Disclaimer: Not mines. :(

Author: Winchester Baby

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairings: Sam and Dean

Summary: The boys have been dating for a while now, but have decided to keep their relationship a secret in public. One night, while meeting with someone involved in one of their many cases for dinner, Dean and Sam get a little handsy under that table, then take it back to their motel room to finish what they started thoroughly... in the shower. **WINCEST** **TWO-SHOT** Jealous!Dean

Rating: M

A Secret Seduction

3rd Person POV:

They'd been secretly dating for a few months now, making sure to only to hold hands in the confines of their motel rooms.

It was hard for them to keep it a secret, but in all honesty it added spark, passion, intensity, and adrenaline.

Dean's rage and possessive tendencies showed through when he couldn't claim that Sam was his in front of others who were a little too flirtatious for his liking.

Sam's jealousy and anger flared when he saw the way others eyed his Dean.

Although it was frustrating for the boys, they always knew that at the end of the night it would be just them curled up on their dingy motel bed.

They realized they could be public if they were careful, but their paranoia was too intense. Demons talk, people talk, hunters talk, and if anyone were to see them hold hands, chastely kiss, or inconspicuously touch it could ruin them. It could even further so make them a target – expose another weakness the boys held.

So, they continued with their hidden after-hours agenda.

Tonight they were in their monkey-suits attending a fancy dinner, collecting information on their most recent case.

The woman they were interviewing was obviously interested in Sam. Dean, knowing that in order to obtain the much needed information for the case Sam would have to flirt back, grew antsy. His leg bounced ferociously as his fist clenched and unclenched.

He kept repeating to himself 'right now he's your brother. Just your brother' trying to restrain himself from yelling at the woman.

Dean was the possessive type, but he wasn't good with words or feelings. He knew Sammy could read him like an open book making it redundant for him to speak anyways but he knew Sam wanted to hear him say it, say how he felt, just so he could hear it. Dean wanted to, he just didn't know how.

But as his anger grew the words jostled inside him, eager to escape.

So...Dean decided to play a little game.

Sam and Dean sat across from the woman in a booth, secluded and dark in the farthest corner of the faintly lit room. A dim light hung above them and one small scented candle sat in the middle of the table.

Dean and Sam tried not to touch in public – too risky – and it wouldn't be enjoyable if every second of it they were watching someone else, scanning the room to make sure no one saw.

But, in this faint room that was 80% darkness, Dean couldn't help it.

No one could see them, he knew, so Dean smirked, a plan forming in his head and he bounced his leg harder, waiting for the right time to execute his idea.

The right time came and his leg came to a halt. He slowly slid his hand across the foot of dark red leather that separated him and his lover. His fingertips finally brushed Sam's cloth covered thigh.

Sam, inaudibly and discreetly, gasped.

Dean smirked again. He began to stroke his fingers up and down Sam's thigh, slowly, faintly, tantalizingly.

As the unsuspecting woman continued to talk, unaware of the two 'brothers' current position, Dean snuck his hand around Sam's back to un-tuck his dress shirt from his pants.

Dean wasn't going to be mean and try to full on arouse his lover, but he just wanted to feel Sam and remind him that he was still here and that Sam was still his.

The feel of Dean's simple and subtle touches made Sam anxious and ready for what night would most definitely bring.

Sam, as quietly, slowly, and sneakily as possible, inched closer to his Dean, making sure it went unnoticed by Miss. Amanda – the nice woman who had a thing for him.

While the boys eyes stayed glued to the woman speaking to them, they continued to enjoy the pleasure of the others touch.

They continued to make noises and speak at appropriate times so that they still seemed interested because as of now, Miss. Amanda talked only of herself and not the case. But, in order to receive the latter they had to suffer through her babbling.

Dean's hand palmed Sam's now bare back.

Sam continued to fidget and inaudibly gasp. He finally reached behind him to grab Dean's hand and entwine their fingers.

Dean gave Sam's hand a light squeeze.

Dean began to draw shapes and letters on Sam's thigh once his and Sam's hands had let go of each other.

It amused Dean to no end that Ms. Amanda was absolutely unaware of what was happening mere feet away.

Dean was thinking to himself as he traced random patterns on his brother's thigh...

He traced an 'I' on Sam's thigh and Sam lightly kicked Dean under the table, his signal to show Dean that he understood him.

'L' 'O' 'V' 'E'

Sam stiffened.

'Y' 'O' 'U' Dean finally traced. Sam smiled to himself.

This was the most romantic Dean had ever been, and probably ever will be.

Amanda was so blissfully oblivious.

"So, Sam," She finally said, drawing the attention of both Winchester's. "You got a special lady?" She asked.

Way to be inconspicuous, whore. Dean thought.

"Uh, no I don't have a special, uh lady." Dean and Sam had to stifle a laugh.

No, not a lady. Definitely not a lady... Sam thought.

Amanda just smiled as if she had won something. "Oh, so sorry to hear." She said with no empathy.

"Yeah. So anyways, about the case, I must ask, did your sister have any... enemies? Or anyone who'd want to possibly hurt her in any way?" Sam asked.

And Dean totally ignored them as they began to talk about the case.

He continued to touch all over. Innocent touches – nothing too racy.

Dean continued to stroke the soft warm skin of Sam's back.

Then Sam couldn't help it.

His hand reached out to grab Dean's hip. He gave it a firm squeeze before his fingers dipped into the waistband and trailed their way back to skim Dean's own back.

They sat there, touching and rubbing and stroking, all while Sam kept a good... 40% of his attention on Amanda.

He had already acquired all the information he needed. Now she was, once again, rambling about herself.

"Alright, well, we need to be heading back. Thank you for your time, Ms. Amanda." Dean smiled and stretched out his hand as he stood.

Sam quickly tucked his shirt back in and straightened himself out, noticing Dean had already done so.

"No problem."

"Goodbye." Sam said, and shook her hand. Dean began to head out, with Sam behind him. Sam was stopped by someone putting something in his jacket pocket.

"Call me." Amanda whispered in his ear.

Sam quickly walked after Dean and finally entered the car.

"What held ya?" Dean asked as he began to drive.

Sam reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a napkin and read it.

"555-324-7111. Call me, Amanda. XOXO." Sam read.

Dean and Sam kinda just laughed. Dean knew that Sam knew who he belonged to, and it comforted him knowing that while they talked to the, admittedly attractive, woman, Sam had only found pleasure in touching Dean.

Dean grabbed the napkin and threw it out the window, causing both boys to laugh.

Sam scooted over so that he could tuck himself under Dean's arm while he drove.

They finally made it to the motel and Dean began to walk to the shower, Sam watching him with every step he took.

With every step, Dean lost an item of clothing.

Kicked off his shoes, tore off his socks, ripped off his shirt, whipped off his belt, and slithered out of his jeans.

Bye the time he reached the bathroom he stood in only his boxers.

He stood in the doorway and looked back at the mesmerized Sam staring at him.

"You coming?" Dean asked.