Dean was still never going to forgive him for shooting up the way he did.
Almost half a head taller even before he’d gone on T, and Dean still harbored some very lighthearted resentment about it. Every time they passed each other in the bathroom, unloading the car, going to bed, Dean felt the urge to ask him what the weather was like up there, and if he wouldn’t mind passing Dean a couple extra inches.
Sam was more than happy to pass him those extra inches—in all actuality more than a couple—when he had Dean sprawled across his lap, taking his favorite strap. Dean winced and grunted as Sam guided him down onto his cock, narrow and short but still more than enough to make his brother blush like a virgin.
“You’re a natural,” Sam assured him, trying to hide a bubble of laughter that erupted inside him when he saw how Dean’s face was twisted up. He wouldn’t have believed he was taking a cock, to put it nicely.
“You think it’s hilarious,” Dean groaned as he lowered another inch onto Sam’s plastic cock, “you love seeing me suffer, Sammy.”
Sam slapped Dean’s ass, the sound of the impact echoing through the room and making the inside of his harness slick. The sound was a lot worse than what he’d actually done to Dean—there wouldn’t even be a mark in the morning. Dean laughed, baring his teeth as he sank further, taking another half inch of his cock.
“Fuck, do it again. It makes it hurt a little less,” Dean breathed. Sam loved when he rose up out of his lower register, but he also loved his rough scolding, the way “Sammy” rolled off his tongue.
“Like this?” Sam spanked him again and milked a fantastic moan out of Dean. It made Sam laugh, made his chest flutter hearing just how happy he was making his big brother. Dean leaned forward on his palms and nodded, the top of his head almost reaching Sam’s lips.
“I deserve it, getting spanked.” He knew just what got Sam hot and he wasn’t going to let him off so easily. “I’m bad, Sammy.”
He grabbed Dean’s ass and got him to look up. Sam met his lust-darkened eyes and tried to mimic his lopsided grin, flicking his gaze down to Dean’s mouth. Sam couldn’t kiss him—he didn’t want to muffle any fantastic moans that he was sure to make. He gave him another light slap on his ass, one that didn’t reverberate, and was surprised to see Dean was sitting flush in his lap, even if his eyebrows were threaded together like he was barely holding it together. The harness slid around on his crotch as Dean readjusted himself, and Sam felt a wave of arousal wash over him as that friction worked its way through his body.
“I’m not gonna punish you,” he said softly, brushing his lips against Dean’s, “I just wanna make you feel good.”