The motel room smelled like disinfectant and blood. Thin yellow walls did nothing to muffle the sounds coming from Room 17.
First knock came around 11:47 p.m. A sharp, annoyed rap on the door. “Keep it down in there! Some of us are trying to sleep!”
Dean paused mid-swing, his fist still raised. His younger brother lay curled on the stained carpet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His breathing was wet and ragged. Dean’s cock was still half-hard from the last round. He wiped his bloody hands on his jeans, plastered on a lazy grin, and cracked the door open just enough for the middle-aged guy to see him.
“Oh, sorry man,” we’re just having some fun with my girlfriend. She gets little loud when she’s enjoying herself. Oopsie.” He gave a sheepish shrug like some college kid. “We’ll keep it down.”
The neighbor squinted, trying to peer past broad shoulders, but Dean angled his body to block the view. After a second the guy muttered something about "fucking newlyweds" and stomped off.
Dean closed the door, locked it, smile dropped. He walked back to him, grabbed a fistful of hair, and yanked sams head up. The broken jaw made a sick grinding sound. “See what you made me do?“ Dean hissed. „Now the whole damn motel thinks I’ve got a screaming bitch in here.“ He slammed face back down into the carpet and drove a knee into his ribs for good measure. A muffled, gurgling cry.
Second knock hit at 12:38 a.m., louder this time. Two voices outside. “Hey! We’ve got kids next door! Whatever you’re doing, take it somewhere else!”
Dean was balls-deep fucking Sam. He was barely conscious, tears and blood mixing on the floor, his broken jaw hanging slack. Every thrust forced a broken, wet whimper out.
Dean slowed just enough to pull out with a wet pop, yanked his jeans up, and answered the door again, still breathing hard, sweat glistening on his chest. “Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. “Girlfriend’s a screamer tonight. We’re celebrating our anniversary. Won’t happen again. Promise.” He winked like it was all good fun.
The couple outside exchanged disgusted looks before leaving. Dean turned around, kicked his brother onto his back, forced his legs apart, and shoved back inside in one thrust.
“You hear that? They think I’m fucking a girl,” he laughed, one hand wrapped around his brother’s throat. He slapped the broken jaw just to hear the pained sob, then leaned down and bite the side of neck, then licked it
Third knock came at 1:24 a.m., this one accompanied by heavy banging and a woman’s shrill voice. “We’re calling the cops if you don’t shut the hell up!”
Dean was close now, fucking him with short strokes while the body laid limp beneath him, eyes glassy. Cum leaked out around Dean’s cock. He pulled out again, wiped himself quickly on his brother’s shirt, and opened the door one last time, still flushed and breathing heavy.
“Last apology, I swear,” Dean said, with the same disarming smile. “She’s really into it tonight. We’ll be quiet. Scout’s honor.” He did the little two-finger salute.
The woman glared but backed off when Dean didn’t budge. As soon as the door closed, he flipped Sam over onto his stomach, yanked his hips up, and slammed back in. “No more interruptions,” Dean growled, gripping the broken jaw from behind and forcing it open wider despite the damage. “Now be a good little brother and take it.”
He fucked him until he came again, groaning loud enough that anyone still listening in the hallway would have heard it. Dean collapsed beside the trembling, bloodied body on the floor. He patted his younger brother’s head almost affectionately.
The room went quiet for the rest of the night. Except for the occasional quiet whimper that no one would report.
