Title: Day 9
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Disclaimer: Not my characters. I wish they were mine. I definitely don’t get paid for this.
Summary: Dean’s feeling sneezy and Sam’s kind of okay with that.
Notes: Written during my 12 Ficlets in 12 Days in 2013 project for Anonymous

Dean never wanted Sam around when he was sick. He was like a wounded animal who wanted to retreat from the world in order to heal. He would spend all day in bed, as far under the covers as he could get. And when he sneezed, he did so stifled or half-stifled but muffled into his sleeve. Hell, Dean didn’t even like to be the center of attention at a birthday party.

There was nothing sexy about the way Dean sneezed when he was sick. Sam could barely hear it, but even when he could, it didn’t do anything for him except make him feel sorry for his brother. Cuts could be sewn up, bullet sounds could be patched, broken bones could be set, but there wasn’t anything Sam could do to drive his brother’s head cold away except give Dean space and time and the occasional fresh box of Kleenex.

When Dean was suffering from allergies, on the other hand, it was a whole other story. His allergy sneezes were epic. They impressed him, and he wanted everyone else impressed by what he could do as well. Which is why, when Sam comes home from fighting the p’stajon monster, he finds Dean sneezing freely. Dean sits on the edge of the bed, hands splayed out on his thighs to brace himself as he bends forward. “harrShhhhihhhhh!” He lifts his hand and rubs casually at his nose. He looks up at Sam, grinning, and in his first breath proclaims, “Oh man. That was a big one!”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam toes off his shoes as soon as he closes the door behind him. “Congrats?”

“Wait…” Dean waves a hand in front of his face, as if fanning his nose. “I feel another… hahh… yep, here it comes… HuhhhShuhhhh! Harshehhhhh! H’Shooo!” He gasps for breath, still grinning. “A triple. You see that, Sam?”

“Yeah, Dean. You all right?” He knows he’s got to be if Dean’s in such a good mood; it’s just his allergies.

“Just my allergies. I’m allergic to something in this town. The trees or grasses or ragweed or somethin’, I dunno. I’ve been sneezing my head off all afternoon. Can’t seem to stop. Guess I should’ve gone with you down into the sewers instead of checking cemeteries.”

Sam walked across the motel room to the bathroom as carefully as he could. “No, you shouldn’t have. The damn thing exploded when I stabbed it. I’m covered in that stuff. It’s disgusting. I need a shower.”

Dean swings his legs up onto the bed and leans back against the pillows, hands clasped together under his head. “Awww, did the little slime monster get you, Sammy?”

“It was a p’stajon, Dean.”

“Slime monster. And you ganked it, right?” Sam nods. “Good. Then you’ve earned a reward. Go take your shower. And then we’ll play. And I’ll… keep… harrrShooo! Whoo! That sneeze felt good!”

Sam escapes into the bathroom at once, breathing so heavily and so quickly it feels like his lungs are going to rip out of his chest along with his racing heart. Dean knows perfectly well what this does to him. And Sam can’t shower fast enough.

He emerges a dozen minutes later with no traces of the slime on him. He’s got on a fluffy white bathrobe, underwear, and nothing else.

“So. You decide which game you wanna play?”

Sam nods as he walks smoothly to the bed. “Yeah… I think… all of them.” In one swift movement, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and fixes one end around the headboard post, the other around Dean’s wrist. Dramatically, he turns his back to drop a paperclip into his pocket without Dean watching. Then he climbs onto the bed, mounting Dean. “You remember all the rules, right?”

Sam could have been a lawyer. Sam likes his rules. But he’s never insisted on them all at once like this. This is new. This is exciting. They’re both hard just thinking about it. There’s the rule where Dean’s only allowed to try freeing himself while he’s sneezing, which takes an insane amount of coordination and a whole bunch of sneezes. There’s the rule that Dean’s got to let Sam know when he’s going to sneeze, even when they sneak up on him at the last second. There’s the rule that Dean’s not allowed to touch his nose with a hand or tissue; if he needs his nose taken care of, he has to ask Sammy or rub it into his shoulder or a pillow or something nearby. These can be frustrating, but there are also a few rules Dean actually likes. There’s the rule that they have to be in constant contact, some part of them touching at all times. And there’s the rule where, if he actually manages to successfully hold back a sneeze, he earns a kiss.   

Dean nods, remembering them all. “And I… hah… I’m going to sneeze.” His hand slips into one of Sam’s bathrobe pockets—the wrong one, as it turns out. “hahhh-ARshoo! Dabbit!” He sniffs, withdrawing his hand without anything in it. “Rub by dose for be, Sabby?”

Sammy’s a chubby twelve-year-old. Sabby, on the other hand, is a man who just so happens to get off on rubbing his brother’s sniffly nose for him. Dean’s nose is warm and just a little damp, but it must be itchy, considering the way it twitches against his hand. “Need to sneeze again?”

Dean gasps, nodding. “Yeh-yes. I… hah-hahh-AHShhhh! Add adother… ahhhh-HARshoo!” He lowers his hand, just a few seconds short of getting the bent paperclip to spring the lock in his handcuff; it would have been easier if Sam had put the key in his pocket, but since when did Dean need a key to get out of handcuffs? “I deed a tissue.”

Of course he did. Sam goes for the tissue box and “Oops!” He knocks it off the bed with such force that it slides across the room and hits the wall. “Guess that’ll have to wait.” Dean’s still handcuffed to the bed, and the rule is that they have to be touching, constantly touching. Even with Dean stretched out upon the bed and Sam hooking one foot around to reach, he wouldn’t be able to get to the tissue box now. “Here.” He reaches out his arm and Dean snuffles into the thick white cotton bathrobe. Then his nose slides down, snuffling against Sam’s wrist.

Sam gasps as the sensitive skin there feels Dean’s nostrils twitch. “Just so sneezy,” he murmurs. “Think… think I’m going to sneeze again… at least four times…” His eyes close and nose wrinkles. “har-AHshh! Harshoo! Hurshuhhh!” He takes another breath, a balance of his will against the urge, and lets it out. “Ha!”

He’s earned a kiss for holding that one back. And, more importantly, he’s freed himself. He uses both hands to pull Sam down and kiss him deeply. Then he buries his nose against Sam’s shoulder, rubbing it against the bathrobe. “Sorry. S-so allergic… have to… harashhhhh! Hahshuhh!” He sighs and throws his head back. “I dod’t thig they’re ever goig to stob.”

“Tease!”

“You dow you love it.” Dean’s hands travel down and undo the bathrobe tie. He tugs at the waistband of Sam’s underwear. “Get these off. I deed to blow by dose. I dod’t soud sexy whed I talk dirty with a stuffed-up dose.”

Dean’s never sounded sexier, and he knows it. But Sam obliges. He keeps his legs touching either side of Dean’s as he slides them down a little. Then he rolls onto his side and one hand palms Dean’s chest while the other tugs at the underpants. His lips press against Dean’s bare shoulder as his body bends and the underwear slips off.

He produces them, victorious, just as Dean starts to fight another build-up. But the sneezes get the better of him. “I… I hahhhh… oh, just give that. I’b goig to hahhh sdeeze…” His face buried in the warm cloth, he pitched forward. “hahhShuhhh! HAHShhoo!” He blows his nose, and Sam tosses the underwear. “Th-thanks. Hah-ARShhhh!”

Sam chuckles. He runs his hand down Dean’s front, takes hold of Dean’s cock, and starts stroking. “You didn’t warn me about that last one there, you know.”

“Shit.” He sniffles. “Is there a punishment?”

This is a matter of some consideration. “I could put the handcuffs back on…” But Dean would just get out of them again during his next sneezing fit or two. “Or I could roll you over and spank you…” Which is absurd; they don’t play that way, not since Dean got back from Hell. “Or I could stop kissing you. Or stop stroking you.”

“But you won’t.”

“No. Of course not.” He slides down a bit in bed, helping to keep Dean’s erection interested with his tongue. Of course he wouldn’t. The rules are there for fun, so they won’t be broken. And when they are… they just write it off and try again. That’s what the Winchesters did.

“Good, ‘cause I… I feel another… big, this time…”

“They’re all big,” Sam murmurs, looking up, eagerly.

Dean’s face screws up, breath catches. It takes a painful amount of time. But, finally, he exhales.

Sam scoots up and kisses Dean’s anti-possession tattoo as a reward. “Your turn to kiss me,” Sam requests, holding his position.

“What? Sniff!”

“C’mon, Dean. Don’t argue. Just do it.”

Dean lowers his head and kisses the top of Sam’s. But, halfway through the kiss, he tenses. He pulls back, eyes watering. “You… you used that shampoo, didn’t you? You kinky little…” Instinctively, his hand goes toward his nose, but he puts it back down just in time. “hahERSchhhh!” His whole body shakes with the force. “You know that hahh that stuff makes me sn-errShuhhh! ARchuhhhhh!”

“I do know.” Sam crawls up the rest of the way and forces a leg in-between Dean’s. “That’s why you slipped the bottle into my bag.”

Dean looks like he’s about to be quite miserable, his nose twitching, chest heaving with involuntary gasps. But he cranes his neck, buries his face against the side of Sam’s, and purposefully takes a few deep breaths of the somewhat floral scent of the shampoo from dozens of motel rooms ago that makes his nose go crazy. He barely has time to cup his hand to Sam’s ass, pulling him as close as he’ll get, before sneezing. “hah-ARSHOO!”

The first sneeze is so impressive that Sam wishes he could marvel at it. It’s strong against his shoulder, and so wet, but the sound was perfect, magical, just what Sam likes. But the sneezes keep coming, unstoppable now, and all rules are forgotten.

“Harshuhhh! HEHShooo! HehChshhh! HERShuhh! Hersheh!” Sam cries out, his hand still at Dean’s crotch. “hahRShhh! HahShuhh! HIHShhhhh!” Sam’s doing a terrible job of stroking now as his own body shakes as he comes and Dean keeps right on sneezing. “hahh-ERshuh! Archoo! Ahshuhhh! Hahh… hahhURShhhh!”

Dean comes after Sam is done. He comes with Sammy’s mouth around his cock, sucking. He comes, still sneezing, but with his own hand cupped to his face so he doesn’t spray Sam while Sam’s busy swallowing. When he’s done, they kiss, but Dean can only hold the kiss for a second before needing to sneeze again.

“Harshhhh! Dow… hahh-ERShhhhh! Dow cad I hab the tissues?”

Sam’s off the bed in an instant. He grabs the tissue box off the floor. He also gets a Benadryl and glass of water from the bathroom.

After Dean is thoroughly dosed and has gone through a quarter of the tissues in the box, the sneezes begin to subside. Sam can’t help but be a little disappointed by this. But Dean’s arm is around him and he rests his head on Dean’s chest so he can hear the few remaining sneezes left as they come. He isn’t even the one on Benadryl and he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open.

“New rule,” Dean says, his words tickling the back of Sam’s neck.

“Hmm?”

“Next time, you have to tell me when you’re about to come. Otherwise, I might miss it as I’m sneezing my head off. And, that way, I have a chance of backing off and making the fun last longer.”

Sam, eyes closing, grins contentedly.