Title: State Troopers
Author: Cntrlphreak
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warning: incest
Summary: Late night, frisky boys, and state troopers.


Sam leaned over and slipped his left hand onto Dean's thigh and over to his crotch. He felt the bulge under the rough jean material and wanted to set it free.

"Shit Sam, not now," Dean complained, taking his brother's hand from between his legs. It was late and Dean wanted to find a motel and crash.

"But Dean, why not?" Sam asked persisting in his actions. He slid a bit closer and added a distraction of tonguing his brother's ear while he sneaked his right hand to Dean's belt.

"Because it's late and I am driving and I don't want to crash," Dean explained pulling away from tongue, not noticing what else was happening.

'Then don't crash," Sam purred, having successfully opened his brother's jeans, he quickly reached in, under the boxer briefs, to the prize. Before Dean could react he had wrapped his long fingers around the flaccid dick, while kissing Dean's neck.

"Damn it," Dean was getting very irritated and excited,"stop..." There was no force behind the words. He grabbed his younger brother's wrist and tried halfheartedly to remove the hand.

"You don't want me to," Sam whispered, licking Dean's neck while he gently coaxed the limp member to action. It did not take long before it was standing at attention.

"Let me find a place to park, at least," Dean's voice had dropped an octave, lust coloring his words.

"Whatever," Sam said as he maneuvered himself so that his head was between his brother and the steering wheel. He blew on the head and licked it. He heard Dean hiss and smiled before licking the shaft.

Dean bobbled the car and nearly ran off the road."Sam, please," he begged righting the vehicle.

"Okay," he agreed, knowing it was not what Dean meant. Slowly he put is lips around the head then slid down the penis. That did cause Dean to swerve violently again, over correct, then come to a halt. Sam then started to move his mouth up and down slowly Dean's erection.

"Damn it," Dean breathed, he had barely avoided a wreck but found a place to stop. It was only a few feet off the road but out of traffic. He was glad Sam had gotten frisky on this highway instead of the freeway they had left about 20 miles back. The road was paved with a bit of traffic but not much, so he decided to risk parking on the side.

After shoving his jeans and underwear down past his knees, interrupting only for a moment, Dean threaded his left hand fingers through Sam's long hair, more to feel the movements than to control them. He placed his right had on Sam's back, rubbing circles over the muscles. He leaned his head back and dived into all the sensations.

Instead of being annoyed as he was at first, Sam welcomed Dean's hand. It transmitted knowledge about his performance. Dean would grip or release, stoke or pat, depending how much he was liking what Sam did. That along with moans told Sam all he needed to know.

Sam cupped Dean's balls in his hand and gently fondled them. His mouth continued to slide slowly up and down. He used his tongue as a guide every once in a while pulling off and licking from the head to the base, in front then back.

Sam stopped just long enough to have Dean turn in the seat to face him so that his back was to the door and Sam was between his legs. This afforded Sam with more room to play. Back on Dean's dick, Sam sucked harder and moved a bit faster. When he had him on the edge, he pulled back and took his balls in his mouth.

After suckling them for a bit, Sam wetted his fingers then carefully probed Dean's asshole. He took him in his mouth again and gently pushed for access.

"No Sam," Dean objected, he now had both hands in his brother's hair. "I don't like that." He was always tense and reluctant to allow Sam in.

Sam ignored Dean's objections and continued to work at it. After only a minute he was in and thrusting in time with is sucks. Dean always made the most amazing sex noises when Sam did that.

Sam had gotten two fingers in and was about to allow Dean to come when he was being hit on the head and told to stop.

'Shit cops, stop!" Dean was frantically trying to pull his younger brother off of him and pull his underwear and jeans up at the same time.

Sam frowned but when he looked up and saw red and blue lights flashing on his brother's face he knew it was serious.

"Shit!" he exclaimed and frantically tried to right himself without making it too obvious what they were doing. He kept his head down and maneuvered himself so that he was reclined in the seat resting his head on the door. Sam then promptly pretended to sleep.

Dean had a wilded eyed look about him trying to not be suspicious and failing. He had almost successfully righted himself but for zipping, buttoning, and buckling. Dean quickly yanked his shirts down to hide the fact. Plus his hard on was not fading as he would have liked, but shifted in the seat to hide himself. He scrubbed his face and jumped when there was a tap at his window.

"Hello officer," Dean said feigning sleepiness, "what can I do for you?"

The state trooper shined a light in Dean's face and into the interior of the car. His face was blank and his voice flat, "License and registration."

Dean smiled and moved to comply. "Dude, move it," he said to Sam hitting the leg the blocked the glove compartment. Sam mumbled something incoherent but got out of the way.

Acquiring the indicated paperwork Dean handed them to the officer and asked, "What is the matter? Did I do something wrong?"

The trooper took the items and move back to his car without a word.

"Dude, do you think he suspects?" came a harsh whisper from Sam. He was still pretending to sleep.

"No clue," Dean was nervous, he so did not want to get busted. He made use of the time to sort out his jeans. 'Damn it that as gonna be good,' he thought bemoaning his frustration. But state troopers were a strange and touchy breed of cop. There was no telling what could set one off.

"Go ahead and get up," Dean said acting like he was waking his passenger.

Sam allowed himself to be roused then acted the part of waking but not wanting to. He looked around to see what they were doing in the car behind them but could not report anything because of the lights the cops still had blazing in the Impala.

"Fuck this is not good," Sam worried but remained calm. He felt Dean's pain at a truncated blow job.

Both brothers looked attentively when the trooper returned.

"Parking on the shoulder is not permitted Mr. Anderson," the officer informed them as he returned the paperwork.

Dean looked apologetic and said as much, "I am sorry but it was late and I did not want to crash. It won't happen again, we will get a motel room. Is there one close?" He was almost earnest.

"I am going to let you off with a warning. Do not let it happen again," the state trooper said and turned to leave. He paused then added, "Springfield is 9 miles in the direction you are headed."

Dean thanked the man and started the car. Both he and Sam were breathing thankful sighs of relief.

"Fuck that was close," Dean said gruffly turning onto the road. He was concentrating on not speeding when he heard his brother laugh.

"Dude, you should have seen your face," Sam was nearly busting a gut in his attempt not to laugh out loud too much.

"Fuck you, Sammy," Dean groused, he gripped the steering wheel hard in an effort not to slug his brother, hard. He was embarrassed and tremendously frustrated.

Sam sobered minutely, and added, "If we can find a room."

Dean looked at his brother and saw want, lust, and promises in those green eyes.

Dean smiled a wicked smile and gunned the engine to Springfield.