Supernatural, Dean à Metallicar, reunited -- "Humpty Dumpty"
__________________________________
"Humpty Dumpty"
Dean's fingers trail lightly over the dashboard. He looks at his fingers like a white-glove tester. Not a single speck there this time. That ArmorAll shit works great. He rubs the dash again, feels the fine bumps in the surface with the pads of his fingers. His other hand is also busy, jammed down inside the front of his 501 blues. He's tempted for a second to unzip, but it just feels too damn good like this, his hand wedged tight in his jeans. Squeezing his dick. Groping his balls. Teasing his hole until things get too snug for him to reach that far back in his pants.
He's real glad to have the car back. He'd missed her a lot. Now that she's all put back together again—all the king's horses, all the king's men—Dean thinks it's only right to give her a proper welcome home. His fingers are wet, the ones in his jeans. The others are dust-free and dry. He runs them along the curve of her steering wheel, dirty fingernails digging into the new leather wrap.
"That's my girl," Dean coos to her. Heat rises to his cheeks. His lips are dry. His dick is begging for relief. But he's not done welcoming her home. Close, real close, but not yet.
Dean shifts his ass on the new bench seat. He grins at the thought that they'll have to christen it as soon as they get the chance. Him and Sam. A lot of good memories got tossed out with the old interior in the form of questionable stains.
Dean's breath stutters in his chest. His legs sprawl wider, right knee bumping the console hump, left knee bumping the door. He smells like coolant, motor oil, sweat, and that goes right to his dick. "Yeah, baby," Dean says, tongue dragging his bottom lip, "fixed you up real nice, girl, didn't I? New headers." Dean fondles his balls. "New plugs." His hand moves quicker, squeezes harder around his dick. "New rims." Dean moans. "And I know you loved that lube job, baby." A dark blue spot spreads just below the waistband on the front of his jeans. "Oh, fuck yeah, baby girl."
Dean's neck goes limp, his head falling back to lie on the top of the backrest. He grips his cock harder, his index finger digging in just under the head at that little 'v' spot that feels so nice. The wet spot gets bigger, cock thicker, balls tighter, and Dean's gaze lands on the rear view. His own eyes don't gaze back. Dean's heart pounds wildly, his breaths sharp and thready as he comes hard in his pants and moans Sammy.