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The Highway 20 interstate was perpetually dusty. If he didn't have a bandana to wrap around his face, and enough water to last him a few more days, Dean might've been worried about his survival as the dry wind kicked up around him, hot and gritty and constant.
Hitchhiking was a lot tougher than he'd expected, considering the hospitable reputation of the south. Coming out of Texas and aiming for Louisiana, he'd figured it wouldn't be difficult to catch lifts off and on until he could maybe find somewhere to hustle up the cash for a Greyhound ticket. But to his surprise, the few cars that passed him just kept on going, ignoring the dust-coated body on the side of the road, thumb raised and face becoming more desperate each time.
It was getting to be mid-afternoon, which meant the heat was reaching unbearable levels. He sighed, glancing back once more in futile hope; but there were no vehicles, no tell-tale cloud of an approaching car or truck kicking up dirt in its wake.
Stepping off of the road, he found one of the few trees that offered real shade, and sank to the ground, letting his backpack fall beside him. The bandana came off, and he spared a small splash of water to try and wring some of the grime out of it. Rather pointlessly, he rubbed at the sweat and grit on his face, knowing he must look like hell.
Distantly, the sound of an engine reached him, and he glanced back to see what looked like a decent-sized pickup truck rumbling into view, seemingly dragging a trailer behind. Could be someone towing horses, or farm supplies, but as the truck drew closer Dean realized it was more of a camper trailer. Maybe a nomad, like him.
He stood, expectations low, and moved to where he was in view of the road, raising one hand with the thumb up. At this point he doubted they'd stop, but there was no harm in trying. He was out of food, out of money, and low on options.
The driver must've spotted him, because the truck slowed--and then to Dean's immense relief, the right blinker switched on, signaling a pull-off. Truck and trailer eased into the dusty shoulder, and came to a stop in a cloud of pale brown haze, the engine cutting off with a low growl.
Dean walked to the passenger side, slowly, not grabbing his bag yet. Through the open window, he got a good look at his potential lift.
Well, hot damn.
Everything about him spelled southern-raised, from the rolled up sleeves of the button-down he wore over a smudged grey v-neck, to the cap on his head, to the easy smile he offered Dean with a small tip of his head. And then he spoke, and the smooth roll of a Louisiana accent rolled over Dean like warm molasses.
"Afternoon. Need a ride, brother?"
Dean hadn't thought he was a sucker for any particular accent, but there was no denying the way his blood warmed at that drawl. The guy was attractive too--maybe not conventionally, but definitely right up Dean's alley. Broad-shouldered, firm jaw, little bit of scruff on his cheeks that Dean could just imagine the sweet burn of feeling it scrape against his skin.
He needed to get his mind out the gutter, that was for sure. "Uh--yeah," he tried, then coughed at how dusty his own voice was. He cleared it, smiling apologetically. "Yeah, if you're, if that's okay. I'm just heading sort of northeast at this point."
That got a nod, and another honey-sweet smile. "Sure thing. I'm heading down toward New Orleans, but I got no rush. Be happy to get you out of this God-awful heat, and closer to where you need to be."
"Thank you, man, seriously." Hurrying back to grab his bag, Dean returned and climbed into the truck. It was clean and bare inside, the decorations limited to a pendant of an anchor hanging off of the rearview mirror, and a photo of a young woman holding a baby tucked up behind the steering wheel.
Dean nodded at it, smiling politely. "Yours?"
His host glanced at it, and chuckled, shaking his head as he restarted the engine and pulled back onto the highway. "Nah, my sister and her little girl." He got up to a good speed, then reached his left hand out. "Name's Benny."
Dean shook his hand, trying not to sigh out loud at the pleasure of the firm grip. "Dean." It had been so long since he'd met someone who exuded this kind of easy strength and confidence, subtle authority in their voice and actions, and it was rubbing at him in all the right ways. He hoped he wouldn't accidentally put Benny off by how revealing affected he was.
Benny had his window down, left arm propped on the sill and fingers drumming absently on the frame. "What's northeast?" he asked conversationally, tone clearly indicating that Dean was free to refuse an answer.
Dean smiled again, settling back comfortably into the deep seat. He stretched his legs out, savoring the rest and the space. "Home, or the closest thing to it," he answered. "I've been traveling with my dad most of my life, living on the road, but it’s been a few weeks since I saw him last. The only place we've really got is a family friend in Sioux Falls, so I'm making my way there. Hoping he'll lend me one of his junker cars, so I can head out west and check on my brother, too. He's at Stanford."
He paused, then laughed self-deprecatingly. "I'm sorry, that was like a full-on history. Didn't mean to spill my whole travel journal to you."
"S'completely fine," Benny said, switching lanes to go around a Toyota that was going 20 under the speed limit. "Good to know you're an honest traveller, not just a serial killer charming his way into his would-be victims' cars."
That made Dean snort, leaning sideways to enjoy the rushing air on his face. "Nope, not a serial killer. Though to be fair, if I was one, I'd probably have a similar cover story to get rides anyway."
"Fair point." Benny's chuckle was even prettier than his speaking voice, low and deep and sending pleasant shivers down Dean's spine that he studiously tried to ignore. "So, brother at Stanford? He a smart one?"
Thinking of Sam always made Dean smile, and pride warmed his voice. "Oh, yeah. He's always been the genius in the family. Studying to be a lawyer, now. Last we talked, he had this great girlfriend, and he was doing well with school, he was really happy." Dean's gaze jumped up, his usual reflex for repressing any sad tugs at his heart. "It's been a while, though."
"He didn't travel with you and your old man?"
Memories twinged in Dean's chest, making his voice tighten. "Yeah, he did, until he left for college. Dad wasn't too thrilled."
Benny's voice was softer, kinder. "I'm sorry."
Dean shrugged. "Eh, water under bridges and all that. Me and Dad did alright for ourselves, and Sam's gonna be a great lawyer." He glanced at the anchor swinging gently under the mirror. "Did you work on the water in Louisiana?"
Benny grinned, reaching up to tap a finger fondly on the swaying icon. "Yep, most of my life. Part of a little independent merchant crew. Gave it up for a bit to help my niece out, doing some good ole' Louisiana cooking in the diner her mama had owned." He nodded at the photo. "My sister's no longer with us, but I still hear from Elizabeth sometimes. She's happy enough."
The warmth and openness in his voice made Dean smile, and he shifted a little closer to the other man. "It's nice, isn’t it? Having family out there--knowing that you can always reach out and find them again."
Benny nodded, giving Dean another whiskey-smooth smile. "Indeed, it is."
They stopped at a truck stop just over the Louisiana border, and Dean took advantage of the trucker utilities to get a quick shower. When he emerged, feeling much better despite his still-dirty clothes, he found Benny leaning again the truck with a bag of fast fast food from the gas station.
"Figured we could use a pick-me-up," he said, and Dean nodded gratefully, following him back into the truck. Pulling out the double bacon cheeseburger Benny had gotten him, Dean couldn't suppress a small groan of appreciation.
"Thank you, God, this is perfect," he all but moaned, and when he glanced up, he was surprised to find Benny watching him with mild amusement--and something a little darker, a little more intrigued, in the crystal blue depths of his eyes.
Dean swallowed, licking his lips, and tried not to squirm in his seat as Benny's eyes tracked the flicker of his tongue across his lips. Maybe not so unaffected, after all?
When the food was gone, Dean took the trash out, then paused with one foot back in the truck, leaning his weight forward on his raised knee. Benny glanced over at him questioningly.
"Thanks for picking me up, and for the food, and everything," Dean said, smiling his lopsided smile, the one that used to make Sam roll his eyes and call him a terrible flirt when they were both teenagers. "I don't have any money right now, but I'll definitely find a way to repay you."
To his delight, there was no denying the way Benny's eyes slipped then, tracking down over his body in the dusty brown Henley, blue jeans, and logging boots, or the way his voice had a slightly rougher edge to it when he replied. "Well, I'm sure you'll think of something."
Dean nodded amiably, climbing in and buckling up.
They drove in companionable quiet for a while. At some point Benny switched on the radio, and Dean voiced his approval when the default station was playing classic rock. The opening chords to "Thunderstruck" got him humming, and then he broke out grinning when Benny started singing along, his southern accent not harmonizing with Brian Johnson whatsoever.
It had been ages since Dean had felt this loose and relaxed, head back against the seat, wind in his face, singing and tapping his fingers to a drum beat he'd grown up hearing.
He glanced over at one point, and his breath caught in his chest when he found Benny looking over at him, a small, thoughtful smile on his face. Tension crackled up Dean's back, his fingers twitching with restless energy, but he made himself wait. He'd put out the implication, and now it was for Benny to decide.
The radio cut out in a more remote area, and the quiet was unbroken for a few minutes. Then Benny shifted, drawing Dean's attention back to him. "You said you traveled with your dad a lot?" At Dean's nod, Benny smiled, a little twist of the lips that conveyed caution as well as curiosity, and interest. "So, no one left behind to pine after you? No girlfriend of your own?"
Ah, there it was. Dean smiled, turning his face back toward the window. His voice was light and airy. "Nah, never stayed anywhere long enough to make it last with anyone. There was one time I thought it might be something real...but he had a pretty strict family, and me hitting the road again two months in didn't help at all." He chuckled, remembering big blue eyes, and dark hair ruffled into disorder from hours of making out. "He was sweet. But I think I always wanted something a little more...aggressive."
He heard Benny's breath catch behind him, and he bit his lip to contain his grin, pleased this was going so well.
"How 'bout you?" He glanced back across the seat, taking in the slight flush in Benny's cheeks, the way he shifted his weight ever so slightly as Dean looked at him. "Any broken hearts in your wake?"
Benny snorted, reaching up to adjust his cap to a slightly jauntier angle. "May have been one, but she married another ex of mine soon after I left town, so I don't think she was all that broken up. He was good to me, while it lasted, but, well--" There was mischief in his eyes as he shot Dean a look, waiting for his reaction. "--He was a bit too aggressive for me, I s'pose. Me, I like being the one in charge."
Oh, he was good. Dean swallowed, his jeans feeling markedly tighter as Benny's eyes slid down his body once more, before returning to the road.
It was getting toward evening, the setting sun painting long lines of color through the thin cloud streaks scattered across the sky. Dean glanced back through the window at the trailer bumping along behind them.
"Do you sleep in that?" he asked, keeping his body turned toward Benny as he looked over at him.
Benny glanced in the mirror, changing lanes as he began scanning the roadside. "Yup. There's a bed, of sorts, and a camp stove. It's an okay setup for a wanderer."
"It's great," ”Dean agreed with a smile, glancing around as Benny selected his stop for the night. There were street lamps from what appeared to be a campsite a few hundred yards away, which meant fresh water and bathrooms. Dean nodded to himself, braced for the possibility that he wouldn't get anywhere tonight.
He was about to open his mouth, to ask if Benny had a sleeping bag or something he could borrow and carry over to the camp area, when a heavy hand dropped to rest on the back of his neck, sending sparks of heat scattering all down his spine and into his limbs. He turned his head as much as was allowed, meeting Benny's gaze in the dimly lit cab.
Benny had a very faint smile on his face, and an almost predatory gleam in his eyes. "Thought about how you wanna repay me, yet?"
The invitation couldn't have been clearer, and Dean was so turned on by it that his voice cracked fractionally. "Oh my God, yes." Lunging across the seat, he slammed his mouth onto Benny's, feeling the hand on his neck twist to follow him, Benny's strong fingers pressing in to hold him tight, angling his head just how Benny wanted it.
The other man allowed him to lead for another moment, letting Dean push his tongue into his mouth and explore, before his hands slid down to close around Dean's biceps in a death grip. Dean froze, recognizing the command and waiting for further instruction.
Benny drew back, his smile absolutely wicked, and pushed Dean gently back on the bench seat. "Stay," he murmured, and Dean nodded mutely, watching as Benny got out of the truck, walking around the front of the vehicle, whistling some folksy little tune. Dean's cock throbbed in his jeans, and he squirmed a little, desperate to be touched again.
"Be still, boy." Benny's voice was amused, not angry, and Dean merely grinned as the older man appeared at his doorway, reaching in to grab Dean's leg and yank on him. He came willingly, letting Benny haul him out of the truck, and waited while Benny climbed into the passenger seat before turning to face Dean again.
"C'mere, gorgeous," Benny rumbled, and Dean eagerly climbed back in, allowing Benny to guide him into place, straddling his lap, denim rubbing denim as his thighs closed tightly around the outside of Benny's hips. The door snapped shut behind him, bringing back the darkness and the intimacy of the truck cab.
For a moment it was still and quiet, the only sound Dean's soft panting, the only movement the warm brush of their shared breath as their faces hovered close together.
Benny raised a hand to stroke over Dean's face, fingers rubbing the five o'clock shadow left over from not shaving for two days. "You got a safeword?" he asked softly, and Dean wanted so badly to kiss him.
"'Impala,'" he answered, and smiled when Benny arched an inquiring eyebrow. "The car I grew up living out of. My favorite of the classics."
Benny nodded, accepting that. "Sure you want this?" was his next question, his hand roaming to trace down the muscular cord of Dean's neck, thumb rubbing at his collar bone. The heat of his palm seared Dean's skin, and he leaned closer, pushing into the light hold.
"God, yes," he whispered, holding back from kissing those soft, chapped pink lips with all of his willpower. "Want you. Want to be yours tonight." His hips rolled a little, instinctively, and Benny smirked, reaching around to smack his ass lightly.
"Behave," he rumbled, and Dean didn't suppress his moan at the heat that flared across his backside, and the dark glint in Benny's eyes. The sound made Benny buck up slightly in response, and Dean whimpered needily when he felt Benny's erection grind against his own through their jeans.
"So damn pretty," Benny growled, hands closing over Dean's hips and dragging him closer, harder, rubbing their groins together. "You're so beautiful, Dean. So glad I stopped for you."
Dean whined low in his throat, his hands going behind Benny's neck and clinging to him as he struggled not to hump the other man's lap. He wanted desperately to obey, to be exactly what Benny wanted.
There was a low hum of pleasure in his ear. "Being so good for me, holding yourself back like that. You're good at this, huh? Like being the bottom, like submitting to someone who knows how to look after you?"
His voice alone was working Dean rapidly toward the edge, and he trembled violently against the urge to keep rocking his hips, resisting his own pleasure resolutely. "Yeah," he managed to gasp, focusing on answering. "Yeah, I--I want to, wanna sub for you." Benny's fingers slid beneath his shirt, distracting him, and he sighed as those sturdy fingers pressed hard, so gloriously hard into the defined curves of his hipbones. "Wanna ride you--wanna ride your cock and make you come--"
Benny laughed, low and sinful, nosing his way along Dean's jaw and leaving light, scratchy kisses along the skin. "Hmm, gonna let me give you two rides in one day, baby?"
The comparison got through the fog in his brain, and Dean giggled, the sound biting off in a gasp as Benny bit down on his neck, leaving a guaranteed red mark blossoming on the freckled skin. Dean's whole body arched forward, his fingers sliding into the short, thick hair at the back of Benny's head and gripping helplessly. Benny reached up to push his cap out of the way, letting Dean cling to him.
"I'm gonna look after you the way you need me to, gorgeous," he whispered into Dean's skin, licking over the spot he'd bitten. "Can I get this shirt off?"
Dean nodded, making incoherent sounds of affirmation, and shifted his upper body back to let Benny slide the sweat-dampened fabric of his Henley up and off. It landed in the driver's seat, forgotten. Benny's fingers splayed across his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the pounding of his heart, and the hard buds of his nipples, making Dean lean back, extending his torso, putting himself on display.
Benny chuckled, pinching one nipple sharply, and Dean cried out at the flare of pain, but he couldn't pretend he didn't love it, and Benny knew it. "Mmm, you're gonna be absolutely perfect for me, aren't you, Dean..." He leaned in, sliding his tongue along the ridge of Dean's collarbone and downward, swirling it around the pebbled rise of Dean's nipple before latching on with his teeth, and sucking lightly.
Dean whined at the hot, wet sensation, bracing his hands on Benny's knees as his chest was explored. Vaguely he recognized that Benny's fingers were circling his wrists, closing around them and keeping his hands firmly clasped on Benny's spread knees, and he moaned at the picture he knew he must be making, kneeling astride the other man with his back arched, head thrown back, arms stretched back to support his own weight while Benny held him fast.
"You like me holding you down like this?" Benny's voice was a gravelly rasp, making Dean's cock twitch and leak uncontrollably in his pants. He managed a nod, tugging his arms to test Benny's resolve, and whimpered happily when the other man's hands didn't give an inch.
Benny's laugh was a near-silent vibration in his chest, quivering against Dean's bare skin. "You're not going anywhere I don't take you," he murmured, and Dean stiffened, fighting to remain utterly still, desperate not to come just from hearing those firm, commanding words.
In a flash, Benny's right hand was at his crotch, yanking open his button and zipper and freeing his cock, but before Dean could so much as gasp out the worry that he might finish, Benny's fingers closed punishingly around the base of his dick, squeezing fiercely, and with a truly dizzying wave of redirected arousal, Dean's orgasm receded, gradually.
When he knew he was safe from any chance of coming, Dean slumped forward against Benny's chest, keeping his own hands loosely behind his back. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely, and Benny's left hand tightened on his side, supporting his weight and comforting him through the residual tingles of near-bliss.
"Good boy," Benny murmured, and that southern drawl shot straight to Dean's cock, making it flex back to full spirit, dribbling more pre-come into Benny's waiting hand.
He grinned, capturing the clear fluid and lifting it to Dean's mouth. "Clean that up for me, boy, and then I'm gonna get you outta these jeans, and get started on preppin' that pretty ass of yours for me to fuck you. Alright?"
A wave of wanting swept through Dean, so intense that for a heartbeat he couldn't speak. But he didn't need to. Dipping his face, he parted his lips and began to lap his own pre-come off of the hot, deliciously rough skin of Benny's hand, savoring every callous and crease his tongue swept over. He heard Benny's breath catch at his obvious enthusiasm, and he played it up more, running his tongue between every finger and around the tips, washing Benny's hand by tongue.
The grip on his wrist tightened, and he opened his eyes to find Benny's glacial gaze blazing into his own. "Sit up, baby."
He obeyed, maintaining his balance carefully while Benny dragged his jeans down his hips, grunting his approval at Dean's lack of underwear. With some cautious shuffling, Benny worked him free from his boots and socks, then his jeans, and Dean whimpered in pleasure when he found himself completely bare, straddling the still-clothed man beneath him.
"You wanna strip, too?" he asked softly, leaving control in Benny's hands.
The larger man grinned wolfishly, reaching down to begin stroking Dean's prick again, making him jolt and shake as he tried to remain still.
"I kinda like it this way," Benny rumbled. "You all bare and vulnerable, where the whole world could see you being such a good boy for me." He leaned in, nipping lightly at Dean's shoulder. "I do wanna feel your skin, though. Go ahead and take my shirt off, baby."
Sighing in relief, Dean brought his arms forward, pushing the dark green button-down off of Benny's shoulders. When it was discarded, he set to work tugging up the v-neck, letting out an inarticulate mumble of pleasure at the taut belly and firm chest that were exposed underneath.
Benny smirked as Dean set his shirt aside, eyes riveted on the body beneath him. "Like what you see, sweetheart?" he teased, and Dean's eyes snapped back to his face, a mischievous glint flickering to life in the green irises.
"Very much," he purred, leaning in to press a biting kiss to Benny's abdomen, feeling the muscle flex and tighten beneath his teeth as Benny hissed in pleasure.
"Oh, you are a smartass, aren't you," Benny muttered, but he was grinning, and Dean counted it as a victory when the penalty for his initiative was Benny's fingers stroking down the length of his back, along the crack of his ass, and then one tip circled his hole.
He arched back, not bothering to suppress a wanton little moan. "Please, please, I need it.."
Benny laughed low in his throat, his free hand snapping up to clasp Dean's jaw, the tips of his fingers digging in until Dean opened his eyes and looked at Benny. "Thought this was about what I want, boy," he said, his accent thick as sugar. "Wasn't this your way of repaying me for the ride?"
The words were reprimanding, but his tone was silk and fire, lighting every single nerve ending on Dean's body up like the Fourth of fucking July. He tried to nod, but Benny's fingers held him still, and he licked his lips unconsciously, brushing Benny's knuckles as he did so.
"It is," he whispered. "I want--to give you whatever you need. Take what you want." The mental image his own words were painting was overwhelming, and his hips rolled forward without a thought, but he stilled when Benny's hand on his ass drew back, leaving him bereft. "Let me pay you back." The words were tumbling free now, raw and pleading and unfiltered. "Let me be good for you."
Benny's eyes were such bottomless pools of clear cerulean blue, Dean could've lost himself in them for hours. "Alright, then," he replied, then leaned in and kissed Dean's mouth, so tenderly that it shocked him after the proceedings thus far.
There was shuffling behind him, the glove box opening and closing, and then the distinctive snap of a bottle of lube opening. Dean grinned, wanting very much to arch forward and preen a little, but he resisted, forcing himself to be still and wait for orders.
A chuckle shook Benny's chest against his. "Now you're getting it. Good boy."\
Before Dean could react to the praise, there was a slick finger nudging at his entrance, and he gave a low cry of pleasure as he was penetrated. Benny started slowly, stroking in and out and massaging the muscle gently until it began to loosen.
Before he was quite ready for it, Dean felt the second finger, and he hissed despite himself at the faint burn as it pushed inside. Benny paused, searching his face. "You with me, Dean?"
Dean opened his eyes, finding those beautiful blue irises inches from his own, and he smiled, letting himself relax and fall into the subtle surrender of just trusting. "Yeah. I'm good." He leaned in, daring to steal a kiss, thrilled when Benny allowed it, his tongue stroking over Dean's lips lightly. "Green light," he murmured, circling his hips to take Benny's fingers deeper, feeling his hand twitch at the unexpected movement. "Go on, do me."
Benny's eyebrows rose a little, and then he smirked, slow and promising. "Well, if you insist, baby."
Both fingers pushed inside, twisting and scissoring to work him open, and Dean moaned at the hot stretch of his body spreading to admit the intrusion. "So good," he panted, his legs stiffening to hold him still above Benny's lap as he fingered him. "Feels so damn good."
Benny reached around with his free hand, drizzling more lube down the seam of Dean's ass, nuzzling into his throat as his third finger began to work inside. "Could say the same to you, gorgeous--tight little ass, so hot, opening right up for me. I'm gonna love fucking you, pushing deep into this sweet ass of yours--"
Dean cried out as Benny struck his prostate, and Benny groaned, narrowing in on that and massaging the gland roughly, making Dean buck involuntarily as he rubbed that sweet spot inside him, until Dean was shaking and whining above him. "Gonna--gonna come--if you keep doing that--" he ground out, then yelped when Benny abruptly pulled his fingers free, leaving Dean to collapse against Benny's chest with a moan of protest.
Benny's voice was a brush of warm air on his ear. "Can't have that now, not till I say, beautiful." His tongue lapped at the lobe, and Dean shivered at the wet heat on his sensitive skin. "Can I have you now, Dean? Will you let me inside you?"
A full-body shudder racked him, and Dean forced himself up, grabbing the back of the seat and the handle above the passenger door to lift himself back up. "Yes, God yes, please, just fuck me," he gasped, and Benny grinned at the desperation in his voice.
"S’alright, baby, I got you," he whispered, grabbing Dean's hips with one hand, and pressing his cock against Dean's hole with the other. "Sink down on me now, sweetheart," he added, and Dean obeyed eagerly, groaning aloud as Benny's dick sank into him, inch by inch, filling him completely.
"Oh, God, yes," he panted as he bottomed out, his ass resting snugly against Benny's thighs. "Holy fuck, yes, Benny, feel so good, oh--"
Benny bucked up, shoving deeper, and Dean let out a keening cry at the friction, letting his hands fall onto Benny's shoulders in submission. Accepting the invitation, Benny's hands closed around his hips, and he began driving hard up into Dean's body, fucking him fast and rough.
The hammering against his inner walls, and the frequent striking of his prostate, had Dean throwing his head back and crying out in short, breathless yelps, Benny's name and several profanities mixed in as he took the pounding. His back arched, his hands scrabbling for anything to hold onto as he submitted to the ride of his life.
Benny's voice was gruff as he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, hauling him closer on his lap. "God almighty, you feel good," he murmured, his hips spiking off of the seat as he slammed up into Dean's ass. "Taking it so well, riding my cock like you were born for it--"
Dean could feel the increase in speed, the way Benny's hips stuttered against his, and he tightened his thighs, inwardly clamping down, then grinned in triumph when Benny gave an aborted little cry, slamming up into him, his upper body curling in around Dean, arms locking around his waist.
Their sweat-soaked bodies were pressed together from collar to groin, and Dean could feel shudders running through Benny’s entire body as he climaxed, his hips jolting and spasming with smaller thrusts that left Dean’s whole body tingling with the pleasure of seeing the other man so undone for him.
Benny was panting heavily when he tilted his head back, planting a soft kiss on Dean’s lips. As he put some distance between them, Dean couldn’t suppress a tiny whine at the loss of contact against his own, still very hard, dick, and Benny chuckled. “Oh, don’t you worry, baby, I didn’t forget about you,” he murmured, sliding one hand between them to close around the erection that was leaking copiously onto his stomach. Dean bit down a cry, arching into the touch, and then moaned when the movement made Benny’s spent cock slip out of him.
“So wet,” he whispered, his thighs tightening and trembling at the sensations inside him. “God, I’m dripping with it, feels so fuckin’ good--”
The hand not stroking his cock reached around him, and Dean threw his head back with a gasp of pure bliss when Benny slid two fingers back into his now-gaping hole, playing in the slick slide of his own come in Dean’s ass. “Mm, you like that, like how wet and sloppy and fucked-out I got you?” Benny rumbled, leaning in to press his lips against Dean’s shoulder, teeth gently digging into the meat. “Like being all filled up, all soaked from getting fucked so good and hard?”
Dean’s mind was starting to go blank from the pleasure. “Ye--yeah,” he panted, hands clenching around Benny’s upper arms, desperate for some stability. “Please, God, please Benny, I’m gonna--I’ll come if you keep--”
Another low laugh, and Benny released his cock only long enough to press on his chest, pushing him back until his shoulders were propped on the dashboard of the truck. Then Benny resumed jerking him, leaning forward to close his mouth around Dean’s left nipple and bite down , hard.
The sweet stinging pressure of the bite, coupled with the merciless stroking of his hand on Dean’s prick, and the fingers still fucking into him with the obscenely wet sound of come, sent Dean hurtling toward the edge. “Please,” he wheezed out, the word almost airless.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” Benny growled against his skin, turning his head to bite the right nipple instead. “Come for me now, Dean.”
With a helpless little scream, Dean surrendered to his orgasm, feeling it wash through him like white-hot sparks as his cock jerked and pulsed in Benny’s grasp, spilling into his hand. His entire body shuddered through the aftershocks, shoulders shaking against the dashboard, thighs quivering around Benny’s, the denim rubbing roughly against the sweaty skin as he came down from his climax.
When he calmed down enough to raise his head, Benny was wearing a small, satisfied smile, holding Dean’s come in one hand. “Should probably get you cleaned up,” he said lightly, stroking his other hand up the length of Dean’s belly and chest, feeling him tremble.
Dean sat up immediately, reaching for Benny’s hand and lifting it to begin lapping his come up out of Benny’s palm. The older man’s breath hitched, ever so slightly, and his free hand drifted from Dean’s torso up to the back of his head, stroking through his hair; when Dean angled it back to peer at his face, to see if he should continue, Benny smirked, his fingers tightening in the dirty blonde strands to push his head back down, the command clear: keep going.
Obediently Dean finished his task, licking up his own fluids, and as he gathered the last of it, Benny murmured, “Don’t swallow it all, sit up when you have the rest of it.” Dean obliged, sitting up with his lips parted, tongue heavy with one last mouthful.
Benny leaned in, his own tongue probing out to ease into Dean’s mouth, sucking the salty white liquid away, and Dean moaned faintly as he surrendered it.
“So damn good,” Benny muttered again, giving him one last, searing kiss. “Thank you, Dean.”
The sweat was cooling on their bodies, and Dean shivered faintly as he regained awareness of where he was, glancing outside to see if they’d accidentally given anyone a show. They were alone, the darkness stretching out until it was broken by the dim lights of the seemingly empty campsite.
Benny tilted his head, popping the joint quietly. “Well, I reckon we should get a little sleep, then see what’s ahead on the road in the morning, hmm?”
Dean glanced down at him, trying to guard against the hope that bubbled up in his chest. “You’re not gonna kick me out?”
That made Benny chuckle, dropping his hands to rest on Dean’s thighs and stroking slowly, tantalizingly up his sides, over his chest, and up still higher to tangle back into his short hair. “You wantin’ to take off?”
Dean shook his head, smiling when Benny’s hands remained firm, and the motion tugged on his head faintly, sending sparks of sharp pleasure shooting through his scalp. “Not even a little.” He took a deep breath. “But if I keep driving with you, I’m gonna owe you a lot more.”
There was a mischievous glint in his eye that he knew would reassure Benny of just how much he didn’t mind that possibility.
The other man grinned widely, tugging him down for another all-consuming, messy kiss, leaving Dean utterly short of breath when he drew back a few inches, breathing his reply against Dean’s mouth. “How ‘bout you just keep on tradin’ me a ride for a ride as we go along, then?” he proposed, and Dean settled for indicating his approval of that idea with more interesting methods than speech.