Fic: Honey (3/3)
Jan. 5th, 2007 01:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aeroport_artTitle: Honey (3/3)
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aeroport_art
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Season 1 spoilers, but only if you read between the lines. (Sort of) non-con, UST.
Word Count: 5,611
Disclaimer: Do I look like I'm making money from this? Yeah, I didn't think so.
Notes: Smut and angsty schmoop! I hope you guys enjoyed this fic and as usual, feedback = luff. Beta-ed by the wonderfulmooyoo, thanks for being such so prompt and awesome like that XD *smoochies*
Summary: Sam harbors a secret desire for his older brother. When Dean is hit with demon-aphrodasiac, Sam has to decide whether or not he should take advantage of his big brother.
Part 1
Part 2
Sam had everything figured out in his head. This is what would happen:
Sam would wake up the next morning and begin seducing his older brother. The morning would start with smoky gazes over black sludge coffee, continuing through the afternoon with not-so-subtle touches over newspapers and research. Early evening would see Sam’s admission of lifelong lust at which Dean could do naught but comply with, and the night would end with the hottest orgasm of Sam’s twenty-some years.
Sam had everything figured out in his head, but this is what really happened:
Sam woke up the next morning and Dean was gone.
He rubbed his eyes and fumbled for the nightstand, where his cell phone lay blinking. 12:14 PM, what the fuck was it with Dean not waking him up anymore? He pressed the speed-dial.
“Dean, where the fuck are you?”
“Morning, sunshine. I’m about twenty miles out of Woodside, working, unlike some people.”
“Shut up, I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“That’s not what your snoring said.”
Sam was not awake enough for this… damn it. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Get your ass over here, I’ll text you the address and fill you in when you’re here.”
“Wait—“
Silence. Sam groaned unhappily and tossed the phone back, missing the nightstand by a good six inches as the Blackberry bounced harmlessly onto the nubbled carpet.
He ended up walk-jogging the distance, seeing as how nobody was prone to picking up a six-foot tall man with a grimace on his face like he’d just as soon as murder you as say “thanks for the ride”. But it wasn’t so terrible; a bagel and coffee accompanied the journey and by the time Sam got to the address, he was fully awake and had smoothed the slight hiccup of a wasted morning out of his plan.
“Took you long enough,” Dean hissed as his younger brother approached. He turned back to the couple in front of him. “Mr. Grenn, Mrs. Grenn, this is my partner ah—“
“Brian Slade,” Sam cut in, holding up the appropriate card. “Excuse me, can I borrow my partner for a bit?” The old couple nodded agreeably and Sam leaned in to his brother’s side, touching his back to guide him away.
Dean froze like Sam had pressed the nozzle of a gun to his lower back. Sam sighed and pulled his hand back. Right. Smoky eyes first, then the touching. I can do this.
Dean, as per your average Winchester, covered up his anxiety by acting like an asshole. “It’s fucking two o’ clock already, were you curling your hair or something?”
“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Nightmares?”
“No.”
Dean stilled. “…Oh.”
Visibly uncomfortable now, the older brother shifted his weight and cast his eyes around, settling on the Grenns who gaily waved at him. This wasn’t helping Sam’s case, who was determinedly gazing at Dean’s face with as sultry an expression he could muster, but the idiot wasn’t even looking.
“Dean—“ he tried, but Dean only shoved his hands into his jacket and tromped back, posture tight and uneasy.
Great.
Sam hurried to follow his brother who was busy assuring the Grenns that their rodent problem would be taken care of by days’ end.
Luckily, the job was as easy as predicted. The pagan god and his army of vermin were vanquished within hours and by sunset, the brothers were already on their way back to Woodside.
Finally, Sam thought. He’d had a hell of a time that day trying to make eyes at his older brother, who had spent the afternoon either completely avoiding his gaze or looking at Sam in abject horror. And the touching hadn’t progressed either; not unless you counted gripping a guy’s wrist to pull him out of a festering sewer as flirtation.
Alright, so Sam’s plan wasn’t going as well as expected. But things were looking up. A job neatly wrapped up by dinnertime, and now a good thirty-minute car ride lay before him, plus the entirety of an evening was stretched out and primed for Sam to crack into later.
He licked his lips and turned away from the blurring landscape outside the window. This is just like a case; hold your ground, show some evidence, throw a little guilt in and you’ve got yourself a winner. “Dean—“
“What,” the older brother curtly said, anticipating Sam’s attempt at conversation.
“I know why you’re upset.” Dean’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Do you.”
“About that night, when we… you know,” Sam stuttered as Dean’s eyes darkened.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Sam.”
“But you’re worked up over nothing, I swear!”
“Nothing? You call me…” Dean’s hand slipped and the car tilted out of its path, quickly dipping back in as he steadied his grip. “Don’t pretend like you’re fine, Sammy. There is no fucking way you could be fine after… that.”
“But Dean, I’m trying to explain here,” Sam maintained, disturbed at the familiar way that Dean’s jaw clenched. Flashes of their father sneaked up; stubborn as a mule, the two older Winchesters could be equally unyielding, equally frustrating. Sam’s arguments with John hadn’t died with the man— instead he found himself going through the motions with Dean.
But as similar as the situations may have seemed, this was different. This wasn’t Sam wanting a normal life, this wasn’t Sam wanting more than the hunt. This was Dean, and Sam, and if they couldn’t piece together the scraps of what made the brothers whole, then everything else could go to shit. Sam had to make Dean see.
“Dean, I want you,” Sam blurted. Ohmotherfuck what did I just say?
Dean’s hands clenched so tightly that points of pale white twinkled from his knuckles.
“You don’t know what you’re messing with, Sammy.”
“But Dean,” Sam whined. Hearing the desperate pitch in his own voice, he tried again. “Dean, I do know. I did a little research—”
Dean snorted. Sam ignored it (very graciously, he thought) and continued, “I did some research on the Mohrashty. It turns out the purple stuff wasn’t poisonous, it actually works as a sort of hormone enhancer—Dean, are you even listening?”
“No,” Dean shot back. He turned to look at Sam, really look at him, and the fear in his wide eyes twisted in Sam’s chest. “Sam, I’m serious. Back the fuck off.”
The fear was so palpable that Sam could feel it shaking off the older brother’s body in waves of heat. Dean was hanging by a thread, only a thin façade of control to save face, but the clear sheen that glistened from his crystal-green eyes scared Sam to the bone.
“But Dean,” he said, the words barely hovering in front of his lips. “I want you too.” Sam lowered his eyes.
Dean suddenly wrenched the Impala into the concrete-cracked lot of the motel and slammed to a halt, the boys’ bodies jerking against their seatbelts. The ensuing silence was deafening. Sam swore he could hear the dust settle.
“Did you ever stop to think,” Dean unexpectedly said, voice wavering on every vowel. He cleared his throat. “Did you ever think that maybe you don’t really feel like that?”
Sam stopped rubbing his collarbone and turned to look at his brother.
“Venom is an anesthetic; you’re numb to the pain when you die. Same with mosquito saliva; you don’t feel them sucking your blood.” Dean’s fingers idly traced the bottom of the steering wheel. “It’s how it works, Sam. The victim is drugged, so that the aggressor can take what it wants. Did you ever stop to think?”
“But Dean. I’ve felt like this for years—”
“Have you?” Pools of liquid shyly grew in the shallow of Dean’s eyes and Sam’s throat caught. “Because if running off to Stanford, Jessica, if that’s your way of showing affection—“ he said unsteadily, sarcasm rolling off his tongue. “Don’t do this to me, Sammy. Just, don’t. Please.”
A beat passed before Dean angrily scrubbed a hand over his wet-tracked cheek and sniffed loudly, turning the engine off. He pulled the key out, kicked the car door open, and sauntered away towards downtown.
Sitting alone in the car, Sam thought, That could have gone better. He spotted a stray rat entrail on his pant cuff and frowned, shaking it off as he stepped out of the low seat.
-----
Dean didn’t come back until late, very late. Sam had stayed up as long as he could but by the time the sky began to pale, he’d slipped out of the motel chair and onto the carpet, curled up into an unconscious, shivering ball.
It wasn’t the loud slamming of the door that woke Sam up. It wasn’t even the giggling or the sharp heel that tripped against his naked feet.
“Hey, wait,” Dean said in a loud whisper. He pulled his arm from around the girl’s waist and stepped over his little brother to the bed, struggling as he stripped the tucked-under blanket from under the mattress.
“Why is he on the floor?” she asked, chuckling at her own question. Dean ignored her, bent down and covered Sam up with the felt blanket.
It was the brush of Dean’s ice-cold fingers against his neck that woke Sam up. His eyes shot open and captured Dean’s, who looked guilty as a robber caught red-handed. A girl’s voice drunkenly trilled Dean’s name.
You should be, Sam thought angrily as Dean bit his lip. You should be.
But Dean only stood back up and stumbled over long legs before he cupped his cold hands against the ass of the girl he’d brought back. She squealed and slapped them away, oblivious to the psychic murder Sam was attempting from the ground.
This wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to endure the sounds of slick, drunken noises and ill-concealed giggles. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to bite his knuckles raw to stave of the arousal, had to keep his green-tinted distress from exploding because guys shouldn’t care this much that their older brothers were getting laid. Sam had been doing this for years, and he’d always been able to contain himself.
But at the sound of a heavy weight (two heavy weights, he corrected himself) hitting the mattress, Sam’s resolve wavered. The hum of zipper teeth pulling apart saw Sam clenching his fists so hard he’d torn holes into the flimsy blanket. A feminine moan echoed through the room and Sam nearly bit his tongue through but it took one word, a breathy Yeah that rumbled from Dean’s lungs straight into Sam’s dick to snap his restraint into little twigs. Sam furiously got up, threw the blanket down and stalked over to the occupied bed.
The redheaded girl yelped as a shadow fell over them and pulled at the blanket, covering her nudity. Dean looked up, his expression a dark mix of haughtiness and remorse. Sam may have been tall normally, but in his fury he felt himself tower over the two figures who were culpably entwined in blankets and pieces of clothing.
“Out, now,” he growled, his voice scratched thin from the cold and fitful sleep. The girl quickly recovered from her surprise and sat up, about to mouth a retort when Dean touched her naked back (at which Sam saw red), stopping her.
“Maybe you should go,” Dean said quietly. She threw a shocked look at Dean, waiting for the punch line until it was clear none was forthcoming. She muttered something along the lines of “—two of you are fucked up” but to his credit, Dean didn’t even flinch, instead worriedly watched for the fury to dissipate from Sam’s shaking posture.
Only when the girl had deftly dressed and staggered out of the room, whiskey clinging in her wake, did Sam let the anger ebb.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sam said. Dean had the decency to look abashed as he reached above his pillow to grab his discarded T-shirt.
The tepid daylight peeking through the brocade curtains covered Dean in a swath of monochrome light, and Sam swallowed hard at the sight of hard-earned muscles and skin-tightened scars. Dean collected the shirt and brought his arms back down, opening the hem up to put over his head.
“No, don’t,” Sam breathed. Dean paused, cautiously meeting his brother’s indecipherable gaze. Sam moved forward.
He reached the bed and watched Dean fight through a leaden haze of liquor shots, his head dropping down before sluggishly tipping back up.
Don’t do this, Sam heard in his head, but he told it to fuck off.
“Get back under the covers, Dean,” Sam said, noting the goose bumps sprinkled over tanned skin and the way his brother’s dark nipples stood at attention from the brisk temperature. Dean gratefully obliged and burrowed underneath, then rolled over onto his side.
Sam pulled off his hooded sweatshirt. He undid the top six buttons of his collared shirt and yanked the rest over his head, shivering at the chill.
“Sammy?” Dean sleepily asked. “What are you doing?”
The telltale jangle of metal answered Dean’s question as Sam pulled his belt out of its clasp.
“Oh,” Dean breathed, face hot. When Sam had stepped out of his jeans, he pulled the cover back and slowly pressed his chest against Dean’s back, relief flooding his senses at the feeling of heated flesh against his own cool skin.
“Dean,” he said. “God, Dean.” Sam drew his legs up, pushing insistently against the backs of Dean’s knees until the two were cradled together, Sam smoothing his palm up Dean’s thigh, hipbone, waist, and resting at Dean’s heart-thudding chest.
“Sam,” the older brother said uncertainly, heavy lids falling shut.
“For how long, Dean?” Sam lightly traced the shell of Dean’s ear with unmoving lips. Dean made a tiny noise. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Don’t do this,” Dean said incoherently. “Don’t… do things you’ll take back, Sammy.“ Sam ducked down and nipped at Dean’s shoulder.
“I told you, Dean. It’s me talking, and I’m telling you,” he mouthed into Dean’s bicep. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“I—” Dean faltered as Sam bit at strong muscle. “I don’t believe you. I would have noticed Sam.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Sam replied, frowning at how hard even an inebriated Dean resisted. “I made sure you didn’t find out.”
Dean snorted disbelievingly.
“Did you ever stay awake and listen to me touch myself, Dean?”
“Sam…”
“Didn’t you ever find it strange that I never actually looked at the magazines, or looked at the TV screen? They were just out there, waiting to be tripped over. I thought you were smarter than that, Dean. You should’ve known it was my front, Dean. It wasn’t the tits or the curves; you were what I saw. You’re the one that brought me off, whether you knew it or not. Every time you’ve heard me come, I was thinking of your skin, your mouth, your hands.”
Dean whimpered.
“I swear, Dean. You remember that pretty blonde, your freshman year?” The older brother shook his head. “That’s when I knew for sure. I went to find you at the high school, and I found you. I found you at the back of the school, getting your dick sucked by a girl with long hair and highlights, and she wasn’t very good because you kept tensing when she used her teeth, but when you came and called out her name, I thought, I could do it better.” Sam tightened his arm around Dean’s pliant body. “That’s when I knew I loved you too much.”
“Sammy.”
“Do you believe me yet, Dean?” Sam probed, huddling so close that he had almost enveloped the older brother completely. He rubbed his hard-on against the fabric of Dean’s boxer-briefs, tantalizing against the cleft of Dean’s ass.
Sam’s words had spun circles around Dean, and the older brother fought tenaciously to make sense of it all, though with difficulty as Sam’s hands and lips and—god—dick pulsed around him, warm and tempting.
There was something wrong with this, Dean knew. He just couldn’t quite recall at the moment, since Sam had slipped a wet-hot tongue into his ear and jolted him rigid.
“That’s it Dean, just let go,” Sam purred, lapping behind Dean’s ear. “I know you’re tired, so just give in.”
And damn it, Dean was tired. So fucking tired, of having to be the big brother all the time, of having to shoulder the responsibility of being a little too fucked up, even for a hunter. He was tired of emotions, the guilty yearning. And now Sammy was behind him, writhing like a doped up whore and whispering perfect promises of silky depths and come.
So, Dean made a decision. It may not have been the most prudent one, given his drunken state, but he was beyond giving a fuck.
He pushed at Sam’s vine-like limbs until the taller man relented and rolled off. Dean turned around to face him, whose face was bleak and hurt from the dismissal.
“Tell me, Sam.”
“What?”
Dean inched forward and placed a steady hand on Sam’s lower back, teasing the elastic band with his pinky.
“Tell me you want this.”
“Ohgod Dean,” the younger man choked. “I want it, I want it so bad—“
Dean pulled at his brother’s hips and pushed their tented erections together. Sam strangled a cry but was silenced by the sudden proximity of Dean’s plump lips to his own.
“Good,” Dean exhaled, hot breath blooming over Sam’s skin, before he nudged their lips together in a firm, but chaste kiss.
The scent and taste of alcohol flooded Sam’s senses before being nudged aside by the scrape of Dean’s stubble, the feel of Dean’s soft lips, Dean’s nose bumping his own. Sam must not have been breathing because when they finally pulled apart, he felt vertigo swing through his head. Dean’s face swam before him and all he knew was that he wanted more so he launched himself forward and shoved Dean into the mattress, dropping feathery kisses and little licks onto the bleary man as he clumsily climbed on.
“God Sammy,” Dean gasped. “So fucking—so fucking heavy—“
Sam snorted mid-suck and quickly wiped the saliva off of Dean’s neck. “Fine then, where do you want me?”
Dean’s eyes widened at the possibilities, before quickly shuttering up. “I—I don’t know,” he said, turning his face to the side.
“C’mon Dean, where do you want me?” Sam smiled impishly and leaned down to hotly whisper, “…or… how do you want me?”
“God, who taught you to talk like that?” Dean groaned as Sam chuckled in reply.
“Just tell me, Dean…,” Sam teased, scooting back until he was firmly seated on top of his brother’s erection, which peeked out from underneath the elastic of his black underpants. Sam licked his lips as he looked down, spying the tip prettily weeping a puddle onto Dean’s abdomen. “Tell me or I won’t touch you.”
“Stingy bitch.”
“Oh, not so much—“ Sam pressed the pad of his thumb against Dean’s slit, who jerked like he’d been shocked. “I just want to hear your mouth, Dean. I know how it can sound… wanna hear it again…”
Dean blushed a furious red as he recalled the multitude of things his drugged mouth had conjured during their previous… engagement.
“That didn’t count,” Dean protested. “I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“Uh huh,” Sam humored him. “If you don’t tell me what you want already, I’m gonna go and get myself off in the other bed.”
Dean froze. “Okay, okay, fine. Jeez. Just… uh. Um.”
“Yes?”
“On top. You, I mean. Fuck,” he slurred before starting over. “Sammy, I want you on top.”
“Already there, big brother.” Sam wiggled in place, eliciting another euphoric arch from the man beneath him. “What should I do while I’m up here?”
“I want you to… uhm,” Dean wavered, wondering to himself if this was all some alcohol-induced hallucination. He prayed to God he wasn’t superimposing Sammy on some random guy. “I want you to sit on my cock.”
“Oh yeah?”
Dean blushed and looked to the side. “You asked.”
Sam wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or to decline an invitation to ride his brother’s cock, for that matter. He sat on his haunches, pushed the last bit of clothing off his body and reached in to the opening of Dean’s underpants. He maneuvered the fabric around until Dean’s erection was sticking straight up from the slit, pubic hairs softly nested against the base but mostly hidden by black material.
God damn if Dean’s dick wasn’t the most beautiful thing Sam had ever seen. Not so long as Sam’s own but thicker and wider, as if made for rough, no holds barred romps. Sam swallowed thickly.
It wasn’t like he’d never seen Dean’s dick before. But this was the first time Sam had seen it head-on, and so close, so aroused he could see and smell Dean beading at the tip. The mole he’d sighted before seemed that much cuter now, a dark spot gently beating against satin-soft flesh.
“Sammy?,” Dean asked nervously. He reached down and tried to cover himself but Sam easily caught his wrists.
“God, Dean, do you know how fucking gorgeous you are?”
“Shu-th’fuck up,” he replied embarrassedly, trying to shake off the firm grip but Sam only dug his fingers in harder. He leaned forward and pinned Dean’s wrists into the comforter.
“You remember this, Dean?” Sam said, voice jagged. “Remember when you held me down?”
A flash of guilt darted across Dean’s face but Sam cut it short with a fierce suck to the side of his brother’s neck. He smiled when the skin turned pink, then blotchy with broken blood vessels.
“I loved it, Dean,” Sam quietly whispered. He tightened his hold, gradually pressed all of his weight onto Dean’s stretched torso, and sharply bit Dean’s ear.
Dean’s erection jerked against his inner thigh. Sam’s grin widened.
“Looks like I’m not the only one.”
“Shu—” Dean objected but Sam caught the half-formed words with a harsh, open-mouthed kiss. He kneaded Dean’s mouth with his own, forcing a tongue in and tried to lick the back of Dean’s throat. The older brother involuntarily curved up, seeking more skin, more heat, more Sam.
“Is this what you wanted, Dean?” Sam gleefully growled as he twisted his grip, Dean crying out at the Indian burn. “You wanted me on top so I could force you, didn’t you? Force you to—mmm… do all the dirty things you’ve always wanted, but were—ah— too scared to ask.”
“God, Sammy,” Dean wetly gasped. Adequately satisfied, Sam stopped teasing and started concentrating on the squirming body beneath him.
He began by scaling Dean’s chiseled chest, then turning around until he could sit on Dean’s face and comfortably taste his brother’s dick at the same time.
“You want to fuck me, you better get me ready,” he said, before reaching back and spreading his own cheeks.
At the sight of his younger brother’s puckered entrance, Dean’s cock twitched excitedly, slapping against Sam’s face and leaving a little splatter of clear fluid.
“Make me loose, Dean,” Sam ordered, hot breaths puffing against the shaft in front of him. “I don’t care how. Just get me ready for this big cock of yours.” He moved forward and suckled the weeping crown, swirling the slippery precum over the head of Dean’s dick.
Dean cursed loudly and was momentarily paralyzed at the sensation of Sam’s mouth, which crept down until the younger brother’s upper lip kissed the top of Dean’s balls. But when Sam reached back up and spread Dean’s thighs, massaging the muscle with large, capable hands, the older brother suddenly remembered his task.
Sam’s asshole. Get it loose. Right.
Dean cautiously parted the globes of Sam’s pale ass and licked a slow, unsteady stripe from his younger brother’s heavy-hanging balls, over his perineum and flicking into the dip of Sam’s hole.
Sam keened with a mouthful of cock and embedded his fingernails into Dean’s thighs so hard that for a split second, Dean thought against doing that again.
But then he looked up and there was Sammy’s hole again, wet and shiny and in need of some preparation. And who was Dean if not Sam’s ever-helpful older sibling? He pulled Sam’s cheeks apart and dove his tongue in, deep as it would go, wiggling and twisting to gain that all-important extra millimeter.
Sam went wild at the other end, drooling and sucking and swallowing like he’d win points for sheer noise. Dean thanked God for the potent alcohol in his system; had he been sober, Dean probably would’ve shot his load at just the sound of Sam’s slurping. As it was, he felt his engulfed dick flex in what was surely a couple squirts of precum, and then went back to eating out Sam’s ass.
After a few minutes of licking and stretching, Dean shoved his tongue between three deeply sunken fingers and the lip of Sam’s asshole. Sam let Dean’s right testicle drop from his mouth and cried out in ecstasy.
“Oh fuck Dean—Dean!! ” Face still buried against his brother’s squirming ass, Dean hummed a salutation at his name and Sam felt the tremor echo throughout his body in waves of ohfuckme.
So Sam propped himself up with both hands, roughly wrestled Dean’s boxer-briefs off of his thighs and calves, then lifted his ass up off of Dean’s face. Kicking off the underpants, the older brother whined in complaint and tried to keep his fingers in, even attempted to work his pinky into Sam’s dripping crevice but the younger brother resolutely removed the digits with a firm hand.
“Want you in me—“ Sam groaned as he turned around to face his brother again. He ducked down and wildly bit at Dean’s throat while gripping his brother’s hard on with a grip so tight that Dean’s dick was prevented from premature ejaculation. Which was just as well because if Sam hadn’t done so, the older brother would have been coming in copious, general spurts…on the outside of Sam’s asshole. And neither Winchester wanted that.
“God Sammy please—stop teasing me you ah—little bitch!!”
“M’not teasing you,” Sam said wickedly, moving his pelvis in little circles so that Dean’s penis shallowly rubbed at Sam’s sloppy, loosened entrance. The younger brother lowered himself down and inch or so, then rose back up with a twist of the hips.
“Fuck, Sammy, just fucking sit on my cock alrea—“ Dean nearly screamed, when Sam took pity, let the tension out of his legs, and sank down. With his brother buried inside of him.
Dean screamed.
Sam sighed blissfully, taking a moment to relish the sense of fullness before experimentally rocking forward. Pleasantly met with Dean’s drunken, babbled encouragement, Sam repeated the motion. Then did it again. And again, and again until he was well and truly riding Dean’s dick like a champion cowboy.
“Ah god, Sam!! !” Dean’s face scrunched up and Sam felt exactly how hard, how completely stiff his older brother had gone inside of him, and realized with awe Dean was about to come.
“Wait Dean—“ Sam cried, stilling himself half-impaled and reaching back to harshly squeeze Dean’s balls, but it was too late. He felt his brother buck beneath him, felt how tight Dean’s sac felt in his hand. Sinking back down in capitulation, Sam clenched his hole and rocked into Dean’s orgasm, prolonging the ride.
After nearly an eternity of shaking muscles and breathy nonsense, Sam slumped down, holding Dean’s trembling biceps down and mewling against his older brother’s damp neck.
“Ah, fuck,” Dean blearily swore. “M’sorry Sammy— so fucking tight…”
Sam smiled against his brother’s bobbing Adam’s apple. He felt the dick inside his ass relax, though still hard with blood. Viscous warmth languidly slid out from their joined bodies and Sam involuntarily clenched his ass again, trying to keep the semen in while Dean jumped from the over-sensation.
God, Sam wanted to be full of Dean, Dean’s sleepily softening dick, Dean’s freshly-made come, for-fucking-ever. He smoothed his palms up and down his brother’s calming arms.
“Wh-‘bout you?” Dean interjected Sam’s mushy thoughts. He skated an unsteady hand down Sam’s flank and slipped between their sweat-cooled bodies. Sam groaned as strong fingers encircled his still-hard flesh.
“C’mon Sammy, wanna get you off,” Dean said as he pushed at Sam’s shoulders, urging the younger man to sit up again. Dean’s penis slipped out from Sam’s hole and with it, a gush of body-heated come. Sam scooted up so that the torrent spread out over Dean’s lower belly instead of the motel bedcovers.
“Hey, that’s gross,” Dean griped as the thick fluid dribbled into his navel and down the sides of his hips.
“Stop whining,” Sam laughed as he wrapped his own hand around Dean’s unmoving one and forced a slow, steady pull of his dick.
“Oh yeah,” Dean breathed. He pumped his fist again in tandem with Sam’s, and the two of them jacked Sam’s cock in quick jerks that gradually picked up speed.
“I’m close Dean—“ Sam moaned, letting the heady aroma of Dean’s sex fill his nostrils like an aphrodisiac. He squeezed his fist harder around his brother’s as Dean took a little initiative and started twisting his wrist, making hot-slick-friction that burned a path through Sam’s body, clenching a grip around his chest and pulling the ache down to his groin.
At the sound of Dean’s whimper, Sam opened eyes he hadn’t realized were closed. He looked down and saw Dean biting his lip so hard, the worried flesh around his teeth were white with pressure. His brother’s dilated eyes were fixated on their joined hands, pumping a blue streak up and down Sam’s engorged flesh.
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean whispered, and at the small sound of his brother’s voice over slapping flesh, Sam crossed the brink.
Years of listening to Dean talk, swear, flirt, he’d spent years around his big brother’s familiar voice but Sam had never heard him quite like this. Had never heard the want ripped from Dean’s throat, had never heard him so uncontrollably quiet, like he would break in half from the intensity of it all. Sam heard Dean’s awe beat through his eardrums and fuck, he had never felt so wanted, so needed before.
“Dean,” he sobbed, and came.
Dean let go of his lower lip and dropped his head back against the mattress, arching into the shower of warm liquid that splattered over his torso, neck, face. He felt his body let go, like a second orgasm that exploded in his chest rather than groin. He felt Sam’s semen on his face and it felt like being blessed.
When Dean’s hand loosened over Sam’s twitching dick, Sam opened his eyes. His brother was fast asleep.
He wordlessly slipped off and clumsily padded to the bathroom to wet a hand towel. Walked back to the bed and looked at Dean, passed out and covered in two loads of come. Sam felt his throat close.
He gingerly wiped the sticky, cooled mess from Dean’s face and body and the older man groaned, rolling over onto his side before Sam could finish digging the towel into Dean’s belly button.
Sam tossed the laden towel onto the night stand and slid into bed behind Dean, wrapping his arms and legs around him to ensure that the older man couldn’t leave in the morning without his noticing. He inhaled Dean from the back of his brother’s neck, sighed contentedly, and fell asleep.
-----
Dean woke up. Groggily noted that there were arms and legs encasing him but that wouldn’t be a first, so he fought them loose and turned around to find out what face he’d see.
Sammy, hair in his face and lightly drooling. Wait, what?
“Oh, fuck no,” he whispered to himself. Tried to sneakily peel his younger brother’s limbs off but god damn it, Sam was firmly secured and really fucking heavy.
Sleepy, feline eyes blinked open. Dean stared back in panic.
“No,” Sam said, the word barely recognizable through hours of heavy slumber, and he pulled Dean forward into a morning kiss that was moist and unfocused.
Dean struggled at first, cursing himself for the weak son of a bitch he’d been last night, but then Sam crawled on top of him and pinned him down with a slow, demanding tongue.
“No,” Sam repeated.
Dean blinked at his younger brother’s face, so close and possessive with a hint of fear lingering behind the wrinkle of his forehead, and Dean decided that he could deal with the logistics later. Right now he had to smooth the unhappiness from his Sammy’s face.
He craned his neck up to brush his lips across Sam’s tightened ones, and nursed, gently, until the mouth on his relaxed. They slowly, leisurely, woke each other up with lingering kisses until Dean’s neck ached and he fell back against the pillow.
“You smell like day-old alcohol,” Sam said with a smile.
“Ah, fuck you,” Dean replied as Sam ducked down and nipped at the stubble on his brother’s chin.
Dean could deal with the logistics later. Much, much later because Sammy was kissing down Dean’s face, down his neck, and Dean sure as hell wasn’t about to miss out on where this was headed.
He curled a hand in little brother’s mussed up hair and felt Sam smile against his skin.
End.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Author:
aeroport_artRating: NC-17
Warnings: Season 1 spoilers, but only if you read between the lines. (Sort of) non-con, UST.
Word Count: 5,611
Disclaimer: Do I look like I'm making money from this? Yeah, I didn't think so.
Notes: Smut and angsty schmoop! I hope you guys enjoyed this fic and as usual, feedback = luff. Beta-ed by the wonderful
mooyoo, thanks for being such so prompt and awesome like that XD *smoochies*Summary: Sam harbors a secret desire for his older brother. When Dean is hit with demon-aphrodasiac, Sam has to decide whether or not he should take advantage of his big brother.
Part 1
Part 2
Sam had everything figured out in his head. This is what would happen:
Sam would wake up the next morning and begin seducing his older brother. The morning would start with smoky gazes over black sludge coffee, continuing through the afternoon with not-so-subtle touches over newspapers and research. Early evening would see Sam’s admission of lifelong lust at which Dean could do naught but comply with, and the night would end with the hottest orgasm of Sam’s twenty-some years.
Sam had everything figured out in his head, but this is what really happened:
Sam woke up the next morning and Dean was gone.
He rubbed his eyes and fumbled for the nightstand, where his cell phone lay blinking. 12:14 PM, what the fuck was it with Dean not waking him up anymore? He pressed the speed-dial.
“Dean, where the fuck are you?”
“Morning, sunshine. I’m about twenty miles out of Woodside, working, unlike some people.”
“Shut up, I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“That’s not what your snoring said.”
Sam was not awake enough for this… damn it. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Get your ass over here, I’ll text you the address and fill you in when you’re here.”
“Wait—“
Silence. Sam groaned unhappily and tossed the phone back, missing the nightstand by a good six inches as the Blackberry bounced harmlessly onto the nubbled carpet.
He ended up walk-jogging the distance, seeing as how nobody was prone to picking up a six-foot tall man with a grimace on his face like he’d just as soon as murder you as say “thanks for the ride”. But it wasn’t so terrible; a bagel and coffee accompanied the journey and by the time Sam got to the address, he was fully awake and had smoothed the slight hiccup of a wasted morning out of his plan.
“Took you long enough,” Dean hissed as his younger brother approached. He turned back to the couple in front of him. “Mr. Grenn, Mrs. Grenn, this is my partner ah—“
“Brian Slade,” Sam cut in, holding up the appropriate card. “Excuse me, can I borrow my partner for a bit?” The old couple nodded agreeably and Sam leaned in to his brother’s side, touching his back to guide him away.
Dean froze like Sam had pressed the nozzle of a gun to his lower back. Sam sighed and pulled his hand back. Right. Smoky eyes first, then the touching. I can do this.
Dean, as per your average Winchester, covered up his anxiety by acting like an asshole. “It’s fucking two o’ clock already, were you curling your hair or something?”
“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Nightmares?”
“No.”
Dean stilled. “…Oh.”
Visibly uncomfortable now, the older brother shifted his weight and cast his eyes around, settling on the Grenns who gaily waved at him. This wasn’t helping Sam’s case, who was determinedly gazing at Dean’s face with as sultry an expression he could muster, but the idiot wasn’t even looking.
“Dean—“ he tried, but Dean only shoved his hands into his jacket and tromped back, posture tight and uneasy.
Great.
Sam hurried to follow his brother who was busy assuring the Grenns that their rodent problem would be taken care of by days’ end.
Luckily, the job was as easy as predicted. The pagan god and his army of vermin were vanquished within hours and by sunset, the brothers were already on their way back to Woodside.
Finally, Sam thought. He’d had a hell of a time that day trying to make eyes at his older brother, who had spent the afternoon either completely avoiding his gaze or looking at Sam in abject horror. And the touching hadn’t progressed either; not unless you counted gripping a guy’s wrist to pull him out of a festering sewer as flirtation.
Alright, so Sam’s plan wasn’t going as well as expected. But things were looking up. A job neatly wrapped up by dinnertime, and now a good thirty-minute car ride lay before him, plus the entirety of an evening was stretched out and primed for Sam to crack into later.
He licked his lips and turned away from the blurring landscape outside the window. This is just like a case; hold your ground, show some evidence, throw a little guilt in and you’ve got yourself a winner. “Dean—“
“What,” the older brother curtly said, anticipating Sam’s attempt at conversation.
“I know why you’re upset.” Dean’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Do you.”
“About that night, when we… you know,” Sam stuttered as Dean’s eyes darkened.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Sam.”
“But you’re worked up over nothing, I swear!”
“Nothing? You call me…” Dean’s hand slipped and the car tilted out of its path, quickly dipping back in as he steadied his grip. “Don’t pretend like you’re fine, Sammy. There is no fucking way you could be fine after… that.”
“But Dean, I’m trying to explain here,” Sam maintained, disturbed at the familiar way that Dean’s jaw clenched. Flashes of their father sneaked up; stubborn as a mule, the two older Winchesters could be equally unyielding, equally frustrating. Sam’s arguments with John hadn’t died with the man— instead he found himself going through the motions with Dean.
But as similar as the situations may have seemed, this was different. This wasn’t Sam wanting a normal life, this wasn’t Sam wanting more than the hunt. This was Dean, and Sam, and if they couldn’t piece together the scraps of what made the brothers whole, then everything else could go to shit. Sam had to make Dean see.
“Dean, I want you,” Sam blurted. Ohmotherfuck what did I just say?
Dean’s hands clenched so tightly that points of pale white twinkled from his knuckles.
“You don’t know what you’re messing with, Sammy.”
“But Dean,” Sam whined. Hearing the desperate pitch in his own voice, he tried again. “Dean, I do know. I did a little research—”
Dean snorted. Sam ignored it (very graciously, he thought) and continued, “I did some research on the Mohrashty. It turns out the purple stuff wasn’t poisonous, it actually works as a sort of hormone enhancer—Dean, are you even listening?”
“No,” Dean shot back. He turned to look at Sam, really look at him, and the fear in his wide eyes twisted in Sam’s chest. “Sam, I’m serious. Back the fuck off.”
The fear was so palpable that Sam could feel it shaking off the older brother’s body in waves of heat. Dean was hanging by a thread, only a thin façade of control to save face, but the clear sheen that glistened from his crystal-green eyes scared Sam to the bone.
“But Dean,” he said, the words barely hovering in front of his lips. “I want you too.” Sam lowered his eyes.
Dean suddenly wrenched the Impala into the concrete-cracked lot of the motel and slammed to a halt, the boys’ bodies jerking against their seatbelts. The ensuing silence was deafening. Sam swore he could hear the dust settle.
“Did you ever stop to think,” Dean unexpectedly said, voice wavering on every vowel. He cleared his throat. “Did you ever think that maybe you don’t really feel like that?”
Sam stopped rubbing his collarbone and turned to look at his brother.
“Venom is an anesthetic; you’re numb to the pain when you die. Same with mosquito saliva; you don’t feel them sucking your blood.” Dean’s fingers idly traced the bottom of the steering wheel. “It’s how it works, Sam. The victim is drugged, so that the aggressor can take what it wants. Did you ever stop to think?”
“But Dean. I’ve felt like this for years—”
“Have you?” Pools of liquid shyly grew in the shallow of Dean’s eyes and Sam’s throat caught. “Because if running off to Stanford, Jessica, if that’s your way of showing affection—“ he said unsteadily, sarcasm rolling off his tongue. “Don’t do this to me, Sammy. Just, don’t. Please.”
A beat passed before Dean angrily scrubbed a hand over his wet-tracked cheek and sniffed loudly, turning the engine off. He pulled the key out, kicked the car door open, and sauntered away towards downtown.
Sitting alone in the car, Sam thought, That could have gone better. He spotted a stray rat entrail on his pant cuff and frowned, shaking it off as he stepped out of the low seat.
-----
Dean didn’t come back until late, very late. Sam had stayed up as long as he could but by the time the sky began to pale, he’d slipped out of the motel chair and onto the carpet, curled up into an unconscious, shivering ball.
It wasn’t the loud slamming of the door that woke Sam up. It wasn’t even the giggling or the sharp heel that tripped against his naked feet.
“Hey, wait,” Dean said in a loud whisper. He pulled his arm from around the girl’s waist and stepped over his little brother to the bed, struggling as he stripped the tucked-under blanket from under the mattress.
“Why is he on the floor?” she asked, chuckling at her own question. Dean ignored her, bent down and covered Sam up with the felt blanket.
It was the brush of Dean’s ice-cold fingers against his neck that woke Sam up. His eyes shot open and captured Dean’s, who looked guilty as a robber caught red-handed. A girl’s voice drunkenly trilled Dean’s name.
You should be, Sam thought angrily as Dean bit his lip. You should be.
But Dean only stood back up and stumbled over long legs before he cupped his cold hands against the ass of the girl he’d brought back. She squealed and slapped them away, oblivious to the psychic murder Sam was attempting from the ground.
This wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to endure the sounds of slick, drunken noises and ill-concealed giggles. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to bite his knuckles raw to stave of the arousal, had to keep his green-tinted distress from exploding because guys shouldn’t care this much that their older brothers were getting laid. Sam had been doing this for years, and he’d always been able to contain himself.
But at the sound of a heavy weight (two heavy weights, he corrected himself) hitting the mattress, Sam’s resolve wavered. The hum of zipper teeth pulling apart saw Sam clenching his fists so hard he’d torn holes into the flimsy blanket. A feminine moan echoed through the room and Sam nearly bit his tongue through but it took one word, a breathy Yeah that rumbled from Dean’s lungs straight into Sam’s dick to snap his restraint into little twigs. Sam furiously got up, threw the blanket down and stalked over to the occupied bed.
The redheaded girl yelped as a shadow fell over them and pulled at the blanket, covering her nudity. Dean looked up, his expression a dark mix of haughtiness and remorse. Sam may have been tall normally, but in his fury he felt himself tower over the two figures who were culpably entwined in blankets and pieces of clothing.
“Out, now,” he growled, his voice scratched thin from the cold and fitful sleep. The girl quickly recovered from her surprise and sat up, about to mouth a retort when Dean touched her naked back (at which Sam saw red), stopping her.
“Maybe you should go,” Dean said quietly. She threw a shocked look at Dean, waiting for the punch line until it was clear none was forthcoming. She muttered something along the lines of “—two of you are fucked up” but to his credit, Dean didn’t even flinch, instead worriedly watched for the fury to dissipate from Sam’s shaking posture.
Only when the girl had deftly dressed and staggered out of the room, whiskey clinging in her wake, did Sam let the anger ebb.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sam said. Dean had the decency to look abashed as he reached above his pillow to grab his discarded T-shirt.
The tepid daylight peeking through the brocade curtains covered Dean in a swath of monochrome light, and Sam swallowed hard at the sight of hard-earned muscles and skin-tightened scars. Dean collected the shirt and brought his arms back down, opening the hem up to put over his head.
“No, don’t,” Sam breathed. Dean paused, cautiously meeting his brother’s indecipherable gaze. Sam moved forward.
He reached the bed and watched Dean fight through a leaden haze of liquor shots, his head dropping down before sluggishly tipping back up.
Don’t do this, Sam heard in his head, but he told it to fuck off.
“Get back under the covers, Dean,” Sam said, noting the goose bumps sprinkled over tanned skin and the way his brother’s dark nipples stood at attention from the brisk temperature. Dean gratefully obliged and burrowed underneath, then rolled over onto his side.
Sam pulled off his hooded sweatshirt. He undid the top six buttons of his collared shirt and yanked the rest over his head, shivering at the chill.
“Sammy?” Dean sleepily asked. “What are you doing?”
The telltale jangle of metal answered Dean’s question as Sam pulled his belt out of its clasp.
“Oh,” Dean breathed, face hot. When Sam had stepped out of his jeans, he pulled the cover back and slowly pressed his chest against Dean’s back, relief flooding his senses at the feeling of heated flesh against his own cool skin.
“Dean,” he said. “God, Dean.” Sam drew his legs up, pushing insistently against the backs of Dean’s knees until the two were cradled together, Sam smoothing his palm up Dean’s thigh, hipbone, waist, and resting at Dean’s heart-thudding chest.
“Sam,” the older brother said uncertainly, heavy lids falling shut.
“For how long, Dean?” Sam lightly traced the shell of Dean’s ear with unmoving lips. Dean made a tiny noise. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Don’t do this,” Dean said incoherently. “Don’t… do things you’ll take back, Sammy.“ Sam ducked down and nipped at Dean’s shoulder.
“I told you, Dean. It’s me talking, and I’m telling you,” he mouthed into Dean’s bicep. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“I—” Dean faltered as Sam bit at strong muscle. “I don’t believe you. I would have noticed Sam.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Sam replied, frowning at how hard even an inebriated Dean resisted. “I made sure you didn’t find out.”
Dean snorted disbelievingly.
“Did you ever stay awake and listen to me touch myself, Dean?”
“Sam…”
“Didn’t you ever find it strange that I never actually looked at the magazines, or looked at the TV screen? They were just out there, waiting to be tripped over. I thought you were smarter than that, Dean. You should’ve known it was my front, Dean. It wasn’t the tits or the curves; you were what I saw. You’re the one that brought me off, whether you knew it or not. Every time you’ve heard me come, I was thinking of your skin, your mouth, your hands.”
Dean whimpered.
“I swear, Dean. You remember that pretty blonde, your freshman year?” The older brother shook his head. “That’s when I knew for sure. I went to find you at the high school, and I found you. I found you at the back of the school, getting your dick sucked by a girl with long hair and highlights, and she wasn’t very good because you kept tensing when she used her teeth, but when you came and called out her name, I thought, I could do it better.” Sam tightened his arm around Dean’s pliant body. “That’s when I knew I loved you too much.”
“Sammy.”
“Do you believe me yet, Dean?” Sam probed, huddling so close that he had almost enveloped the older brother completely. He rubbed his hard-on against the fabric of Dean’s boxer-briefs, tantalizing against the cleft of Dean’s ass.
Sam’s words had spun circles around Dean, and the older brother fought tenaciously to make sense of it all, though with difficulty as Sam’s hands and lips and—god—dick pulsed around him, warm and tempting.
There was something wrong with this, Dean knew. He just couldn’t quite recall at the moment, since Sam had slipped a wet-hot tongue into his ear and jolted him rigid.
“That’s it Dean, just let go,” Sam purred, lapping behind Dean’s ear. “I know you’re tired, so just give in.”
And damn it, Dean was tired. So fucking tired, of having to be the big brother all the time, of having to shoulder the responsibility of being a little too fucked up, even for a hunter. He was tired of emotions, the guilty yearning. And now Sammy was behind him, writhing like a doped up whore and whispering perfect promises of silky depths and come.
So, Dean made a decision. It may not have been the most prudent one, given his drunken state, but he was beyond giving a fuck.
He pushed at Sam’s vine-like limbs until the taller man relented and rolled off. Dean turned around to face him, whose face was bleak and hurt from the dismissal.
“Tell me, Sam.”
“What?”
Dean inched forward and placed a steady hand on Sam’s lower back, teasing the elastic band with his pinky.
“Tell me you want this.”
“Ohgod Dean,” the younger man choked. “I want it, I want it so bad—“
Dean pulled at his brother’s hips and pushed their tented erections together. Sam strangled a cry but was silenced by the sudden proximity of Dean’s plump lips to his own.
“Good,” Dean exhaled, hot breath blooming over Sam’s skin, before he nudged their lips together in a firm, but chaste kiss.
The scent and taste of alcohol flooded Sam’s senses before being nudged aside by the scrape of Dean’s stubble, the feel of Dean’s soft lips, Dean’s nose bumping his own. Sam must not have been breathing because when they finally pulled apart, he felt vertigo swing through his head. Dean’s face swam before him and all he knew was that he wanted more so he launched himself forward and shoved Dean into the mattress, dropping feathery kisses and little licks onto the bleary man as he clumsily climbed on.
“God Sammy,” Dean gasped. “So fucking—so fucking heavy—“
Sam snorted mid-suck and quickly wiped the saliva off of Dean’s neck. “Fine then, where do you want me?”
Dean’s eyes widened at the possibilities, before quickly shuttering up. “I—I don’t know,” he said, turning his face to the side.
“C’mon Dean, where do you want me?” Sam smiled impishly and leaned down to hotly whisper, “…or… how do you want me?”
“God, who taught you to talk like that?” Dean groaned as Sam chuckled in reply.
“Just tell me, Dean…,” Sam teased, scooting back until he was firmly seated on top of his brother’s erection, which peeked out from underneath the elastic of his black underpants. Sam licked his lips as he looked down, spying the tip prettily weeping a puddle onto Dean’s abdomen. “Tell me or I won’t touch you.”
“Stingy bitch.”
“Oh, not so much—“ Sam pressed the pad of his thumb against Dean’s slit, who jerked like he’d been shocked. “I just want to hear your mouth, Dean. I know how it can sound… wanna hear it again…”
Dean blushed a furious red as he recalled the multitude of things his drugged mouth had conjured during their previous… engagement.
“That didn’t count,” Dean protested. “I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“Uh huh,” Sam humored him. “If you don’t tell me what you want already, I’m gonna go and get myself off in the other bed.”
Dean froze. “Okay, okay, fine. Jeez. Just… uh. Um.”
“Yes?”
“On top. You, I mean. Fuck,” he slurred before starting over. “Sammy, I want you on top.”
“Already there, big brother.” Sam wiggled in place, eliciting another euphoric arch from the man beneath him. “What should I do while I’m up here?”
“I want you to… uhm,” Dean wavered, wondering to himself if this was all some alcohol-induced hallucination. He prayed to God he wasn’t superimposing Sammy on some random guy. “I want you to sit on my cock.”
“Oh yeah?”
Dean blushed and looked to the side. “You asked.”
Sam wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or to decline an invitation to ride his brother’s cock, for that matter. He sat on his haunches, pushed the last bit of clothing off his body and reached in to the opening of Dean’s underpants. He maneuvered the fabric around until Dean’s erection was sticking straight up from the slit, pubic hairs softly nested against the base but mostly hidden by black material.
God damn if Dean’s dick wasn’t the most beautiful thing Sam had ever seen. Not so long as Sam’s own but thicker and wider, as if made for rough, no holds barred romps. Sam swallowed thickly.
It wasn’t like he’d never seen Dean’s dick before. But this was the first time Sam had seen it head-on, and so close, so aroused he could see and smell Dean beading at the tip. The mole he’d sighted before seemed that much cuter now, a dark spot gently beating against satin-soft flesh.
“Sammy?,” Dean asked nervously. He reached down and tried to cover himself but Sam easily caught his wrists.
“God, Dean, do you know how fucking gorgeous you are?”
“Shu-th’fuck up,” he replied embarrassedly, trying to shake off the firm grip but Sam only dug his fingers in harder. He leaned forward and pinned Dean’s wrists into the comforter.
“You remember this, Dean?” Sam said, voice jagged. “Remember when you held me down?”
A flash of guilt darted across Dean’s face but Sam cut it short with a fierce suck to the side of his brother’s neck. He smiled when the skin turned pink, then blotchy with broken blood vessels.
“I loved it, Dean,” Sam quietly whispered. He tightened his hold, gradually pressed all of his weight onto Dean’s stretched torso, and sharply bit Dean’s ear.
Dean’s erection jerked against his inner thigh. Sam’s grin widened.
“Looks like I’m not the only one.”
“Shu—” Dean objected but Sam caught the half-formed words with a harsh, open-mouthed kiss. He kneaded Dean’s mouth with his own, forcing a tongue in and tried to lick the back of Dean’s throat. The older brother involuntarily curved up, seeking more skin, more heat, more Sam.
“Is this what you wanted, Dean?” Sam gleefully growled as he twisted his grip, Dean crying out at the Indian burn. “You wanted me on top so I could force you, didn’t you? Force you to—mmm… do all the dirty things you’ve always wanted, but were—ah— too scared to ask.”
“God, Sammy,” Dean wetly gasped. Adequately satisfied, Sam stopped teasing and started concentrating on the squirming body beneath him.
He began by scaling Dean’s chiseled chest, then turning around until he could sit on Dean’s face and comfortably taste his brother’s dick at the same time.
“You want to fuck me, you better get me ready,” he said, before reaching back and spreading his own cheeks.
At the sight of his younger brother’s puckered entrance, Dean’s cock twitched excitedly, slapping against Sam’s face and leaving a little splatter of clear fluid.
“Make me loose, Dean,” Sam ordered, hot breaths puffing against the shaft in front of him. “I don’t care how. Just get me ready for this big cock of yours.” He moved forward and suckled the weeping crown, swirling the slippery precum over the head of Dean’s dick.
Dean cursed loudly and was momentarily paralyzed at the sensation of Sam’s mouth, which crept down until the younger brother’s upper lip kissed the top of Dean’s balls. But when Sam reached back up and spread Dean’s thighs, massaging the muscle with large, capable hands, the older brother suddenly remembered his task.
Sam’s asshole. Get it loose. Right.
Dean cautiously parted the globes of Sam’s pale ass and licked a slow, unsteady stripe from his younger brother’s heavy-hanging balls, over his perineum and flicking into the dip of Sam’s hole.
Sam keened with a mouthful of cock and embedded his fingernails into Dean’s thighs so hard that for a split second, Dean thought against doing that again.
But then he looked up and there was Sammy’s hole again, wet and shiny and in need of some preparation. And who was Dean if not Sam’s ever-helpful older sibling? He pulled Sam’s cheeks apart and dove his tongue in, deep as it would go, wiggling and twisting to gain that all-important extra millimeter.
Sam went wild at the other end, drooling and sucking and swallowing like he’d win points for sheer noise. Dean thanked God for the potent alcohol in his system; had he been sober, Dean probably would’ve shot his load at just the sound of Sam’s slurping. As it was, he felt his engulfed dick flex in what was surely a couple squirts of precum, and then went back to eating out Sam’s ass.
After a few minutes of licking and stretching, Dean shoved his tongue between three deeply sunken fingers and the lip of Sam’s asshole. Sam let Dean’s right testicle drop from his mouth and cried out in ecstasy.
“Oh fuck Dean—Dean!! ” Face still buried against his brother’s squirming ass, Dean hummed a salutation at his name and Sam felt the tremor echo throughout his body in waves of ohfuckme.
So Sam propped himself up with both hands, roughly wrestled Dean’s boxer-briefs off of his thighs and calves, then lifted his ass up off of Dean’s face. Kicking off the underpants, the older brother whined in complaint and tried to keep his fingers in, even attempted to work his pinky into Sam’s dripping crevice but the younger brother resolutely removed the digits with a firm hand.
“Want you in me—“ Sam groaned as he turned around to face his brother again. He ducked down and wildly bit at Dean’s throat while gripping his brother’s hard on with a grip so tight that Dean’s dick was prevented from premature ejaculation. Which was just as well because if Sam hadn’t done so, the older brother would have been coming in copious, general spurts…on the outside of Sam’s asshole. And neither Winchester wanted that.
“God Sammy please—stop teasing me you ah—little bitch!!”
“M’not teasing you,” Sam said wickedly, moving his pelvis in little circles so that Dean’s penis shallowly rubbed at Sam’s sloppy, loosened entrance. The younger brother lowered himself down and inch or so, then rose back up with a twist of the hips.
“Fuck, Sammy, just fucking sit on my cock alrea—“ Dean nearly screamed, when Sam took pity, let the tension out of his legs, and sank down. With his brother buried inside of him.
Dean screamed.
Sam sighed blissfully, taking a moment to relish the sense of fullness before experimentally rocking forward. Pleasantly met with Dean’s drunken, babbled encouragement, Sam repeated the motion. Then did it again. And again, and again until he was well and truly riding Dean’s dick like a champion cowboy.
“Ah god, Sam!! !” Dean’s face scrunched up and Sam felt exactly how hard, how completely stiff his older brother had gone inside of him, and realized with awe Dean was about to come.
“Wait Dean—“ Sam cried, stilling himself half-impaled and reaching back to harshly squeeze Dean’s balls, but it was too late. He felt his brother buck beneath him, felt how tight Dean’s sac felt in his hand. Sinking back down in capitulation, Sam clenched his hole and rocked into Dean’s orgasm, prolonging the ride.
After nearly an eternity of shaking muscles and breathy nonsense, Sam slumped down, holding Dean’s trembling biceps down and mewling against his older brother’s damp neck.
“Ah, fuck,” Dean blearily swore. “M’sorry Sammy— so fucking tight…”
Sam smiled against his brother’s bobbing Adam’s apple. He felt the dick inside his ass relax, though still hard with blood. Viscous warmth languidly slid out from their joined bodies and Sam involuntarily clenched his ass again, trying to keep the semen in while Dean jumped from the over-sensation.
God, Sam wanted to be full of Dean, Dean’s sleepily softening dick, Dean’s freshly-made come, for-fucking-ever. He smoothed his palms up and down his brother’s calming arms.
“Wh-‘bout you?” Dean interjected Sam’s mushy thoughts. He skated an unsteady hand down Sam’s flank and slipped between their sweat-cooled bodies. Sam groaned as strong fingers encircled his still-hard flesh.
“C’mon Sammy, wanna get you off,” Dean said as he pushed at Sam’s shoulders, urging the younger man to sit up again. Dean’s penis slipped out from Sam’s hole and with it, a gush of body-heated come. Sam scooted up so that the torrent spread out over Dean’s lower belly instead of the motel bedcovers.
“Hey, that’s gross,” Dean griped as the thick fluid dribbled into his navel and down the sides of his hips.
“Stop whining,” Sam laughed as he wrapped his own hand around Dean’s unmoving one and forced a slow, steady pull of his dick.
“Oh yeah,” Dean breathed. He pumped his fist again in tandem with Sam’s, and the two of them jacked Sam’s cock in quick jerks that gradually picked up speed.
“I’m close Dean—“ Sam moaned, letting the heady aroma of Dean’s sex fill his nostrils like an aphrodisiac. He squeezed his fist harder around his brother’s as Dean took a little initiative and started twisting his wrist, making hot-slick-friction that burned a path through Sam’s body, clenching a grip around his chest and pulling the ache down to his groin.
At the sound of Dean’s whimper, Sam opened eyes he hadn’t realized were closed. He looked down and saw Dean biting his lip so hard, the worried flesh around his teeth were white with pressure. His brother’s dilated eyes were fixated on their joined hands, pumping a blue streak up and down Sam’s engorged flesh.
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean whispered, and at the small sound of his brother’s voice over slapping flesh, Sam crossed the brink.
Years of listening to Dean talk, swear, flirt, he’d spent years around his big brother’s familiar voice but Sam had never heard him quite like this. Had never heard the want ripped from Dean’s throat, had never heard him so uncontrollably quiet, like he would break in half from the intensity of it all. Sam heard Dean’s awe beat through his eardrums and fuck, he had never felt so wanted, so needed before.
“Dean,” he sobbed, and came.
Dean let go of his lower lip and dropped his head back against the mattress, arching into the shower of warm liquid that splattered over his torso, neck, face. He felt his body let go, like a second orgasm that exploded in his chest rather than groin. He felt Sam’s semen on his face and it felt like being blessed.
When Dean’s hand loosened over Sam’s twitching dick, Sam opened his eyes. His brother was fast asleep.
He wordlessly slipped off and clumsily padded to the bathroom to wet a hand towel. Walked back to the bed and looked at Dean, passed out and covered in two loads of come. Sam felt his throat close.
He gingerly wiped the sticky, cooled mess from Dean’s face and body and the older man groaned, rolling over onto his side before Sam could finish digging the towel into Dean’s belly button.
Sam tossed the laden towel onto the night stand and slid into bed behind Dean, wrapping his arms and legs around him to ensure that the older man couldn’t leave in the morning without his noticing. He inhaled Dean from the back of his brother’s neck, sighed contentedly, and fell asleep.
-----
Dean woke up. Groggily noted that there were arms and legs encasing him but that wouldn’t be a first, so he fought them loose and turned around to find out what face he’d see.
Sammy, hair in his face and lightly drooling. Wait, what?
“Oh, fuck no,” he whispered to himself. Tried to sneakily peel his younger brother’s limbs off but god damn it, Sam was firmly secured and really fucking heavy.
Sleepy, feline eyes blinked open. Dean stared back in panic.
“No,” Sam said, the word barely recognizable through hours of heavy slumber, and he pulled Dean forward into a morning kiss that was moist and unfocused.
Dean struggled at first, cursing himself for the weak son of a bitch he’d been last night, but then Sam crawled on top of him and pinned him down with a slow, demanding tongue.
“No,” Sam repeated.
Dean blinked at his younger brother’s face, so close and possessive with a hint of fear lingering behind the wrinkle of his forehead, and Dean decided that he could deal with the logistics later. Right now he had to smooth the unhappiness from his Sammy’s face.
He craned his neck up to brush his lips across Sam’s tightened ones, and nursed, gently, until the mouth on his relaxed. They slowly, leisurely, woke each other up with lingering kisses until Dean’s neck ached and he fell back against the pillow.
“You smell like day-old alcohol,” Sam said with a smile.
“Ah, fuck you,” Dean replied as Sam ducked down and nipped at the stubble on his brother’s chin.
Dean could deal with the logistics later. Much, much later because Sammy was kissing down Dean’s face, down his neck, and Dean sure as hell wasn’t about to miss out on where this was headed.
He curled a hand in little brother’s mussed up hair and felt Sam smile against his skin.
End.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 10:16 pm (UTC)luv lots,
Vanna
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Date: 2007-01-06 12:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 11:09 pm (UTC)Oh Holy hell! this is so freakin' hot! Thank you so much! I absolutely love angst filled first time fics and this one just owns me ! and that is all I have because my brain is still oozing out of my ear !! LOL
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 12:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 11:28 pm (UTC)I love how sure Sammy is of what they are doing, all the while Dean is concerned and unsure and needing some confirmation. For some fucked up reason, I love when Sammy is the one trying to protect Dean, and not the other way around. It's so beautiful
and hot.Lovely story, sweetie! ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 12:07 am (UTC)Thanks for reading!
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Date: 2007-01-05 11:47 pm (UTC)now i need a moment to myself.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 12:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 12:16 am (UTC)keep up the good work
lots of love
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 12:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 12:22 am (UTC)You make me smile. :D
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 12:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 01:40 am (UTC)Yessssss. I wanted to write a PWP and this popped out. I'm glad it fulfilled its role of being sucessfully hot! I even told my beta to make sure it was steamy since there's nothing more boring than rehashed smut. Lol.
Thanks for reading!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 01:23 am (UTC)*jumps into ice bucket* That was just pure hot smut!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 01:43 am (UTC)I'm glad you liked desperate!Sammy! I'm a fan myself, so I tend to write whiny bitchy angsty boys. My 20-chapter Prison Break fic consists entirely of the younger brother being a total slut for his guilt-ridden big brother >.> *blushy*
Anyway, thanks for reading and commenting! *hugs*
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 04:34 am (UTC)Also, I loved the Velvet Goldmine reference. It cracked me up.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 05:56 am (UTC)And hey, you got the Velvet Goldmine ref! *does happy dance* I figured there had to be *some* of you guys who would get it. *points to your icon* Hot one indeed. Anyway, thanks for reading!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 06:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 06:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 10:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 11:21 am (UTC)Btw I love your icon. It's so emo XD I want one!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 04:18 pm (UTC)i love all of your fics!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 07:11 pm (UTC)Teehee I'm just kidding. Thanks for reading, sweetie!
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 04:38 pm (UTC)*gigglesnort* Nice one :]
You made Dean cry? Srsly?? Well now. That's new.
uncontrollably quiet
oooh, I liked this. Nice phrase!
All in all, I liked the fic :) Fun one :)
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 01:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-10 12:31 pm (UTC)Love,
Julie-Rae
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Date: 2007-01-10 05:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-14 07:14 pm (UTC)Just finished all 3 parts...brain melted and oozing through my ears and all I can really say right now is OMFGSOHOTasknsldgntghfngndnfsjngfflngguh!!!;)
Loved it!
*saves in memories*
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Date: 2007-01-14 07:33 pm (UTC)Thanks for the luffly comments! I always get so happy when ppl mem my stuff XD
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 02:09 pm (UTC)*imagines them having Good Morning sex and grins happily*
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-19 09:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-19 10:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-21 02:43 am (UTC)This entire thing was amazing. I look forward to reading else you write.
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Date: 2007-02-21 04:03 am (UTC)Thanks for reading!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-08 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-12 12:04 am (UTC)Thank you so much for writing it!
no subject
Date: 2007-06-13 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 11:55 am (UTC)