#thanks for the prompt i really should be practicing my bj writing skills lol

[winpocalypse]

road head suggested by @daddario <3 on AO3

Sam doesn't gag. Not anymore. Not for a long time.

God, that was so hot. 

He would barely take it halfway into his mouth and his throat would close up, so fucking delicious, he would choke, his teeth skimming — oh Dean doesn’t mind it that much —, eyes watering and the blush creeping up from his neck all the way to his cheeks. He would cough for a few, and when Dean came? It would spill out all over, so much so Sam would be cleaning cum from his hair. 

Dean lived for it. 

But now, the dude’s a pro. He can take it so well, it seems almost a boring task for him. Maybe that’s why he chooses the most inconvenient moments to do it these days. But Dean would not be the one to turn down any of Sam’s attention, not while being a pervert in his own right. 

“Wanna taste me that bad, huh?” Dean smiles at the road, stretching his right arm over the seat. It’s still quite bright, the setting sun leaving a glow at Sam’s hair, his eyes shining yellowish when he looks up. “I mean, I know I taste amazing, so.”

Sam yanks Dean’s belt with a scoff. “You taste acceptable because I taught you how to properly clean yourself.”

“Yeah, talk dirty to me, Sammy,” Dean deadpans. 

He bites back a groan as Sam’s giant hand wraps around him. He peeks in time to catch Sam working up enough saliva in his mouth to leave a good wet trail as he licks it like a lollipop. Green eyes look up and Sam smirks. 

He braces himself against Dean’s thigh and licks him at his stubble, just under his jaw, and blows hot air on the spot. “Eyes on the road, Dean.”

Dean smirks back. Little shit.

Besides his gag reflex, Sam also mastered the art of obscene noises. God, the noises. At the start of this, he would repress so much, he and Dean both would do it like a couple of frigid virgins, swallowing the moans, so they could pretend they’re hiding from some higher all-listening being out there. 

They graduated from the school of brother-fucking since. They get loud now. 

Sam knows, he knows damn well now, the way Dean likes it. The way he loves the vibration of Sammy’s tongue and throat against his dick, the whimpering and the wet sloppiness around it. And Dean could never get enough of the effort Sam put into it, just like he does with everything else. His head moving slow and steady at first, then frantic, and then slow again. Dean loves to watch it. But he's trying to keep his attention ahead.

Dean’s hand grabs at his brother’s hair, just a tug, so Sam gets it. He’s doing good. Because Dean also knows his Sammy. He loves a good praise. And of course that just makes him go faster. Dean’s eyes flutter, almost shutting completely, and he grips the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turn white. 

His legs are growing weak under them, and he can’t even fire back when a car passes them honking loud and long. If it’s a complaint or a praise, Dean couldn’t care less. He just smiles at the open road, at the vehicle moving away.

His fingers find their way to Sam’s face, who slows down again, and Dean feels for the suction at his cheek, and then down to Sam’s lips, where his dick disappears inside. He rocks his hips up, sudden, while holding Sam in place and that does it.

Sam gags, if only briefly. 

Dean comes with both hands gripping at the wheel, his foot stepping on it, the Impala singing, drowning out his satisfied sigh. Sam comes back up licking his puffy lips, all shiny from spit, not an ounce of Dean on it. 

Yeah, he doesn’t make a mess like he used to. But that’s ok. It just means Dean trained him well. 

Like any good big brother would.