Dean sat back on his beach chair and watched Sam rub sunscreen up and down his arms at his high lifeguard station across the pool from him. It was total bullshit that Sam had gotten the lifeguard job over him. They were both supposed to have an interview with that damn manager but he hadn't gotten past the waiting area. Sam had sauntered into the manager's office and, from the almost immediate "You're hired!" Dean had heard through the door, he was positive that the manager taken one look at Sam's body and decided that she needed to see it in that tight little speedo lifeguard uniform. Not that Dean could blame her, of course; Sam looked damn good in that thing. It's not every guy who could pull off being covered in only about six inches of tight spandex. When Sam first walked up to his post, Dean immediately suspected that the manager had purposely chosen a uniform that was at least two sizes too small and no doubt so did Sam. Sam had on his classic bitchface and his hands were flying over the uniform nervously in all directions as if he wasn't sure what area needed to be covered more. Dean noticed the stretched bulge in the front, showing just how tightly packed Sam was in that thing, and imagined himself rubbing up against the fabric and caressing his fingers over it. As Sam shyly looked around with a look on his face that said he felt really uncomfortable and wildly overexposed, he was already getting interested looks from the women around the pool. Dean watched Sam give the women awkward, twitchy half smiles and thought two things: one, he still should have been the one who got the job, and two, as soon as they got back to the motel, he was going to make Sam stay in the speedo and then lick all that coconut oil off every inch of his skin. Yeah ladies, he thought smugly, that's right, look at him; look at all that six feet, four inches of all mine.

Dean smirked and leaned back in his chair. Well, at least they'd gotten what they needed; unlimited access to the pool and offices so they could work their case. And Dean wasn't about to complain about getting to ogle Sam for hours as he wore something that under normal circumstances he'd never even put on for sex play. It was an added bonus that this job included laying in the sun, something neither of them had done in a while. He'd bought a bathing suit and a pair of sandals just for this job; they needed a vacation and no way in Hell was this counting as one. They were hanging out by a pool, sure, but it was a community pool, they were on a job, and he had to wear a damn t-shirt to cover up his matching tattoo so that no one would know he and Sam knew each other. Even with sunscreen, he just knew that the freckles across his nose and cheeks would stand out, making him look like he was thirteen, and he'd have a farmer's tan. At least his swim trunks were roomy and he didn't have to wear a damn speedo. And, Hell, maybe he could relax a little bit; Sam was in the better position to see anything suspicious. They were investigating a series of mysterious drownings, so, yeah, actually, that was all Sam's job. Dean had already gone through the place with an EMF meter and found jack; as far as he was concerned, his job was done for now. All he had to do now was wait for the manager to leave her damn office so he could look around for anything suspicious. This particular manager who'd hired Sam and was on duty right now was the only person who'd been present for all three drownings, so although at first look she'd seemed like nothing more than a harmless hot blonde, they couldn't rule out her involvement. But, of course, she'd barricaded herself in her office all day, so he and Sam were probably going to have to break in after closing time to get a look around. And in the meantime, Sam was going to be ogled by the middle-aged women hanging out at the pool and he was going to sleep. Sounded like a fair plan.

Sam finished rubbing the lotion on his arms and then started on his chest. Dean put on his shades and acted as if he was relaxing as he surreptitiously watched Sam slather the greasy, white liquid onto his palm and then rub it over his smooth, muscular chest. Problem was though, watching Sam oil himself up like that was making him salivate. He really, really wanted to taste that skin and his fingers also tingled from wanting to run them up and down that fine, oiled up, slick chest. Sam's fingers brushed over one of his nipples and Dean imagined catching the erect bud in his teeth as he inhaled the coconut scent on his brother's body. And, okay, yeah, he was going to have to think about something very unsexy to cool himself down because his roomy swim shorts were definitely starting to feel a little tight. Sam's hand reached the matching tattoo on his left pec. He paused, looking at the tattoo for a moment, and then looked over at Dean, then raised an eyebrow and gave a disapproving look at the obvious tent in his shorts. Dean raised his sunglasses, gave Sam a wink and then raised his chair up into a sitting position to hide his erection. In return, Sam rolled his eyes and a poorly tried to hide a smile. Dean closed his eyes, thought about digging graves, and felt himself slowly soften.

About ten minutes later, Sam not so subtly cleared his throat. Dean had finally just lost his erection and found a comfortable position on his beach chair and almost didn't open his eyes. But, dammit, they were on a job, so he looked at him after only a moment's hesitation. Sam inclined his head towards the little shack that was the manager's office behind him. She must have left. Dean sighed and slowly rose from his chair.

After a very uneventful fifteen minutes of once again finding absolute jack, Dean stepped outside and headed back to the pool. He was beginning to wonder if this was even their kind of gig. The victims didn't have anything in common and the weirdest thing he could find about this manager was the huge condom collection she had in her desk and the fifteen Twilight posters hanging up on her walls and ceiling. There were no spellbooks, altars, magical ingredients, or even incense in the office. She was definitely at work when the drownings had happened, so if this chick was working any witchcraft, it would have had to have been at the office, so their witch suspicions were definitely out. As soon as Sam's chair was in view, what Dean saw made him begin to formulate a new theory about what happened. The manager wasn't in her office because she'd stalked around the place until she came up to the pool and found Sam. She was looking up at him and had her hands behind her back as if she was trying to act coy, but was puffing out her chest with her nametag, which had "Macy" written in bright, obnoxious red letters, pinned right over her right breast over her too-tight white cotton blouse.

Back before he was with Sam, Dean would have seriously considered banging this chick. Even now if he was in Sam's position he wouldn't have minded flirting with her a little bit, but he was sure she expected more than just talk. In fact, he was willing to bet that she'd done this with all the lifeguards she'd hired before. One thing that Sam had noticed in his research was that a lot of them hadn't lasted long because they'd quit or been fired with very flimsy reasons after only a few weeks. Three of them, of course, had been fired for abandoning their post and letting patrons drown. Dean was pretty sure now where they'd been when they were gone from their posts. And then of course Manager Macy, who couldn't admit that she'd been banging the lifeguard instead of making sure he was doing his job, helped each of them come up with some lame reason why they weren't at their post so they would be above suspicion in a criminal investigation and then fired them for incompetence. Dean couldn't see Sam's face, but his shoulders looked tense and the back of his neck was red and he was betting it wasn't from sunburn.

Macy motioned for Sam to come down from his seat and, reluctantly, he did so that he was at her level. Well, sort of at her level; Sasquatch was still almost a foot taller than her, but he was standing on the ground beside her. His head was cocked a little to the side and now that Dean could see his face, he saw that it was almost as red as the speedo he was wearing and he was giving her that awkward half-smile that he did whenever he felt really uncomfortable and wasn't sure what to do about the situation. When Sam spoke, she giggled and looked at him adoringly. Everything about the situation pissed him off. How dare she hit on Sam, on his Sammy! Looking was one thing, but the giggling and shameless eye-fucking wasn't going to fly. Come on you crazy slut, Dean thought, he doesn't fucking want you! He's mine, leave him alone! It wasn't that Dean was jealous; of course not, Dean Winchester didn't get jealous; with a face and body like his, why would he even need to, right? Even if she had a DD sized rack, a size 4 waist, and short shorts that barely came past two perfect little ass cheeks, Sam would never…

Dean was still enough out of the way that he could avoid being seen and he slowly walked towards the pair, being careful to stay out of sight so he could eavesdrop on the conversation. When he still couldn't quite hear what the skank was saying, he moved from behind the snack shack and moved around to the little hut where people could change into their swimsuits, which was conveniently located behind and just a little to the right of Sam's chair.

"…safe around here with a big, strong guy like you around."

"Uh, great, thanks. Just let me know when you get a uniform in my size, this one is a little…confining."

It's confining! Dean silently raged. Jesus Sam, are you trying to get her to look at your junk? Congratulations Sam, you've got a monster schlong that goes along with the rest of you, ya big friggin' Sasquatch.

Sure enough, her eyes shot down to his package. "Yeah, well, I don't think we've ever hired a lifeguard who was as…big as you. It's impressive."

Sam's already red face and neck flushed even deeper and some color even went to his ears. "I – uh, I don't, uh…"

Her eyes then zeroed in on Sam's chest. "I didn't know you had a tattoo."

Sam looked down to it. "Uh, yeah, yeah I do."

"I don't normally like tattoos on men, but it looks great on your…" she paused scan her eyes down his body, "…skin tone."

"Uh, thanks."

"Can I touch it?"

Dean rolled his eyes. No, you can't touch it you bitch!

"Um, I'd – I'd prefer you didn't."

She laughed and flipped her hair back "So, you're a little shy, huh?"

Sam frowned. "No."

"Oh, sure you are. And you know what? It's really cute. So, does it mean something special to you?"

Sam shrank away a little bit. "Yes," he said simply.

"Oh." She frowned just a tiny bit. "What does this tattoo mean, anyway?"

She reached out with her fingertips and Dean finally came into view. This chick was really starting to piss him off, treating Sam like he was some piece of meat; she deserved to be taught a lesson. Not because he was jealous, of course, because he wasn't. It was because… well, because the bitch was denying him of his occupational rights! He stepped out from the shadows behind Sam's chair and put on a smile.

"It's a pentagram." She and Sam both whipped around, surprised. Dean smirked at Sam and gave a slight shake of his head; this aint our gig. Sam smiled and visibly relaxed. Dean turned back to the manager. "Well, actually, Macy, this one's called a pentacle because it protects against demonic possession. Sam here drew up the design, but…" He threw his t-shirt over his head, "…getting them together was my idea."

Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes went wide. "Oh! You guys are – friends?"

Dean shook his head. "Guess again."

Sam grabbed his face and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. When they broke it, Dean looked at the shocked manager and smirked. Sam smiled politely at her. "I quit."

They turned and headed to the little changing hut, where Sam quickly threw on a pair of sandals and Dean grabbed their clothes so they could get the hell out of there. As they walked away, Dean couldn't help but give Sam's ass a hard squeeze because damn right that bitch was still watching. Sam jumped for a second in surprise and then Dean was rewarded with the patented extra disapproving bitchface.

"What the Hell, Dean? It's not like I don't feel enough like a piece of meat in this stupid thing."

"Aww, come on, Sam; I think you look pretty good."

They reached the gate and pushed it open just as a chubby middle-aged couple approached it from the other side. When she saw Sam, the woman's jaw dropped and she blushed, whereas the man swallowed hard and quickly ran past them. Sam's hands once again flew over his crotch, then his ass, then at various places along his stomach and sides.

"I think I feel more naked than if I was actually naked."

They reached Impala and Sam threw open the passenger door and ducked inside. Dean sniggered, opened the door, threw Sam's clothes into the backseat, and slid behind the steering wheel. "Don't worry, Sammy; we'll take care of that as soon as we get home."

Sam made a disgusted face. "Don't tell me you actually like me in this thing."

"What if I was wearing it?"

Sam looked down at his uniform and then over at Dean's loosely fitting shorts. "Okay, yeah, point taken."

"Point is, Sammy," Dean started up the engine, "when we get back, you're going to wear that little number for just a little while longer." He reached over and brushed his fingers against Sam's bulge, which was so tight that he could even feel the ridge of his head. "But not for too long." He threw the car into drive and then pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main street. Once they were on the highway, Dean put his hand on Sam's inner thigh and let it slowly travel up until he once again felt the hot, heavy weight between Sam's legs. "You know, you really do look good in that thing. You see how hard I was for you before when I was laying by the pool?"

Sam groaned. "Please don't try to make me hard. I don't even know if I can; I barely have any circulation in this thing."

"Really? No circulation?" He looked over along the highway and saw there was a shoulder. "Well, can't have that; a man's prized parts need to breathe."

Sam cocked an eyebrow at him as Dean pulled off alongside the road. "Are you seriously…"

Dean threw the car into park, shut off the engine, and then leapt across the seat and kissed Sam hard on the mouth. "Oh, Hell yeah I am."

"Dean, I don't…" Dean yanked hard on Sam's speedo and Sam lifted his hips to make it possible to pull it down, "…think this is a good idea…" Dean pushed the red swatch of spandex past Sam's knees, putting his face near his crotch and was greeted with the smell of sweat and coconut oil "…this isn't exactly a secluded highway, we could get caught…" Sam wasn't exactly hard when he was first freed from the restricting fabric, but Dean gently ghosted his breath over the head of Sam's cock and then watched it lengthen and harden under his gaze "…we should probably just go home."

Dean licked a stripe down the length of Sam's cock and then swirled his tongue along the salty head. "You're right, we probably should." He gave Sam a mischievous smile and saw from the look on his brother's face that he wasn't going to get an argument. "But I don't see you complaining."

Sam slid his hips forward and let his legs fall apart. "It's kind of hard to when you're offering head."

Dean stuck out the tip of his tongue and ran it in a tortuously slow motion up and down Sam's slit. "That right? Guess I must give pretty good head, then." He slid the head past his lips and gave it a good hard suck, loving the long, filthy moan that he already managed to drag out of his lover.

"God, yeah Dean, you're the best at this, the best I've ever had."

Dean slid his mouth off of Sam and went back to licking. "Bet I do a better job than Macy."

He slipped the velvety smooth skin of Sam's cock between his lips once again and this time slid down deeper, taking in as much of him as he could right away without choking. He slowly bobbed up and down, working to relax his throat so he could take a little more of him in each time he sunk down. Sam threw his head back on the seat and let out a breathy moan. "'Course you can, I don't want anyone doing this to me besides you."

For his answer, Dean rewarded him by humming around his erection. "Oh yeah, g-god Dean, y-yeah! Fuck, more, take me deeper, please!"

Dean took Sam in as deep as he could until his lips slid all the way down to the base. He used extra spit like he knew Sam liked and kept a tight hold on Sam's thighs to make sure he didn't thrust into his throat when he wasn't expecting it. At first, Sam kept his eyes tightly closed and his mouth open in a semi-circle but after about thirty seconds he looked down and watched Dean work him.

"Oh my God, you're such a great cock sucker, look at your mouth – oh god – it's so fucking perfect, you look so damn hot sucking my cock – ooh yeah – wanna fuck it all day, love watching you do this – o-o-h, g-a-a-w-w-w-d, yes – yes – yes – yes…"

Just listening to Sam's filthy mouth was enough to make Dean soak the front of his boxers in pre-cum. This was one of the reasons why he loved giving head so much. Sam panted, moaned, and writhed over him and, fuck, it was way too easy to get Sam to fall apart for him whenever he used his mouth. In another thirty seconds Sam's stomach muscles started twitching furiously and his chest began to heave.

"God Dean, I'm gonna – I'm gonna…"

Dean slid his mouth off of Sam and squeezed the base of his cock. "No you're not; not yet." Still panting, Sam closed his eyes to try and cool himself down. Dean reached into the backseat and grabbed Sam's boxers and pants. "I hate to see you change out of that thing, but I don't think you can stuff that hard-on into it, so here." Sam looked at him confusedly as he took the garments. Dean turned on the engine and sighed. "You're right; this isn't an abandoned highway and for the things I want to do to you, yeah, we're going to need more privacy and a lot more room."

Sam smirked at Dean as he slid the speedo the rest of the way down his legs. He changed into the boxers and pants while Dean drove back to the motel at somewhere around 90 miles an hour. As soon as they slid into a parking spot right in front of their room, he ripped the keys out of the ignition and they both practically bolted to their room. Sam got in first but was quickly followed by Dean, who slammed the door shut with a resounding bang and then lunged at Sam and attacked his neck with his mouth. His skin was slippery, smelled of coconut, and tasted like salt and suntan lotion.

"Ungh, oh god, c'mere." Sam grabbed Dean's jaw, pulled his mouth from his neck, and smashed their lips together. As they kissed Dean took a step forward and shoved Sam against the wall, then rocked his hips against Sam's in a rhythmic motion. Beside them, the air conditioner chugged and squeaked, in its dying moments in the midst of the hot day. Dean broke the kiss to unbutton Sam's pants so he could take them across the room from the noise and over to the bed. Sam intently watched Dean's quick, determined fingers. "I think I like it when you're jealous."

Dean snapped his head up. "What? I'm not jealous!"

"Right." Sam pushed his unbuttoned pants and boxers down and then stepped into Dean's space and roughly pushed down his swimsuit. "So, you weren't going on back there about how you can get me off better than Macy?"

"Yeah, well…I'm still not jealous."

"Yeah," Sam brought his face in so close that Dean could feel his breath ghosting across his lips and smell the faint musky hints of his morning aftershave. "Guess you're right." Without warning, Dean felt the hard press of Sam's lips against his and then before he knew it, two large hands grabbed him just below his ass and he was in the air being carried across the room. "Because why would I want to fuck Macy when I can have you?"

Sam laid him down on the bed and then quickly draped him with his own body, sliding their slick bodies against each other and grinding their hot, hard cocks together. He moved in and took Dean's lips in another hot, hard kiss, all teeth and tongues. Sam could sometimes be punishing in his enthusiasm, leaving him in the morning with bite marks on his skin, bruised lips, and sore muscles. Whenever they had time to have sex on a frequent, regular basis, Sam didn't usually get like this; he was much gentler and more controlled. But they hadn't had sex in almost two weeks and it was really showing. When Sam had first shown this side of him, it was hard for Dean to relinquish control; after all, he was the big brother, the one who was in-charge. Now there was no way to get him off faster. They still didn't do it this way a whole lot, but sex was the one area in their relationship where he could sometimes just hang back, relax, and watch Sam go crazy on him. Almost everything that Sam did turned him on, but on the top of the list was seeing how turned on Sam was by him. He'd start taking and just keep taking, losing himself in the moment and Dean's body, biting, sucking, and fucking them both to orgasm. Dean grabbed Sam's face and pushed his head back, forcing him to break the kiss. Sam was still moving his lips a little and his dimples prominently showed, his eyes were half-closed and his face was flushed.

"Fuck, Sam, you go this crazy for me." He pushed Sam's face back down to his, but didn't let Sam chase his mouth. Instead, he kissed one of Sam's dimples, then opened his mouth around the it, sucked the flesh and licked it with his tongue. "Fucking love these dimples."

He held Sam's head in place as he kissed, sucked, and jabbed his tongue inside his dimples, but Sam quickly got impatient. He growled, put his arms around Dean and sat them both up on the bed so they were both kneeling in front of each other. "Dean, I'm not gonna last long, not after what you did in the car. I need you, now." He grabbed Dean's dick, stroking it fast and sure and then his mouth went right to his neck, kissing and licking and giving the occasional little nips with his teeth that sent shivers down Dean's spine. Dean looked up to the ceiling to give Sam more room to play.

"You like my mouth on your cock that much, huh?"

"Mm-hm," Sam confirmed as he sucked Dean's neck and, yeah, he was sucking so hard it was definitely going to leave a bruise, but Dean didn't care; he loved it when Sam lost control on him. Next, Sam moved down to his chest and attacked Dean's tattoo with vigor. He finally pulled back and then eyed up his handiwork. "I love it all; everything you do drives me crazy."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

Sam reached past Dean, opened the nightstand drawer, and pulled out the lube, then gave Dean one last quick yet punishing kiss on the mouth and firmly grabbed his ass. "Turn around for me, Dean, please."

Even though Dean would never admit it, Sam knew how much he secretly loved to bottom, and he knew that if he asked, he'd always get his way. But he also knew, no matter how many times they did it, or how fucked out and desperate they both were for it, that he always had to ask. Dean quickly turned around and got on his hands and knees so Sam could prep him. But instead of Sam's finger, like he was expecting, he felt Sam's tongue lick a stripe down between his cheeks and then flick back and forth around his entrance. Dean moaned and pushed back against Sam's tongue. Sam pulled Dean's cheeks apart and used his mouth enthusiastically. Sweeping licks became more focused and then eventually turned into tiny little jabs. Then he started sucking lightly every time he withdrew his tongue and it made Dean's body tremble and he felt weak in the knees.

"Oh god, I'm ready – I'm ready – just do it already!"

"Not yet." From behind him, Dean heard the sound of the top being popped off the lube and a second later, two slick fingers entered him. "Oh god, I love the noises you make for me, so sexy, Jesus, you're tight, tighter than I remember before."

"It's been a while since we did it this way."

"I know, I can't wait to be inside you." Sure enough, Sam showed his impatience by putting in a third finger after only a few seconds. "Ready?"

Dean nodded and Sam withdrew his fingers. He heard the wet sound of Sam slicking himself up and then felt the tip of Sam's cockhead push past the first ring of muscle. He could tell Sam was trying to enter slowly, but he was so keyed up that he pushed in all the way in a matter of seconds. Once they were in motion, Sam draped his body over Dean and laid torrents of kisses along his neck and back.

"How could you think I'd want her?" he asked in between kisses.

"I – " Sam hit just the right place inside him and Dean felt his eyes cross, "fuck, Sam, ungh – I didn't."

"D-dean – you're an amazing fuck – o-o-h yes – the best I've had – oh god – and you'll be my last – oh god – oh god – oh – "

Sam started thrusting into him harder and Dean had to grab the headboard to steady himself. The pressure from Sam's thick cock fully buried inside of him felt amazing, but Sam was also hitting his sweet spot with every thrust and moaning without shame on top of him. They were both getting close. And he did not want to come staring at a headboard.

"Oh god, yeah – no – Stop. Sam – Sam – stop!"

He felt Sam's thighs shaking against him as he slowly ground to a halt. "What's wrong?"

Dean shifted forward towards the headboard and Sam got the hint and gently pulled out. Dean turned around to look at his brother. Sam's hair was damp and falling into his face, which was bright red and covered in droplets of sweat that ran down his neck and chest and his lips were red and swollen. Dean crawled over to Sam, wrapped his arms around his chest, brought him in close, and fiercely kissed those red, swollen lips. Sam fiercely held Dean and kissed him back eagerly until they both had to pull back for air, panting into each other's mouths. Dean hoisted himself up and fit Sam snugly between his legs, then grabbed Sam's cock and held it in place while he lowered himself down onto it. Once he was fully seated, he laid back on the bed and held his hands up against the headboard. Sam looked at him in awe for a moment and then began thrusting into him once again. Dean watched Sam's face contort in ecstasy as he neared orgasm and it made him moan in pleasure. He was doing that, making Sammy feel so good, he was the only one who was going to make him come. He started working his hips in time with Sam to help him go deeper and then Sam once again started his filthy babbling.

"God Dean, such a tight little ass, want to fuck you so hard – mm – f-feels so fucking good – a-a-h-h-h yes – yes – yes – just wanna fuck you all day long, wanna come so hard inside you, wanna fill you with my come – oh god – oh god – touch yourself, wanna see you touch yourself, Dean."

Dean reached down and began fisting his cock like Sam asked. "Like that? You like that, Sam?"

"Yeah, just like that, I wanna see you come."

Dean was already really close and now he wasn't going to last more than another ten seconds. He threw his head back on the pillow and let his powerful orgasm rip through his body. He came all over his chest, belly, and even a little on his neck. He milked himself through the aftershocks and then when he was done, he looked at Sam, who was still vigorously thrusting into him. Sam was staring at him, his whole body red and sweaty and he was panting and moaning loudly.

"You're so close Sam, I can feel it. Come on baby, come for me, wanna feel you come inside me."

"Oh god – yes – yes – yes – Dean!"

Sam shouted, his hips stuttered, and then Dean felt Sam's release fill his channel. He kept going for a few more thrusts and then stopped and sat still for a few seconds before he gently pulled out, collapsed on the bed beside him, and let out a contented sigh. They lay there beside one another just panting for several seconds and then Sam snuggled up to Dean and kissed him on the mouth. Dean half-heartedly swatted him away.

"Come on, the air's on the fritz, it's friggin' hot in here."

Sam laughed and then moved a couple of feet away from Dean to give him room to cool down. They laid in silence for several seconds and then, "You know it wasn't just bedroom talk; I meant what I said."

Dean lazily turned his head to look at his brother. "What? That you wanna fuck me all day long? Yeah, I know."

Sam's skin had started to go back to his normal color, but at mention of what he'd just said seconds ago, his cheeks blushed crimson. "No, not about that. I mean about you being my last. I don't want anyone else Dean; I never really did. Not even Jessica. I loved her, but I wouldn't have gotten involved if I knew then that we could have been together. You don't ever have to be jealous."

Dean scoffed. "Well, that's nice to hear, but I'm telling you, I wasn't jealous."

Sam sniggered and slid back over to give Dean a kiss. "Jerk."

Dean returned the kiss and smiled. "Bitch."