dime_liora | No Fluffer Necessary

Title: No Fluffer Necessary
Author: dimeliora
Wordcount: 3,376
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Dean/Sam
Warning(s): Shameless Porn
Beta(s): Why,

sammichgirl of course. :D
Prompt(s): Written for the

smpc and the wonderful

deansdirtybb, who does a wonderful job wonderfully.
Disclaimer: I don't own what I built on, but I own what I built. Gif stolen from Tumblr.
Summary: The boys need money, and Dean has an idea.

“You can’t be serious Dean. Tell me you’re not serious.”

If Sam’s bitchface got any more intense Dean was pretty sure one of them was going to go up in flames.

“We’re not getting anywhere with hustling Sammy, and the credit cards are still too hot to try. Look, it’s one time. Just one. We do this and we get enough cash to fix the Impala and get out of here. Anyway, it might be fun.” His wink got him a punch to the shoulder and a hard glare.

Honestly Dean was sort of excited about the prospect, because any kink experienced with Sam was a good one, but he knew better than to hope that Sam would instantly agree. In private his brother could be the neediest kind of slut, but in public? In public Sam was the world’s biggest prude. Too interested in the opinions of others for the kind of self-expression Dean structured his life around.

Still, he was banking on the restlessness and tension that had been building up in the last week as they stayed stranded in L.A. with a cracked engine block and two thrown rods. Hoping against hope that in the end Sam would be so eager to get out that he would go along with Dean’s crazy plan.

“What if someone sees it and knows us Dean? That would negate every damn precaution we’ve taken over the last ten years.”

Eleven, he didn’t say out loud, because Sam wouldn’t appreciate being corrected. Dean remembered the first time all too well, hot breaths and stolen touches, coming in his pants as he and Sam rubbed off against each other with Dad sleeping in the next room.

“Nobody we know is gonna see this Sammy, and if they do would they admit to it?”

He saw the moment he won, the moment Sam’s face became thoughtful instead of condescending. It wouldn’t be immediate, but it was going to happen.

“No way, man. Just no way.”

---

Two days later Sam slammed a bowl of Chef Boyardee in front of Dean and slumped into the seat across from him.

“Who tops?”

Dean just barely managed to suppress his grin as he repeated the pitch the man had given him.

---

And that’s basically how he finds himself standing in the giant entranceway of a palatial home that the film company is renting for who knows how much a day. The suit they have him in is slightly nicer than the one he wears when he’s playing agent, and Dean resists the urge to adjust the tie they’d put on him.

When the doorbell rang Dean stepped forward, turned the knob, and ran the lines he’d hastily memorized through his head as a shabbily dressed Sam was exposed.

They’d found jeans that clung to every line of his brother’s long legs and tight ass, white patches worn through to show golden skin, and a thin t-shirt that Dean imagined would rip at just the right touch. He hadn’t seen Sam since his brother was whisked off to a different part of wardrobe, and he swallowed thickly trying not to break the paper-thin character they’d written him and throw Sam against the wall right here.

Do you need a fluffer they’d asked, and Dean had laughed himself teary-eyed.

“Are you Mr. Campos? I’m supposed to interview for the gardener position.” Sam’s eyes were huge, innocent, and Dean had honestly forgotten how good a liar his brother could be when it was necessary.

“You came for an interview dressed like that? Well get in here. I’m a busy man.” He let lust add gravel to the timbre, and Sam wasn’t able to hide how much that voice always affected him. Dean headed down the hall they’d plotted out into the big living room. The cameraman positioned in front of the couch shot them both a look before following their progress across the room and towards the heavily padded couch.

Dean took a seat, watched as Sam acted unsure before taking the opposite end, and then slid his hands along the silky trouser legs as he leaned in. He’d never understood why porn had to have so much useless and cheesy dialogue.

“So how much experience do you have in gardening?”

Sam licked his lips and glanced downwards, hands playing nervously with a long thread on his jeans.

“Well, uh, I don’t have much. I worked for a landscaping company for a few months, and I clerked at a gardening shop. But I really love gardening and I’m very good at it. I like getting on my knees and digging my hands into the work.” Sam blushed, and Dean doubted it was faked for the sake of the cameras.

“I see. Do you have any questions before I try you out?” That’s not the exact line, but Dean thinks it has just the right amount of innuendo to slide by the director’s expectations.

“In the ad you said there were, um, other duties? I was wondering what those were?” Sam’s eyes flick up to him and then back down, every line in his body radiating what might be honest nervousness.

“I already have a main gardener. You’d be spending your time on your knees tending to my private garden.” Dean winced internally at the dialogue and forced a small leer onto his face.

Sam wrung his hands for a moment before looking up to meet Dean’s eyes.

“I d-don’t understand sir. What do you mean?”

The “sir” wasn’t in the line, and Dean shifted as his cock pressed uncomfortably against the trousers.

Instead of answering, because at the moment whatever the line was he couldn’t remember it, Dean unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out without breaking eye contact with Sam.

“Get over here. On your knees.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and then he scrambled up and off the couch before sinking to his knees on the floor and licking a stripe from the base of Dean’s cock to the head, tip of his tongue circling the swollen flesh and catching a drop of pre-come.

“Like this sir?”

Dean nodded once and stroked Sam’s hair. “Just like that. Good boy, lick my cock just like a good boy and the job is yours.”

The cameraman moved, closing in on the sight of Sam’s pink lips stretching around Dean’s cock, his eyes fixed on Dean’s face to ignore what was going on around them. Still, Dean felt his tongue falter and he stroked Sam’s soft hair before sending a look the director’s way.

They had to drag this part out, and while Dean usually wouldn’t turn down an extra-long bit of blowjob foreplay Sam wasn’t digging the audience. Dean slipped off one of the ridiculous loafers they’d put on him and then used his toes to stroke along Sam’s inner thigh.

“Focus baby boy, more suction on that cock.”

Sam moaned around his mouthful, hips thrusting and angling so that Dean’s toes would give him friction on his cock. The wet suction around his dick increased as Sam’s mouth pulsed around his shaft and one long-fingered hand gripped the base and began to massage in time with Sam’s tongue.

“That’s it, that’s a good boy. Get that cock nice and wet because I’m gonna sink it so deep in your tight little ass you’ll be feeling me for days.”

Hazel eyes snapped up to meet Dean’s gaze, and Sam jerked against his toes as his hand spasmed around Dean’s dick. Well, message received.

“Surprised Sweetheart? You shouldn’t be. Pretty as that pink mouth is wrapped around my dick I can’t hire you on your excellent cock-sucking alone. I wanna see how good your little hole tastes. Gonna lick you ‘til you’re crazy with it, begging for my big old dick, and then you’re gonna ride me ‘til your legs give out and you can’t handle it. Fill you full of come and leave you limp and exhausted.”

Sam’s dick jerked against Dean’s toes, and his cheeks hollowed as he sucked the head of Dean’s dick so hard it almost hurt. Dean tugged on his hair once before looking over at the director and getting the nod.

“Up baby boy. We’re taking this interview to the bedroom.”

All of Dean’s hard work at distracting Sam was ruined in transit between the living room and the master bedroom. The room itself was huge, bare minus the giant bed and its silk sheets, and Dean stroked himself a bit to hold onto his erection while the crew set up and checked the lighting.

Sam shifted nervously beside him before leaning in and whispering in Dean’s ear.

“I don’t – Dean I don’t think I can do this. There’s a lot of people staring at us.”

Of all the things Dean wouldn’t attribute to himself a lack of quick thinking was never on the list. He tangled his fingers into Sam’s long hair and pulled his brother in for a deep kiss, lips sliding slickly on lips, before delving his tongue in to chase out the remaining taste of himself from Sam’s mouth.

When he pulled back Sam’s eyes were slightly dazed, and a brush of Dean’s fingers confirmed that Sam was at least partially there with him.

“It’s ok Sammy. I got you. I promise you won’t notice them a bit alright?”

Sam nodded, eyes darting around the room, and then the director called them to their places. They stood in the doorway until they got the thumbs up, and then Dean shoved Sam roughly onto the bed. His brother bounced once on the huge mattress before looking up at Dean through his shaggy hair.

“Strip. I want to see what I’m thinking about investing in.”

Big hands shook as Sam crossed them over at his waist and pulled the thin shirt over his head. From there Sam’s eyes stayed downcast as he toed off his shoes, undid his pants, and pushed them down in a practiced move that took his socks with them. Dean had always suspected Sam practiced that move specifically because he knew how ridiculous Dean always looked taking his socks off.

Dean licked his lips, and then circled the bed as he hooked his fingers into his tie and then jerked hard enough to pull it open without losing the knot. Sam watched his progress, eyes focused on Dean’s hands as he pulled the tie over his head and then stopped near Sam’s head.

“Tilt up.” It wasn’t in the script, but Dean knew Sam needed this. That there was no other way his brother would be able to enjoy the experience.

Sam obediently tilted his face towards Dean’s, and Dean slid the tie down over his eyes before pulling the knot tight again. He brushed a lock of hair out of Sam’s mouth before bending down and taking Sam’s lips again. His brother tasted like sex and desperation, and Dean moaned into that familiar mouth as his erection hit full force again. He pulled back and brushed the head of his cock against Sam’s lips.

Without instruction or need Sam opened his mouth and took Dean’s cock, sliding down as far as he could with his hands pressed against Dean’s thighs. Dean met the director’s eyes as he thrust a little deeper towards Sam’s throat.

“Want you up on your knees Sweetheart. Want you presenting that tight little ass; because in just a few minutes I’m gonna spear you on my tongue. Lick and suck that rim until you’re fucking crazy with it.”

Sam dropped his hands from Dean’s thighs onto the mattress and lifted up onto all fours so fast Dean needed to bite his cheek to remind himself he was supposed to be a toppy bastard and not completely smitten with how wanton Sam got after a little dirty talk.

He undid the buttons on the cuffs of the shirt first before taking the rest off one at a time. This was for the camera, and Dean kept the movement of his hips going as he fucked Sam’s mouth and stripped off the dress shirt. The undershirt slid off easily, and Dean was left in the argyle socks they’d chosen for him and the suit pants.

Several minutes of working his length in and out of Sam’s mouth had Dean desperate for a little bit more, and the obscene pop when he pulled out coupled with the way Sam leaned forward instinctually to try to recapture the taste had Dean on edge. He circled his brother and tried to be suave about sliding the socks off before he dropped the trousers on the floor and climbed up behind Sam.

The sight of Sam’s tight ass bobbing in front of him, cock hanging heavy and hard beneath, had Dean’s mouth watering, and he slid his hands gently along the length of Sam’s thighs and up until he reached the muscular globes of his little brother’s ass.

“Doing ok baby boy? Still want my tongue in you?”

Sam moaned, slid his knees wider on the silky top sheets, and sunk his shoulders closer to the bed.

“Please – oh please eat me. Please fucking eat my ass. Please.” Sam sounded wrecked, broken, and Dean couldn’t resist teasing him a bit. He used his fingers to spread Sam’s cheeks wide before slipping the tips in to circle the tight hole. Dean felt the presence of the cameraman behind him, and for the first time he questioned the intelligence of allowing others to see a side of Sam that had been exclusively his for so long.

Something animalistic and possessive reared up, and what came out of Dean’s mouth next was certainly not scripted or exactly in character.

“Such a little slut for me aren’t you baby? Just need any little piece of me you can get.” He spread Sam’s ass wider and licked a broad stripe over the furled hole, eliciting a sharp gasp and buck from Sam. Dean pressed his lips against Sam’s hole and spoke in his lowest, gravelliest tone. “But just for me. So proper and fucking innocent everywhere else, but when it comes to me you’re just the most desperate little thing ever ain’t’cha?”

The vibrations, the tone, and the words hit Sam hard, and his brother moaned low and bucked forwards seeking friction on his cock before returning his ass to Dean’s mouth.

“Yes, yes, yes, yours, your slut, please, please lick me, please.”

And who was he to resist such temptation? Dean licked his way around Sam’s rim, scraped his teeth lightly against it, before dipping his tongue into the tight hole as far the muscles would allow.

Pornographic was a joke, Sam’s mouth ran on auto-pilot as he clawed at the sheets and thrust back onto Dean’s tongue.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck please, yes, fuck, yes.” Sam reached back desperately grabbing at air before his hand found Dean’s hair and grabbed it painfully.

The muscle was giving way, and Dean’s tongue was sliding deeper into Sam as he moaned at the taste of his brother and the way Sam was begging and pleading for more. Spit dripped down his chin as he dug in as far as possible and released one of Sam’s cheeks to stroke his brother’s rock hard cock.

He pulled back long enough to look at his handiwork, Sam’s hole was loose and sloppy with his spit, and then Dean moved up to his knees and stroked along Sam’s flank.

“Gonna fuck you now baby boy, gonna stick my dick in even deeper than my tongue went. Think you can handle that? Think you can take me fucking you into the mattress?”

Sam nodded and then moaned when Dean brushed the head of his dick along the wet hole. Lube landed on the mattress beside him, and he spread it over his erection before returning to tease Sam.

“Open up Sweetheart.” Without giving Sam time to think about it or get nervous Dean thrust into his brother’s tight ass, pulling on Sam’s hips to take him deeper. He had to stop, buried to hilt, and breathe deep so that his orgasm didn’t hit right then. Sam clenched his muscles, shifted his hips, and then tilted himself up just a bit as his elbows settled into the mattress.

“You gotta move, please, you gotta move. Please fuck me. Please.”

Dean licked his lips, pulled back until just the head was in, and then slammed back all the way and listened to the wet sound and the slap of his balls against Sam. The cameraman was hovering close, getting a tight shot of the way Sam’s hole stretched around the width of Dean’s dick, and Dean barely restrained the urge to growl at him.

He set a punishing pace, hands on Sam’s hips and knees digging into the sheets as he pushed Sam to his limit, claiming him in front of the crew and whatever audience would eventually watch this.

“You like that baby boy? You like my dick in you so deep?”

Sam’s head turned, patterned silk still blocking his eyes and mouth hanging open. “Yes. Oh yes, please more, harder.”

Dean pulled out then, and Sam let out a whimper and tried to follow Dean’s dick with his ass. Instead of giving it to him Dean collapsed back against the pillows and pulled on Sam’s hips to lead him backwards. Sam followed the direction of Dean’s hands and sank backward on his heels so that he was seated fully on Dean’s cock.

“You want this job you’re gonna have to work for it baby boy. Ride me ‘til I fill you up and I’ll hire you full time.”

Shaggy hair flew as Sam nodded enthusiastically before lifting up and then slamming back down on Dean’s cock. He watched himself slide in and out of Sam’s glistening hole, the way Sam’s powerful thighs flexed as he maneuvered himself up and down, and the length of Sam’s back tightening and loosening as he rode Dean hard and fast.

“Oh god please – please harder. Fuck my ass harder. Oh god please-“ Sam’s words were cut off by a cry as his hips titled just right to rub his prostate along Dean’s cock. Dean took advantage of the distraction to reach around and grab Sam’s cock, grip firm and pace fast as Sam fucked down onto his cock and up into his hand.

Before it went too far Dean pushed Sam off his cock, flipped him onto his back, and then hooked Sam’s legs over his shoulders.

“This is it baby boy, gonna make you come on my cock without touching you. You want that? Want to come writhing and jerking on my big hard dick?”

Sam’s hands gripped his biceps hard enough to bruise as he practically screamed his approval of Dean’s plan. Dean figured that was appropriate.

He slid his way back in, slow starting before picking up the pace once he knew which angle had him pegging Sam’s sweet spot with every thrust. He kept at it, ramming into Sam and biting and licking along Sam’s collarbone.

A particularly hard bite, bruise already forming as he pulled his mouth away, was Sam’s undoing. His brother let out an inarticulate scream as his hips bucked and he came all over himself and Dean.

Knowing how this industry worked Dean slid out of Sam and crawled up his brother’s come-splattered torso so that he could strip his dick the few times necessary to come over Sam’s upturned face and open mouth.

In the aftermath Dean leaned down and licked his own come off of his brother’s face before whispering in his ear. “Love you baby boy.”

Sam hummed and settled into Dean’s grasp.

---

They’d officially made enough money to fix the Impala. Some of the leftovers went to upgrading Sam’s laptop, and Dean watched his brother considering the box with the shiny new processor before he looked up at Dean.

“Maybe we could do it again sometime. You know, if money’s tight?”

Dean thought of how the director had looked over Sam’s limp form, the hunger in the eyes of the cameraman, and his hand clamped down with maybe too much force on Sam’s thigh.

“Not a fucking chance.”

Current Mood: devious
Current Music: "Connect The Dots"-Spill Canvas