Summary: A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by WB and Eric Kripke et al. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: possible wincestuous overtones if you squint
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta. This is 29 out of 31 short fics, all involving masturbation in honour of the Merry Month of May. All fics were written with knowledge up to Hell House, no canon after that was used since that's as far as I've seen.
Word count: 703
Link: to other mmom fic
Dean walked straight into their dingy motel room, dumped his gear on one of the beds and then locked himself in the bathroom.
"You better not use all the hot water," was Sam's parting comment, but at that point Dean really didn't care about water in any shape or form.
It had been one hell of a hunt and they were both bloody and bruised, but neither of them was badly hurt and Dean had more pressing problems than a few cuts. He turned on the shower, took off his clothes with an efficiency he usually reserved for killing things and then stepped under the spray. Reaching for the soap, cleaning the blood and dirt off his body was the furthest thing from him mind. What had all of his attention was the very healthy erection between his legs.
He was not quite sure why his sex drive had kicked into high gear in the middle of the hunt since the only stimulation of any sort he could think of had been Sam's ass in his face as they crawled through some really nasty tunnels, and that just couldn't have had anything to do with it. Dean could appreciate that his brother had a nice ass, but he was damn sure he wasn't attracted to it, because that would be even weirder than life normally was when your name was Winchester.
The nasty they had been hunting had been a big and ugly mother, so he couldn't even blame it on their target being a seductress before going bug eyed and trying to kill them. It was a conundrum and one that had been driving him crazy for hours and if he wasn't going to go completely insane and shoot something he needed to do something about it now.
Leaning in the corner of the shower he soaped his hand and then wrapped his fingers around him cock. He let out a long low groan at the relief he felt as he was able to touch himself.
"Dean, you okay?" Sam's worried voice came through the door. "You're not hurt are you?"
Dean swore under his breath; it seemed Sam was in mother hen mode. What caused his brother to flit between 'screw you' and 'cluck cluck' was not something Dean had ever managed to figure out and he had had to conclude that Sam could just be a moody son of a bitch. Now was not a good time for Sam to be in a hyperaware, protective mood when all Dean wanted to do was jerk off in private.
"Hot water, Sammy, sore back, you work it out."
Dean tried to sound as disinterested as possible, but his hand was still wrapped around his cock and all he really wanted to do was move.
"Oh, okay," Sam sounded unsure and Dean cursed his hard assed macho image that probably had Sam thinking he was hiding something; "if you need anything, call."
"Go find a small kitten to mother, Sam," Dean shot back, hoping he sounded sarcastic and not desperate.
When there was no further sound he began to fist his cock as hard as he dared. Finesse was not something he really cared about, he just wanted to get off and it felt so good that he almost moaned again. Knowing that with the mood Sam was in his brother would be back at the door in a second, Dean shoved his other fist into his mouth to prevent any accidents.
He watched his hand slide over his cock as the intense feelings of arousal began to build in his groin. It was like he was reaching for the best prize of them all and Dean was not fussy about how he won it. When he felt the heat of his approaching orgasm he bit down on his hand and fought every instinct to make lots and lots of joyful noise as he finally shot his load.
It was so good that he stood there for the longest time feeling as if his brain had leaked out his cock.
"Dean, are you sure you're okay," Sam was back at the door; "you're very quiet?"
Dean almost banged his head against the wall.
"I'll be out in a minute," was the nicest thing he could think to say.