#bd!dean

Thank you for asking, I think this is how it could go:

As Wednesday rolls into Thursday Sam can finally breathe again. It’s not Tuesday anymore and it’s not Wednesday either - it’s Thursday and Dean is still here, alive. Sam doesn’t know how to express his relief, the hug yesterday was not enough and there was no way he was telling Dean about everything just yet. They had spent hours yesterday in the car, getting as far away from Florida as possible. Dean hadn’t questioned him much but he hadn’t entertained Sam’s plea of sleeping in the car. 

The clock on the bedside table had ticked over to thursday ten minutes ago and Dean was still here, coming from the bathroom and Sam didn’t think he just attacked. 

Dean let Sam wrestle him onto the bed for a moment, letting him take charge just long enough for Sam to get his fill before Dean flipped them around. Dean might not have been missing Sam for the past six months like Sam had missed Dean but his brother had always been far more eager and dominating than Sam. They’re naked in record time and Sam’s desperation might be fueling Dean’s because his brother is pushing Sam down, face first, ass up in what feels like seconds. Dean knows exactly how much prep Sam needs, preferably three (though two will do in a pinch) fingers, some dirty talk, a few licks and Sam is ready to go. 

Well. 

Usually. 

Sam is too desperate to say anything and when Dean doesn’t say anything either Sam just lets his brother believe he’s done enough, letting him think that Sam is just clenching on his fingers or whatever.

The head of Dean’s dick pops in easily enough but once Dean is that far, there is no way he can slow down, let alone stop and he pushes in all the way with one long thrust. Sam is biting the pillow hard, the stretch painful but just the right reminder that Dean is with him again and he may or may not sob into his pillow. Dean grunts and almost collapses against Sam’s back at the tight fucking grip that is now surrounding his dick and fuck, when’s the last time that Sam was this tight? 

“Don’t you dare stop, Dean!” Sam demands when he can speak again and he reaches back to pinch Dean, hard.

“Jesus, yeah, tight ass like yours really needs it, doesn’t it?” He’s right, Sam thinks and tries to give as good as he gets when Dean finally starts to move. He has to hide the worst of his whines in the pillow, he sounds hurt and he kind of is but not in a bad way (not that Dean would believe him) and it’s all just too much. “I don’t know what you did, but you feel fucking virgin tight tonight, Sammy,” Dean groans and yeah well that’s what happens when you don’t have anything up your ass for six months when previously it was an almost daily occurrence. 

“Less talking, more fucking,” Sam demands, sure he’s gonna blow in seconds if Dean keeps it up with the talking. 

“Nah, Sammy, can’t last in this piece of heaven so you’re not gonna either,” Dean promises and his thrusts are deep and mean. 

Sam feels split open and it’s weirdly perfect because he knows the discomfort won’t be gone by morning and neither will be Dean.