

Dean slid a finger under his chin and tipped Sam's face up into a kiss, their hips moving in fluid tandem to accompany the race of synchronized heartbeats.

A small glance through heavy lashes lit Sam's features with a smile; a firefly was perched on Dean's shoulder, oblivious to the thrusting of the hunter that would have jarred its brethren away. It tickled his freckled skin with legs that went unnoticed, and Sam watched it lazily even as he was ravaged.

"G-god, I'm gonna…"

Dean's words were a growl in his throat, nose pushing deep into Sam's neck to inhale musk and summer and sea salt. He could feel his stomach throbbing; a deep, powerful ache that warned him of release.

"O - Ugh!" Sam pushed his hips into the elder's.

A strong hand slid between their stomachs when Dean tottered on the edge of a shattering orgasm, and he wrapped his fingers around Sam's dick. The strokes were long and slow, a contrast to Dean's thrusts that left his brother's head spinning.

"Shit," he whispered into Sam's mouth. Their lips clung between murmurs and rumbling growls, a lifeline that held them anchored to sanity. "S-Sammy, I… can't. Shit. Shit!"

Dean pushed into his brother's warmth with a solid stroke and felt the ties come undone, his entire world crumbling down around their sweaty forms as release filled Sam to the brim. His hips shuddered and snapped upward in delicious aftershocks that eventually drove Sam over the edge as well; he spilled down the fist haphazardly pumping him to completion with a scream of, "Dean!"

Drowsiness was a welcomed burden on their minds once lust dimmed into exhaustion and the brothers collapsed.

Sam pushed the muscular form draped over his chest to the side and indulged in Dean's whine of displeasure before he finally relented; his face nestled into the elder's neck for a soft kiss against the pulse.

"Ahh, Sammy," Dean breathed contently. His eyes seemed to glow through the darkness.

"Mhm." Their lips slid together for a moment and Sam purred, one fist curled over the shuddering race of his soul mate's heart. His own seemed to somersault in an identical rhythm. "I love you."

Dean's long fingers traced his cheek and he pressed a kiss to Sam's forehead, brushing aside damp locks.

"Love you, too, kiddo," he sighed.

They nestled against one another, naked and chilled in the night air, but content to lie there until morning. All they needed was Sam, Dean, and the fireflies spinning across midnight water just for them.