Dean was pretty sure that he had never seriously considered having sex with a car. Especially Baby, no matter how pretty a machine she was, didn’t get Dean creaming in his jeans. But, there was something undeniably erotic about the idea of being wholly inside Sam—who was less than thrilled to be rolling quite a few miles in Baby’s wheels—and really taking control of him for once.
“You know he’s watching, Dean. Somewhere, I don’t know where, but the Trickster’s watching.” It was odd that he couldn’t turn to his right and see Sam standing there, probably pulling that bitch face he always did when he was conflicted about something.
“Well, we might as well give him a show, right?”
Dean was leaning over the trunk, hovering one hand over the false bottom and stroking the edge of the door. Sam breathed in sharply, seeming to disregard his current lack of lungs.
“Dean, it’s not a good idea,” he warned, the edge in his voice only extending as far as the idea that they might be watched.
“Shh, just let me take care of you, baby.” He grinned, a jolt of electricity jumping straight to his cock. Sammy never liked sharing a pet name with a car, not even one that Dean cherished so deeply, but it was impossible to hold back now.
Dean put his hand inside the trunk, stroking its false bottom and running his hand against the junction of the interior wall. Sam breathed irregularly, trying to hold it back but inevitably succumbing with Dean’s persistence. He was predictable like that, and Dean loved always having the exact code to press Sam’s buttons. The engine purred with Sam’s approval and Dean continued, fingering the backing of the seats and making Sam sputter.
“How does that feel good?” His moaning was only getting Dean hotter.
“The power of love, bitch,” Dean teased.
He stroked with a deliberate pace, the trunk mat’s felt gripping his calloused fingertips. A small cloud of exhaust blew from the tailpipe, just missing Dean’s calf.
“You think this is like the game show?” He asked, eyes lingering on the tailpipe.
“You want to risk burning yourself?” Sam wasn’t completely closed off to the idea of it, so Dean got down on one knee and put his hand on the leaking tailpipe.
He had to think about it hard, but the scorching heat died down to almost nothing as he stroked the pipe, twisting his hand around it and rubbing his thumb against the underside like he was working his own shaft. Sam groaned, shooting more exhaust that Dean wasn’t sure how to interpret exactly, but assumed must have been good. The engine revved and Dean felt a surge of pride at how well he was undoing Sam even in this state. He didn’t remember any of this from Knight Rider reruns, but he was sure the Trickster wouldn’t complain about the change in his regularly-scheduled programming.
Dean slipped a finger into the tailpipe, getting another groan out of Sam that went straight to Dean’s cock. He’d wonder if anyone could hear him if this world wasn’t devoid of all life save for the two of them, parked just outside the warehouse, fulfilling a fantasy that Dean must have been repressing for ages.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any lube, Sammy.” He grinned as he started undoing the fly of his jeans with his free, clumsy hand, but his brother didn’t have any chastising words left.
“Just do it, please.”
As Dean lined himself up to fuck Baby/Sam’s tailpipe, the channel changed.