fanfiction

Uniform ☆ Supernatural

Character/Pairing: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Wincest
Prompt: Uniform
Date Written: 26/09/2009

The moment the door handle so much as jingled, Dean Winchester was on his feet, hand shooting up in a stiff salute. His form was sturdy and standing at attention, eyes staring forward and waiting impatiently to be addressed. Not so much that the position was uncomfortable, years of that had long since trained his body for it to become second nature. No, what he wanted to be able to do was simply-

“At ease, Lieutenant.”

Ahh and there it was. That firm tone that caused his insides to tingle. His arm dropped back to his side before he visibly relaxed, his knees bending a bit and he freely allowed himself to take in the sight of the man before him. “Thank you, sir.”

It never went past Dean how damn tempting he could be in his uniform. That pure white cloth fit perfectly over his long limbs and was pulled just right over his torso, covering up the solid form he knew entirely well lay just underneath. Even the way his eyes stared out at him from under the dark visor of his white hat made him look so-

He had to bite the inside of his lip to suppress anymore thoughts. He was getting ahead of himself again.

“Have you been waiting long?” He questioned, pulling the hat off and setting it up on one of the filing cabinets.

Dean shock his head and smirked. “I don’t like to wait around like someone I know. Sir.” He added playfully.

His view of the room shifted as large fingers were laid on his hip and guided him back until he bumped into the desk he’d been staring hungrily at only moments ago. Now, however, green eyes were tilted up by those commanding hands he adored so much. His superior slid closer, forehead pressed against his and his lips breathing charm against his own. Dean allowed one slow pant to leave his lungs early.

“Keep up the attitude and next time I’ll make you wait longer.”

That was a terrible thought and he wanted to avoid having that happen. Tipping his chin up, Dean hoped to be able to claim those lips that rested so delicately close but found that they’d started to slide down the flushed skin that patterned his cheeks. That was not the cause of Dean’s reaction time.

“And here I thought that you were actually going to pick up the pace today. You usually- ah!” He hissed, hand shooting up to tightly grip his clothed biceps. A dull pain pulsed from his ear where his General’s lips were currently pressed against. “-tease.” He finished shortly, figuring the bite had been to shut him up.

Keeping his other hand behind him, palm pressed against the desktop for support, Dean leaned into the man more only to be crushed back into the desk. Electricity pulsed through his veins at the pressure of such a close proximity. The navy blue jacket covering his shoulder was pushing to the side awkwardly and soon a familiar tongue was dragging across the skin found there. Tipping his head a bit to the opposite side, his lungs puffed out a couple quiet moans, low enough for their ears alone. Something was telling him to keep his voice low or someone outside was bound to hear and break this up.

“You’re a cruel man, General Wesson.” He chuckled softly, hoping that maybe if he annoyed the man a little, he might give Dean what he wanted.

“I don’t see how that’s supposed to be a complaint. You keep coming back, don’t you?” The reply was immediate, like he’d been expecting just that comment. His lips trailed up along his neck and placed a quick kiss to the corner of his lips before he leaned his head back a bit.

“Under orders.” Dean replied, staring back into hazel eyes that were swimming in their own satisfaction. He couldn’t really be annoyed when such a sexy smile was spread across those lips he wanted so badly.

Fingers gripped his chin tightly and Dean fell silent, curiosity peaked and aching for his hope to be fulfilled. “Do you really expect me to believe that, Winchester?” There was mockery in his voice and Dean couldn’t blame him. They both knew that was a lie. The grip tightened just the slightest and he moved in a few inches, wrapping his free arm around the Lieutenant’s waist. “You, who is practically chained to my desk, who is constantly at my beck and call, want me to believe that you’re solely here underorders?”

It wouldn’t have mattered even if Dean had wanted to reply because the General moved in more and soon their noses were brushing and he forgot how to breath for a moment. The strong fingers moved down from his chin, sliding his palm along the column of his neck as his smirk only increased.

Winchester was reduced to panting.

“Well then, I order you to leave.” He spoke but made no motion at all to let the other go. He stared into his eyes with a challenge and Dean had always been good at picking up on those.

“Like hell.” He nearly growled, both hands coming forward to curl into the rough fabric, pulling down hard on his collar to finally crush their lips together in a desperate hunger.

Fingers slid from his collar to wrap around his neck as his lips fell open in invitation. A hand slid down his hip and rested against Dean’s ass, pulling him close. That devilish tongue had no qualms about sliding against his, all too happy to produce a throaty moan from the smaller man. Melting into the kiss, he allowed himself to be dominated, content to simply be wrapped up in these enticing arms.

“Dean.”

The man in question allowed his eyes to wander open until he noticed something. Their mouths were still connected in their heated exchange.

“Dean!” That was definitely his voice, commanding as usu-

A shove against the side of his skull and the elder bolted into a sitting position. Sniffing loudly, he realized there was a wet spot on the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away hastily.

“I leave for ten minutes and you pass out on my computer?” Sam questioned, setting down a brown paper bag and a tray that perfectly fit two paper cups. Pulling one out, he handed it over to Dean before looking at him oddly. “Did you at least findanything?”

Blinking a couple times, Dean rubbed the side of his face as he looked over at the screen lite up before him. His eyes were still a bit hazy but he shifted his position and allowed his eyes to focus. Finally, they settled on the article he’d been reading before he dozed off. He couldn’t remember having fallen asleep. Though he supposed it made perfect sense. One minute he was reading about this old Navy ghost from some war and the next he was being ravished by …

“Yeah, I found something … just … haven’t read through it completely.” He spoke, looking up at his younger brother and had to blink twice because in his sleepy state, he could have sworn he’d seen him with a white hat. Ohh, there was no way that dream was ever coming up in conversation so he had to ensure that he kept his facial expression drowsy. No sign of anything odd and Sam would be none the wiser.

It was then that he noticed the cup and plucked it from the awaiting hand. Sipping back a pipping hot gulp of coffee, Dean slowly rose to his feet and twisted himself about so that his back was facing Sam when he walked past him. It didn’t seem to matter anyway since it was then that Sam replaced his brother at the chair and pulled the computer toward him.

“Ahh, Dean! Come on!”

“What?” He called over his shoulder as he stepped into the bathroom.

“You drooled on my keyboard!”

Setting the cup down on the edge of the counter, Dean shut the door behind himself and locked it. “Just wipe it off, it’s fine.”

“That’s not the point, Dean.”

Reaching over to the tap, he turned both on full blast, figuring that’d be enough noise to drown out both whatever complaint Sam had next and would in turn keep Sam oblivious from what problem he was taking care of behind closed doors. He’d keep this fantasy to himself. It would come in handy later.

FIN ★ ☆ ★ Constructive critique always welcome!

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