FIC: Weapon of Choice: Chapter 7
Jul. 12th, 2006 04:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xantissaAfter dozen's of panicked posts, and seven accounts later. my beta lifesscar and I have finally managed to contact! And even send an attatchment!
So, later than promised, but extra long, here it is. The sex! uhm, I mean, chapter 7
Title: Weapon of Choice
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: xantissa
Summary: A case turning out to be a set up. Sam taken away from him. An enemy he can’t identify. Father that struggles to understand. Dean, alone, fighting to save his brother from power no one can really understand.
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: 18+
Warnings: incest, slash, demon possession, violence.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all it’s characters belong to WB. I do it just for fun, no profit being made from my writing.
Spoilers: Mild for Asylum, Nightmare tiny ones for probably most of the first season.
Chapter 7
Dean shuddered at the words, his cock half twitching between his legs. It almost hurt, his body trying to get it up so soon after his orgasm, but hell, if there was one kink that was guaranteed to get him off in minutes, it was dirty talk.
Sam moved away then. He was completely unselfconscious in his nudity. That long, perfectly muscled body moved like water, quiet and sure as he left the bathroom, hips swaying gently as he walked.
Dean couldn’t stop his eyes from following that smooth, pale back. That inviting groove of backbone, down into the shallow dimple just above Sam’s ass, where small, taut ass cheeks started. Sam was all long lines and hand angles.
When dressed in his oversized hoodies, people tended to think him skinny. But naked, all the powerful muscle showed with mouth watering clarity.
Not really capable of doing anything else, Dean followed Sam into the room; it only had one bed. His brother was sitting on it, all casual intensity, darkness and hard planes of flesh.
He sat high, up on the headboard. One leg bent with an elbow resting on it, the other leg lay flush on the bed. His head was tilted back, resting against the wall, eyes half closed.
Watching.
Waiting.
Sam’s free hand was in his lap, those long, talented fingers circleing loosely around the perfectly hard cock. His dick was long, elegant almost, much paler than Dean’s own. It looked slimmer too. It had something very appealing about the way it curved slightly upwards, the head a darker shade.
Dean licked his lips. If he didn’t think about Sam as his little brother, this body, this form would be extremely appealing to him. It was the curse, he reminded himself, that made him feel this attraction, made him so goddamned lust crazy.
Sam was watching him and Dean felt another shiver run down his body. There was a thrill in being watched, for him, attraction that that made his dick that little bit harder, his balls tighter.
Slowly, letting his trademark, cocky grin tug at his lips, Dean crawled onto the foot of the bed. On hands and knees, he crawled over Sam’s legs. He stopped over the bony knee and bent down to bite down at the softer flesh above, relishing the intake of breath from above. He crawled his way, kissing and nipping in random places, up to Sam’s face. Kissing him. Slow, wet and dirty. The saliva dripped down his chin and Sam’s hands became more insistent with every passing second. Dean was already impressed with the level of his brother’s control. He wouldn’t be able to deny himself for so long.
“I will fuck you.” Sam rasped, carefully pronouncing each word, so close to his face, Dean could feel his breath. Hot and heavy on his lips. It was a statement of fact. Not a question. “I’m going to split you wide open, press my cock into you and fuck you so deep, you’ll feel me for a week.” Sam murmured, his hand sliding over Dean’s body. “I’ll make you come so many times you’ll beg me to stop. I’ll make you come so hard it’ll be more pain than pleasure.” Sam promised him darkly. “I’ll fuck you again and again, and again...” His fingers found Dean’s cleft and slid there. One slender digit finding the sensitive hole and slipping inside making Dean groan. “...and again, until that tight hole of yours is loose, open and sloppy, until my come will run down your thighs, wet and sticky. I’ll fuck you until this... “He pumped his finger in and out without any lubrication, making it burn “...is red and swollen. I’ll fuck you until there’s nothing left in you but me.”
Dean shuddered, torn between pleasure and pain, arousal and fear. His cock was almost completely hard again and he could barely think with all those pictures Sam kept painting in his head.
“Would you like that Dean?” Sam asked, pulling his hand away and reaching to Dean’s nipples, pinching them sharply, making the older Winchester hiss. “Would you like me to hurt you? Just a little bit?”
In that moment Dean gave up trying to keep any semblance of control, which his brother was determined to break anyway.
“Yes.” He admitted brokenly.
Sam smiled. A tiny, almost gentle smile on his alien face.
“Lay down on your stomach.” He ordered and Dean complied, sitting himself carefully face down an the bed.
“Spread your legs.” Sam whispered hotly, “I want to see how much you want this.”
Dean had to burrow his face in the cool pillow, feeling how hot his skin was. God, it was making him hot. His need, his desire clouded his mind. He did as he was ordered without once thinking just how submissive he acted. He shifted his hips, trying to keep his erection from being uncomfortably squashed. He felt exposed, vulnerable like this. Naked, legs spread, with Sam staring at him like a starving man at a three course meal.
It took his brother forever to finally touch him, barely a brush of hand over his arms. Sam shifted, kneeling between Dean’s legs, bending forward almost covering his older brother’s body.
“You are so beautiful.” Sam whispered, licking over the rim of Dean’s ear. "I love your body.” Sam pressed the palms of his hands to Deans shoulders and dragged them slowly down. Over the wide expanse of his perfect muscle, golden brown skin, to the hard, round ass. All the while talking, whispering low and dirty in Dean’s ear.
“So strong, so perfect.” He let his fingernails scrap at the soft skin. “So hard. And mine. Completely mine.”
When Sam’s fingers reached Dean’s cleft, the older man tensed and moved, reaching under the pillow. He pulled out something. Then threw the items over his shoulder.
“Use these.”
Sam’s chuckle above him was positively wicked.
“Always prepared, huh?”
“Boy Scouts have nothing on me.” Dean quipped, but it fell flat, sounded strained with the husky, shaky quality of his voice.
He could hear the cap of the bottle of lube being opened, could feel Sam shifting behind him. He wasn’t scared. Just a little... nervous. After all he had never been fucked before and now he was going to do it with his possessed little brother. Nothing to be afraid of.
He never trusted anyone enough to allow it, he doubt he ever would. It required the level of trust he simply never put in people. He only ever trusted his Dad and Sammy. So it kind of made sense that it was Sam to fuck him for the first time. Dean was never even curious about it, and now he lay here, legs spread, waiting for his brother to put his cock into his ass. Maybe it was the curse, and maybe he just didn’t know himself as well as he thought.
A quiet ‘plop’ beside his head caught his attention and he looked there, only to see an unopened condom.
“Sam...” He started unsure.
He might not have been bottoming before, but he had sex with men. So he did know something about it. No matter the lubrication, latex was always much smoother than skin. Using a condom, besides protection, reduced friction.
“No. No barriers between us. I want you to feel me.” Sam whispered darkly. His fingers, slick this time, found it’s way to Dean’s cleft again. “Besides, you want it to hurt a bit, don’t you?”
Dean scrunched his eyes closed, oh God, yes. He wanted it. Wanted it so bad he was a breath away from begging.
Sam pressed his finger inside, sliding deep on the first try. No hesitation, no time for Dean to adjust. There wasn’t much stretching, just a few quick thrusts and he pulled the finger out, only to return seconds later with a companion.
Dean groaned at the light burn, the lube helping but not eliminating the friction. He fisted his hands in the pillow and held on, sensing that things were going to be rough, just like he liked.
Two fingers were a stretch, but not really painful nor uncomfortable. Just alien.
This time Sam wasn’t taking time to stroke his prostate like in the shower, not giving Dean any kind of distraction that would take his mind away from the long digits in his ass. When he pulled out, Dean knew what would happen next. It still didn’t prepare him for the burn and stretch, the sheer pressure as Sam pushed three fingers inside. He couldn’t stop the half choked whimper that tore out of his throat. His hands tensed on the cheap cotton of the pillowcase, knuckles whitening.
Just a few thrusts, barely enough to lube him up, not really stretching him either, certainly not enough to prepare him for the upcoming invasion.
When Sam pulled his fingers out, Dean tried his best to control his breathing. His ass pulsed, both in anticipation and fear, the ghost memory of fingers inside him, made him clench.
“Now.” Whispered Sam and shifted again, one hand resting above Dean’s head, bracing his weight, the other out of view.
At first Dean only felt a light touch of something blunt and hot at his anus, not pressing, just resting there. Wet and hard, making him shudder in want, frying his nerves with anticipation. But nothing happened. Sam seemed content to just rest there, his cockhead barely touching Dean’s ass, nothing else of his body touching his brother.
“Please.” Dean finally whispered, not able to stand it any longer.
Without a word, Sam moved. Thrust in one, gut twisting, slow move that breached the still tight ring of muscle and stretched him. The entry was slow, almost dizzyingly painful and Dean lost complete control over the sound leaving his throat. Low, plaintative whimpers and almost broken sobs as Sam pushed, relentlessly, deeper and deeper inside. Pushed his insides away, rearranged him.
“Oh God...” Dean scratched at the thin pillowcase, barely aware of the sound of the thin cotton tearing. He arched his neck back, his eyes scrunched tight.
God it hurt, but underneath it all was the incredible feeling of penetration, of being filled, stretched, possessed in a way he didn’t know before, a way he didn’t think was possible. Muscles in his legs and arms trembled, his ass hurt and sweat started dripping down his back.
It seemed like forever, the way Sam pressed his cock in, slowly, ruthlessly, until Dean felt Sam’s pubic hair pressed to his ass cheeks. And oh God, Sam was all the way inside, his cock, heavy and hot, resting inside him.
Dean was breathing so hard, he was almost hyperventilating, and even Sam was panting above him, the sound like a physical caress. The only point of connection between them was the hot spear of Sam’s dick. Nothing else. It made Dean ultra aware of the length, the girt of flesh inside him. The pain receded. Due to him relaxing or the lack of movement, Dean didn’t know. Nor did he care at the moment. At first the stillness was a blessing, giving him time to adjust, to comprehend what he was feeling but after a while it became a torture. The need to move, to do something, anything to relieve the pressure he felt gathering in his balls became almost painful.
Sam still didn’t more.
Desperate for any kind of relief, Dean moved under him, pressing his hips into the sheets seeking any kind of friction. The move made him clench around the rod inside him and he moaned, surprised at the intensity and clarity of sensations. It was almost too much, his mind barely able to process the overwhelming feelings.
Sam’s other hand clenched on his hip, hard and painful, digging his blunt fingernails into the delicate skin there.
“No. You will do only what I tell you, only when I tell you.”
Sam shifted again, resting more of his weight on Dean, laying on him, pressing him into the bed, his cock shifting a little bit deeper inside and Dean almost sobbed.
“Please...” He begged hoarsely.
“Please what?” Asked Sam, his lips so close to Dean’s ear he could feel the moist air he exhaled. “Tell me Dean. What do you want?”
His cock was full and aching, smearing precome on the sheet below him, and Dean felt like he was going to burst. It was too much and not enough at once.
“I want... I need to come.” He finally panted, the stillness driving him crazy.
“Fine,” there was a dark promise in Sam’s voice.
He moved, back into kneeling position, this time both hands clenched tightly on Dean’s hips. As he moved backwards, he used his grip to pull Dean with him, forcing them to stay connected, never pulling his cock out of his brother.
The sensation was a wicked, overwhelming one and Dean had trouble coordinating his limbs. When they stilled again, Sam was sitting on his heels, and Dean was sitting in his lap, knees spread wide on both sides of Sam’s thighs, ass stretched so widely over the hard length inside him.
“Jesus Christ.” Dean panted as the shift in their positions changed the angle of penetration, and Sam was now pressing directly into his prostate, sending white hot shocks of pleasure throughout his body.
Dean’s arms flied, trying to find something, anything to hold onto, to ground him. His hands finally closed over Sam’s, still holding his hips in an unyielding grip.
“Sam.” He whispered brokenly, trying to move but too overwhelmed to do anything at all.
“Don’t move.” His brother’s voice was breathless too, now.
“Sam!” he whined, the pressure in him too much to bear.
“Touch yourself, but don’t move your hips. I want to watch you, feel you jerk off, while I’m inside you. I want to see you come.”
Dean hung his head, eyes closed tightly as he reached for his dick, closed his fist around the painfully straining organ.
He stared moving his fist fast, tight, wanting only to come. Already so close to the edge.
“Slow.” Ordered Sam, biting his shoulder lightly and sneaking one hand to splay it, big and warm, over Dean’s tight stomach. “Do it slow.” He whispered hotly, his voice lower than ever before.
Dean made a painful, sobbing sound even as he obeyed, his hand slowing. He fisted himself slowly, his hand moving over the head with a little twist, and then back to the very end.
He was so close to coming, that every touch was like torture. Too much and not enough at the same time.
“Is it good Dean?” Sam whispered straight into his ear, the hand over his stomach pressing down, making Dean feel the cock seated inside him in a thousand different ways . “Do you like it? Having my cock so deep inside you?”
“Christ!” Dean felt his heart try to hammer it’s way out of his chest. His dick was so sensitive it hurt and his balls were already drawing up towards his body. But the friction was not enough to get him off. The things Sam said, the dark breathy voice took Dean all that closer to the edge.
“Yesss.” He hissed, his hand closing stronger over his cock. He couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Then show me, come for me. Show me how good it is.” Sam urged him.
With a hoarse scream Dean arched, throwing his head back so that it was resting on Sam’s shoulder. His neck was stretched to the point of pain, his hand flew over his cock in desperate need and finally, finally it happened. His body, became almost rigid, his ass clenched so hard over the intruder inside him that Sam hissed, and long strands of come shot out his cock bringing release. Spasm after spasm, pleasure so great it was almost painful, Dean was coming so hard his world started graying out on the edges.
But even before he finished coming, Sam moved. It seemed all his previous control was shattered now. With rough, urging hands he pushed Dean on his hands and knees. Then he started fucking him with all he had. His hips sent a punishing, hard pace that slammed his cock deep and hard into his brother.
Dean was still twitchy, sensitive from his orgasm. It hurt, Sam slamming into him so hard, but God, it hurt so good. He felt like he hadn’t stopped coming at all.
His body still spasmed and clenched, his softening cock sending waves after waves of painful pleasure to his brain, and Sam kept stroking that special place in him with every thrust in. Dean wasn’t even aware he was screaming, cursing with every strong thrust. Wasn’t aware of his white knuckled grip on the cheap sheets, trying to stay connected. He was only aware of the friction, of pleasure and pain ripping his mind apart, of Sam’s cock inside him, the head stretching him so far, so good.
With a sound like a growl, Sam came, his hands leaving bruises on Dean’s hips. His scalding hot come covering Dean’s insides, his body rigid and tense as he reached the long denied release.
Unable to hold himself up any longer, Dean collapsed in a sweaty, heaviy heap on the bed with Sam following him down, blanketing his body with his own, longer and cooler one.
They lay like that for a while, bodies entwined, still connected. Finally Sam moved, shifted, pulling his now soft cock out and Dean hissed at the sensation, but was too lazy, too sated to do anything more than lay there sweaty and sleepy.
Sam pushed him until Dean rolled to his side, and then Sam laid down behind him, close, letting one of his hand to stroke his brother’s flank from shoulder to knee in slow, gentle movements, very at odds with the controlling freak he was just moments before.
With an odd sense of déja vu, Dean felt Sam press his lips to his neck and mouth something, too quiet for him to hear. It took him a moment to discern the word.
‘Mine’
He snorted lightly, fighting his heavy lids and the urge to just fall asleep.
“Possessive much, little brother?” He asked, surprised by the hoarseness of his voice.
His only response was a none too gentle bite to his neck. Another one. He figured he had at least a dozen of them already. Yeah, possessive bastard. But it didn’t feel bad. Dean figured that with Dad that seemed to be able to leave him at a moments notice and the memory of Sam leaving for Stanford, Cassie throwing him out after promising so much, he had some serious abandonment issues. S, being wanted so much, needed so badly, gave him a kind of warm feeling somewhere deep inside, where he wouldn’t admit to it.
The silence was broken only by the occasional car driving by outside, the room dark and warm and Dean felt himself slip into sleep. His body and mind exhausted.
When he was at that stage, half way between sleep and wakefulness, he felt Sam move away from him. He wondered if Sam was going to leave now. Probably yes, but after this, Dean was sure he would come back.
That was why he was so surprised when he felt Sam roll him onto his back, nudging him until he spread his legs. His eyes snapped open as he felt Sam settling himself between them and then move till he was laying over Dean, his head level with Dean’s chest.
He looked into the black eyes, but once again they betrayed nothing. Just pure, deep darkness. Terrifying in it’s darkness, beautiful in it’s intensity.
“I’m not finished.” Sam said slowly, his words almost a threat.
His brother then lowered his head and licked his nipple. Once, twice and then bit it sharply before easing the sting with gentle sucking. Dean’s body felt both relaxed and so incredibly sensitive right now. Those wet, slick touches and bites were almost too much, almost painful. Dean exhaled loudly, his whole body tensing. There were still, although it was completely insane, tiny tremors of arousal cruising his body, making his skin extra sensitive. Like after a mild sunburn, when you weren’t sure if it was really pain or not.
Dean entwined one of his hands in Sam’s shaggy hair and pulled his head up, still not really sure what to do, not really distinguishing pain from pleasure any more.
“Sam... I can’t anymore. Okay?”
The black lines on his cheeks seemed even more stark now, his large, bottomless eyes stared at Dean for a longest moment, unblinking, before Sam answered, “You can. You will. Because I haven’t done all those things I promised you I would do.”
Dean’s breath hitched. There was no hesitation in Sam, no asking for permission. Just a statement of fact.
A sudden ‘clank’ in the room drew his attention from his brother and he looked over, to the floor where his jeans lay. His hand slipped from Sam’s hair as he watched, a little bit scared, a little bit aroused, as his leather belt wormed it’s way out of the loops, by itself. He knew that it was Sam manipulating it with his powers, and the ease, the effortlessness of it all hit him full force when Sam returned to licking and biting all around his chest. The belt floated towards the bed and stopped just inches from them, floating two feet over the floor.
It was so surreal, it took Dean a moment to notice that Sam now had both his wrists in his hands. His eyes snapped towards Sam, but the black eyes didn’t betray a thing.
“Don’t worry Dean. You’ll like it.”
Using his considerable strength, he pushed Dean’s hands over his head, pressing them flat into the pillow. The belt flapped through the air and with a sift hissing sound wrapped itself around Dean’s forearms tightly. One end twisted around the iron in the headboard.
He was helpless, at Sam’s mercy and it sent a sliver of arousal down his spine. There was no way he could get hard again. No fucking way.
He watched his brother lower his hand again to his chest, sucking and nipping at his over sensitive flesh and thought that maybe that was the deal. Maybe Sam wanted him like this, helpless, unable to even get hard when he fucked him again. Wanted Dean to feel every single thing, without distractions.
He shuddered when Sam laved at his navel and then slid quickly to his cock. It hurt, but was also pleasant when Sam took the spent organ into his mouth and sucked very, very gently. To his amazement Dean felt something he has never felt. He was getting into it, arousal pooling low in his belly while his cock stayed limp and spent. Not even a twitch in it. Sam seemed intent on doing this again, and quite seriously he couldn’t really blame him for it. After all, Sam did most of the work and came only once. And he was four years younger than Dean.
Dean’s eyes snapped open when he felt fingers touching his hole. It was pulsing, hurting a bit and shit, but even the slightest touch hurt. But it also sent pleasant shivers up his spine at the memory of how a cock in there felt.
He pulled at his bonds, hearing the leather creak in protest, as Sam pushed two fingers inside. The burn made him choke back a whimper. Sam wasn’t thrusting this time, his fingers went straight for Dean’s prostate and pressed.
This time Dean shouted, his back arching off the bed and hand pulling at the belt until it bit hard into his skin. And that addition, small pain tilted the scale somehow. Suddenly his heart sped up, his mouth became dry and he shifted his legs, gathering Sam between his thighs.
“Yes,” he whispered hoarsely. “Do it now.”
Sam stopped his gentle nursing on his cock and moved up the bed, his hands sliding over the trembling thighs until he could pull them up so that Dean closed his legs over Sam’s waist.
Without a word this time, Sam positioned his already hard cock and pressed into the small, swollen ring of muscle. Dean was so full of lube and come, his passage relaxed and open from the work out it got before, that Sam slid right it, to the hilt in one effortless move.
Dean screamed, it hurt. Hurt so damn much. But he was no longer capable of discerning pain from pleasure. So, he screamed hoarsely again and flexed his legs, pulling Sam in even deeper, almost passing out at the feeling of the hard cock inside him brushing over his prostate.
Sam leaned down, resting his weight on his hands, braced on both sides of his brother's head and moved. He thrust in and out slowly, letting his dick slide almost all the way out until only the flared head stayed inside, stretching the abused muscle ruthlessly, before sliding slowly in. He did it again and again, until Dean felt wetness falling from the corners of his eyes. he never felt this way, this disconnected from reality, so earthy, so mortal; in his body wracked with desires, his mind was no longer capable of comprehending. He felt tension and pressure like he was close to coming but his dick was still soft, laying on his stomach, forgotten.
“Look at me,” Sam forced out, between clenched teeth and Dean complied, opening his eyes.
It was hard, focusing his eyes, when his brain was being turned into mush from all the sensations. The friction and pressure, the want, need, desire and fucking heat that was almost killing Dean.
Sam was above him, muscles in his arms bunched, flexing with every slow, deep thrust. His skin was flushed, slick with sweat. As he looked into his brothers face he saw the alien black eyes staring at him with such heat he felt his breath catch, the black lines were even starker now. Droplets of sweat were scattered over his face, rolling down from his forehead onto his nose, stopping at the sharp point of Sam’s nose, before falling down. Straight on Dean’s lips.
He licked the salty droplet, unable to resist tasting his brother. They were both panting, bodies straining and in that moment Dean knew, was absolutely sure, that his brother was still alive, still there, still strong. Because somewhere behind that darkness, that bottomless blackness, Dean saw love.
Suddenly Sam changed the pace, his thrusts becoming erratic and hard, eliciting another scream out of Dean. The older Winchester was so close, he just needed… something, to push him over the edge. But his cock was still only partially hard with no hope for more. His hands, tied so securely above his head were making him feel helpless and vulnerable, the belt cutting into his skin, leaving angry marks that would be bruised by tomorrow, but he didn’t care. He just needed to come, needed to release the tension in his body or he felt like he would die. Suddenly Sam wrenched one hand free, using only one hand to brace himself and reached between their bodies. He cupped Dean’s whole cock and balls in his large hand, closing his fingers over the genitals and massaged firmly, pressing and releasing in a rhythm matching his thrusts.
It was enough. Dean arched his back so hard he felt something pop and opened his mouth to scream but Sam lunged down and closed his mouth over Dean’s, muffling the agonized scream of release. His cock pulsed but produced no come, still soft. Dean experienced the most amazing, unbelievable sensation of coming with his whole body not only his member. It seemed that every pore, every cell of his body pulsed, releasing the tension, swamping his brain with pleasure he couldn’t comprehend nor process. He felt Sam slamming one last time inside him and then scalding heat covering his insides as his eyes rolled back in his head. Neither his mind, nor body were capable of enduring this kind of input and they simply shut down, sending him falling into soft, safe darkness.
TBC
A/N : The use of the belt was for [info]mackeygenius. I promised you a kink, didn’t I?
A/N 2: Do you realize that this sex scene is two chapters long and consist of approximately 8 800 words? It’s a monster. Never again something this long! I wrote it for almost four days!!!!!!
So, later than promised, but extra long, here it is. The sex! uhm, I mean, chapter 7
Title: Weapon of Choice
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: xantissa
Summary: A case turning out to be a set up. Sam taken away from him. An enemy he can’t identify. Father that struggles to understand. Dean, alone, fighting to save his brother from power no one can really understand.
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: 18+
Warnings: incest, slash, demon possession, violence.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all it’s characters belong to WB. I do it just for fun, no profit being made from my writing.
Spoilers: Mild for Asylum, Nightmare tiny ones for probably most of the first season.
Chapter 7
Dean shuddered at the words, his cock half twitching between his legs. It almost hurt, his body trying to get it up so soon after his orgasm, but hell, if there was one kink that was guaranteed to get him off in minutes, it was dirty talk.
Sam moved away then. He was completely unselfconscious in his nudity. That long, perfectly muscled body moved like water, quiet and sure as he left the bathroom, hips swaying gently as he walked.
Dean couldn’t stop his eyes from following that smooth, pale back. That inviting groove of backbone, down into the shallow dimple just above Sam’s ass, where small, taut ass cheeks started. Sam was all long lines and hand angles.
When dressed in his oversized hoodies, people tended to think him skinny. But naked, all the powerful muscle showed with mouth watering clarity.
Not really capable of doing anything else, Dean followed Sam into the room; it only had one bed. His brother was sitting on it, all casual intensity, darkness and hard planes of flesh.
He sat high, up on the headboard. One leg bent with an elbow resting on it, the other leg lay flush on the bed. His head was tilted back, resting against the wall, eyes half closed.
Watching.
Waiting.
Sam’s free hand was in his lap, those long, talented fingers circleing loosely around the perfectly hard cock. His dick was long, elegant almost, much paler than Dean’s own. It looked slimmer too. It had something very appealing about the way it curved slightly upwards, the head a darker shade.
Dean licked his lips. If he didn’t think about Sam as his little brother, this body, this form would be extremely appealing to him. It was the curse, he reminded himself, that made him feel this attraction, made him so goddamned lust crazy.
Sam was watching him and Dean felt another shiver run down his body. There was a thrill in being watched, for him, attraction that that made his dick that little bit harder, his balls tighter.
Slowly, letting his trademark, cocky grin tug at his lips, Dean crawled onto the foot of the bed. On hands and knees, he crawled over Sam’s legs. He stopped over the bony knee and bent down to bite down at the softer flesh above, relishing the intake of breath from above. He crawled his way, kissing and nipping in random places, up to Sam’s face. Kissing him. Slow, wet and dirty. The saliva dripped down his chin and Sam’s hands became more insistent with every passing second. Dean was already impressed with the level of his brother’s control. He wouldn’t be able to deny himself for so long.
“I will fuck you.” Sam rasped, carefully pronouncing each word, so close to his face, Dean could feel his breath. Hot and heavy on his lips. It was a statement of fact. Not a question. “I’m going to split you wide open, press my cock into you and fuck you so deep, you’ll feel me for a week.” Sam murmured, his hand sliding over Dean’s body. “I’ll make you come so many times you’ll beg me to stop. I’ll make you come so hard it’ll be more pain than pleasure.” Sam promised him darkly. “I’ll fuck you again and again, and again...” His fingers found Dean’s cleft and slid there. One slender digit finding the sensitive hole and slipping inside making Dean groan. “...and again, until that tight hole of yours is loose, open and sloppy, until my come will run down your thighs, wet and sticky. I’ll fuck you until this... “He pumped his finger in and out without any lubrication, making it burn “...is red and swollen. I’ll fuck you until there’s nothing left in you but me.”
Dean shuddered, torn between pleasure and pain, arousal and fear. His cock was almost completely hard again and he could barely think with all those pictures Sam kept painting in his head.
“Would you like that Dean?” Sam asked, pulling his hand away and reaching to Dean’s nipples, pinching them sharply, making the older Winchester hiss. “Would you like me to hurt you? Just a little bit?”
In that moment Dean gave up trying to keep any semblance of control, which his brother was determined to break anyway.
“Yes.” He admitted brokenly.
Sam smiled. A tiny, almost gentle smile on his alien face.
“Lay down on your stomach.” He ordered and Dean complied, sitting himself carefully face down an the bed.
“Spread your legs.” Sam whispered hotly, “I want to see how much you want this.”
Dean had to burrow his face in the cool pillow, feeling how hot his skin was. God, it was making him hot. His need, his desire clouded his mind. He did as he was ordered without once thinking just how submissive he acted. He shifted his hips, trying to keep his erection from being uncomfortably squashed. He felt exposed, vulnerable like this. Naked, legs spread, with Sam staring at him like a starving man at a three course meal.
It took his brother forever to finally touch him, barely a brush of hand over his arms. Sam shifted, kneeling between Dean’s legs, bending forward almost covering his older brother’s body.
“You are so beautiful.” Sam whispered, licking over the rim of Dean’s ear. "I love your body.” Sam pressed the palms of his hands to Deans shoulders and dragged them slowly down. Over the wide expanse of his perfect muscle, golden brown skin, to the hard, round ass. All the while talking, whispering low and dirty in Dean’s ear.
“So strong, so perfect.” He let his fingernails scrap at the soft skin. “So hard. And mine. Completely mine.”
When Sam’s fingers reached Dean’s cleft, the older man tensed and moved, reaching under the pillow. He pulled out something. Then threw the items over his shoulder.
“Use these.”
Sam’s chuckle above him was positively wicked.
“Always prepared, huh?”
“Boy Scouts have nothing on me.” Dean quipped, but it fell flat, sounded strained with the husky, shaky quality of his voice.
He could hear the cap of the bottle of lube being opened, could feel Sam shifting behind him. He wasn’t scared. Just a little... nervous. After all he had never been fucked before and now he was going to do it with his possessed little brother. Nothing to be afraid of.
He never trusted anyone enough to allow it, he doubt he ever would. It required the level of trust he simply never put in people. He only ever trusted his Dad and Sammy. So it kind of made sense that it was Sam to fuck him for the first time. Dean was never even curious about it, and now he lay here, legs spread, waiting for his brother to put his cock into his ass. Maybe it was the curse, and maybe he just didn’t know himself as well as he thought.
A quiet ‘plop’ beside his head caught his attention and he looked there, only to see an unopened condom.
“Sam...” He started unsure.
He might not have been bottoming before, but he had sex with men. So he did know something about it. No matter the lubrication, latex was always much smoother than skin. Using a condom, besides protection, reduced friction.
“No. No barriers between us. I want you to feel me.” Sam whispered darkly. His fingers, slick this time, found it’s way to Dean’s cleft again. “Besides, you want it to hurt a bit, don’t you?”
Dean scrunched his eyes closed, oh God, yes. He wanted it. Wanted it so bad he was a breath away from begging.
Sam pressed his finger inside, sliding deep on the first try. No hesitation, no time for Dean to adjust. There wasn’t much stretching, just a few quick thrusts and he pulled the finger out, only to return seconds later with a companion.
Dean groaned at the light burn, the lube helping but not eliminating the friction. He fisted his hands in the pillow and held on, sensing that things were going to be rough, just like he liked.
Two fingers were a stretch, but not really painful nor uncomfortable. Just alien.
This time Sam wasn’t taking time to stroke his prostate like in the shower, not giving Dean any kind of distraction that would take his mind away from the long digits in his ass. When he pulled out, Dean knew what would happen next. It still didn’t prepare him for the burn and stretch, the sheer pressure as Sam pushed three fingers inside. He couldn’t stop the half choked whimper that tore out of his throat. His hands tensed on the cheap cotton of the pillowcase, knuckles whitening.
Just a few thrusts, barely enough to lube him up, not really stretching him either, certainly not enough to prepare him for the upcoming invasion.
When Sam pulled his fingers out, Dean tried his best to control his breathing. His ass pulsed, both in anticipation and fear, the ghost memory of fingers inside him, made him clench.
“Now.” Whispered Sam and shifted again, one hand resting above Dean’s head, bracing his weight, the other out of view.
At first Dean only felt a light touch of something blunt and hot at his anus, not pressing, just resting there. Wet and hard, making him shudder in want, frying his nerves with anticipation. But nothing happened. Sam seemed content to just rest there, his cockhead barely touching Dean’s ass, nothing else of his body touching his brother.
“Please.” Dean finally whispered, not able to stand it any longer.
Without a word, Sam moved. Thrust in one, gut twisting, slow move that breached the still tight ring of muscle and stretched him. The entry was slow, almost dizzyingly painful and Dean lost complete control over the sound leaving his throat. Low, plaintative whimpers and almost broken sobs as Sam pushed, relentlessly, deeper and deeper inside. Pushed his insides away, rearranged him.
“Oh God...” Dean scratched at the thin pillowcase, barely aware of the sound of the thin cotton tearing. He arched his neck back, his eyes scrunched tight.
God it hurt, but underneath it all was the incredible feeling of penetration, of being filled, stretched, possessed in a way he didn’t know before, a way he didn’t think was possible. Muscles in his legs and arms trembled, his ass hurt and sweat started dripping down his back.
It seemed like forever, the way Sam pressed his cock in, slowly, ruthlessly, until Dean felt Sam’s pubic hair pressed to his ass cheeks. And oh God, Sam was all the way inside, his cock, heavy and hot, resting inside him.
Dean was breathing so hard, he was almost hyperventilating, and even Sam was panting above him, the sound like a physical caress. The only point of connection between them was the hot spear of Sam’s dick. Nothing else. It made Dean ultra aware of the length, the girt of flesh inside him. The pain receded. Due to him relaxing or the lack of movement, Dean didn’t know. Nor did he care at the moment. At first the stillness was a blessing, giving him time to adjust, to comprehend what he was feeling but after a while it became a torture. The need to move, to do something, anything to relieve the pressure he felt gathering in his balls became almost painful.
Sam still didn’t more.
Desperate for any kind of relief, Dean moved under him, pressing his hips into the sheets seeking any kind of friction. The move made him clench around the rod inside him and he moaned, surprised at the intensity and clarity of sensations. It was almost too much, his mind barely able to process the overwhelming feelings.
Sam’s other hand clenched on his hip, hard and painful, digging his blunt fingernails into the delicate skin there.
“No. You will do only what I tell you, only when I tell you.”
Sam shifted again, resting more of his weight on Dean, laying on him, pressing him into the bed, his cock shifting a little bit deeper inside and Dean almost sobbed.
“Please...” He begged hoarsely.
“Please what?” Asked Sam, his lips so close to Dean’s ear he could feel the moist air he exhaled. “Tell me Dean. What do you want?”
His cock was full and aching, smearing precome on the sheet below him, and Dean felt like he was going to burst. It was too much and not enough at once.
“I want... I need to come.” He finally panted, the stillness driving him crazy.
“Fine,” there was a dark promise in Sam’s voice.
He moved, back into kneeling position, this time both hands clenched tightly on Dean’s hips. As he moved backwards, he used his grip to pull Dean with him, forcing them to stay connected, never pulling his cock out of his brother.
The sensation was a wicked, overwhelming one and Dean had trouble coordinating his limbs. When they stilled again, Sam was sitting on his heels, and Dean was sitting in his lap, knees spread wide on both sides of Sam’s thighs, ass stretched so widely over the hard length inside him.
“Jesus Christ.” Dean panted as the shift in their positions changed the angle of penetration, and Sam was now pressing directly into his prostate, sending white hot shocks of pleasure throughout his body.
Dean’s arms flied, trying to find something, anything to hold onto, to ground him. His hands finally closed over Sam’s, still holding his hips in an unyielding grip.
“Sam.” He whispered brokenly, trying to move but too overwhelmed to do anything at all.
“Don’t move.” His brother’s voice was breathless too, now.
“Sam!” he whined, the pressure in him too much to bear.
“Touch yourself, but don’t move your hips. I want to watch you, feel you jerk off, while I’m inside you. I want to see you come.”
Dean hung his head, eyes closed tightly as he reached for his dick, closed his fist around the painfully straining organ.
He stared moving his fist fast, tight, wanting only to come. Already so close to the edge.
“Slow.” Ordered Sam, biting his shoulder lightly and sneaking one hand to splay it, big and warm, over Dean’s tight stomach. “Do it slow.” He whispered hotly, his voice lower than ever before.
Dean made a painful, sobbing sound even as he obeyed, his hand slowing. He fisted himself slowly, his hand moving over the head with a little twist, and then back to the very end.
He was so close to coming, that every touch was like torture. Too much and not enough at the same time.
“Is it good Dean?” Sam whispered straight into his ear, the hand over his stomach pressing down, making Dean feel the cock seated inside him in a thousand different ways . “Do you like it? Having my cock so deep inside you?”
“Christ!” Dean felt his heart try to hammer it’s way out of his chest. His dick was so sensitive it hurt and his balls were already drawing up towards his body. But the friction was not enough to get him off. The things Sam said, the dark breathy voice took Dean all that closer to the edge.
“Yesss.” He hissed, his hand closing stronger over his cock. He couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Then show me, come for me. Show me how good it is.” Sam urged him.
With a hoarse scream Dean arched, throwing his head back so that it was resting on Sam’s shoulder. His neck was stretched to the point of pain, his hand flew over his cock in desperate need and finally, finally it happened. His body, became almost rigid, his ass clenched so hard over the intruder inside him that Sam hissed, and long strands of come shot out his cock bringing release. Spasm after spasm, pleasure so great it was almost painful, Dean was coming so hard his world started graying out on the edges.
But even before he finished coming, Sam moved. It seemed all his previous control was shattered now. With rough, urging hands he pushed Dean on his hands and knees. Then he started fucking him with all he had. His hips sent a punishing, hard pace that slammed his cock deep and hard into his brother.
Dean was still twitchy, sensitive from his orgasm. It hurt, Sam slamming into him so hard, but God, it hurt so good. He felt like he hadn’t stopped coming at all.
His body still spasmed and clenched, his softening cock sending waves after waves of painful pleasure to his brain, and Sam kept stroking that special place in him with every thrust in. Dean wasn’t even aware he was screaming, cursing with every strong thrust. Wasn’t aware of his white knuckled grip on the cheap sheets, trying to stay connected. He was only aware of the friction, of pleasure and pain ripping his mind apart, of Sam’s cock inside him, the head stretching him so far, so good.
With a sound like a growl, Sam came, his hands leaving bruises on Dean’s hips. His scalding hot come covering Dean’s insides, his body rigid and tense as he reached the long denied release.
Unable to hold himself up any longer, Dean collapsed in a sweaty, heaviy heap on the bed with Sam following him down, blanketing his body with his own, longer and cooler one.
They lay like that for a while, bodies entwined, still connected. Finally Sam moved, shifted, pulling his now soft cock out and Dean hissed at the sensation, but was too lazy, too sated to do anything more than lay there sweaty and sleepy.
Sam pushed him until Dean rolled to his side, and then Sam laid down behind him, close, letting one of his hand to stroke his brother’s flank from shoulder to knee in slow, gentle movements, very at odds with the controlling freak he was just moments before.
With an odd sense of déja vu, Dean felt Sam press his lips to his neck and mouth something, too quiet for him to hear. It took him a moment to discern the word.
‘Mine’
He snorted lightly, fighting his heavy lids and the urge to just fall asleep.
“Possessive much, little brother?” He asked, surprised by the hoarseness of his voice.
His only response was a none too gentle bite to his neck. Another one. He figured he had at least a dozen of them already. Yeah, possessive bastard. But it didn’t feel bad. Dean figured that with Dad that seemed to be able to leave him at a moments notice and the memory of Sam leaving for Stanford, Cassie throwing him out after promising so much, he had some serious abandonment issues. S, being wanted so much, needed so badly, gave him a kind of warm feeling somewhere deep inside, where he wouldn’t admit to it.
The silence was broken only by the occasional car driving by outside, the room dark and warm and Dean felt himself slip into sleep. His body and mind exhausted.
When he was at that stage, half way between sleep and wakefulness, he felt Sam move away from him. He wondered if Sam was going to leave now. Probably yes, but after this, Dean was sure he would come back.
That was why he was so surprised when he felt Sam roll him onto his back, nudging him until he spread his legs. His eyes snapped open as he felt Sam settling himself between them and then move till he was laying over Dean, his head level with Dean’s chest.
He looked into the black eyes, but once again they betrayed nothing. Just pure, deep darkness. Terrifying in it’s darkness, beautiful in it’s intensity.
“I’m not finished.” Sam said slowly, his words almost a threat.
His brother then lowered his head and licked his nipple. Once, twice and then bit it sharply before easing the sting with gentle sucking. Dean’s body felt both relaxed and so incredibly sensitive right now. Those wet, slick touches and bites were almost too much, almost painful. Dean exhaled loudly, his whole body tensing. There were still, although it was completely insane, tiny tremors of arousal cruising his body, making his skin extra sensitive. Like after a mild sunburn, when you weren’t sure if it was really pain or not.
Dean entwined one of his hands in Sam’s shaggy hair and pulled his head up, still not really sure what to do, not really distinguishing pain from pleasure any more.
“Sam... I can’t anymore. Okay?”
The black lines on his cheeks seemed even more stark now, his large, bottomless eyes stared at Dean for a longest moment, unblinking, before Sam answered, “You can. You will. Because I haven’t done all those things I promised you I would do.”
Dean’s breath hitched. There was no hesitation in Sam, no asking for permission. Just a statement of fact.
A sudden ‘clank’ in the room drew his attention from his brother and he looked over, to the floor where his jeans lay. His hand slipped from Sam’s hair as he watched, a little bit scared, a little bit aroused, as his leather belt wormed it’s way out of the loops, by itself. He knew that it was Sam manipulating it with his powers, and the ease, the effortlessness of it all hit him full force when Sam returned to licking and biting all around his chest. The belt floated towards the bed and stopped just inches from them, floating two feet over the floor.
It was so surreal, it took Dean a moment to notice that Sam now had both his wrists in his hands. His eyes snapped towards Sam, but the black eyes didn’t betray a thing.
“Don’t worry Dean. You’ll like it.”
Using his considerable strength, he pushed Dean’s hands over his head, pressing them flat into the pillow. The belt flapped through the air and with a sift hissing sound wrapped itself around Dean’s forearms tightly. One end twisted around the iron in the headboard.
He was helpless, at Sam’s mercy and it sent a sliver of arousal down his spine. There was no way he could get hard again. No fucking way.
He watched his brother lower his hand again to his chest, sucking and nipping at his over sensitive flesh and thought that maybe that was the deal. Maybe Sam wanted him like this, helpless, unable to even get hard when he fucked him again. Wanted Dean to feel every single thing, without distractions.
He shuddered when Sam laved at his navel and then slid quickly to his cock. It hurt, but was also pleasant when Sam took the spent organ into his mouth and sucked very, very gently. To his amazement Dean felt something he has never felt. He was getting into it, arousal pooling low in his belly while his cock stayed limp and spent. Not even a twitch in it. Sam seemed intent on doing this again, and quite seriously he couldn’t really blame him for it. After all, Sam did most of the work and came only once. And he was four years younger than Dean.
Dean’s eyes snapped open when he felt fingers touching his hole. It was pulsing, hurting a bit and shit, but even the slightest touch hurt. But it also sent pleasant shivers up his spine at the memory of how a cock in there felt.
He pulled at his bonds, hearing the leather creak in protest, as Sam pushed two fingers inside. The burn made him choke back a whimper. Sam wasn’t thrusting this time, his fingers went straight for Dean’s prostate and pressed.
This time Dean shouted, his back arching off the bed and hand pulling at the belt until it bit hard into his skin. And that addition, small pain tilted the scale somehow. Suddenly his heart sped up, his mouth became dry and he shifted his legs, gathering Sam between his thighs.
“Yes,” he whispered hoarsely. “Do it now.”
Sam stopped his gentle nursing on his cock and moved up the bed, his hands sliding over the trembling thighs until he could pull them up so that Dean closed his legs over Sam’s waist.
Without a word this time, Sam positioned his already hard cock and pressed into the small, swollen ring of muscle. Dean was so full of lube and come, his passage relaxed and open from the work out it got before, that Sam slid right it, to the hilt in one effortless move.
Dean screamed, it hurt. Hurt so damn much. But he was no longer capable of discerning pain from pleasure. So, he screamed hoarsely again and flexed his legs, pulling Sam in even deeper, almost passing out at the feeling of the hard cock inside him brushing over his prostate.
Sam leaned down, resting his weight on his hands, braced on both sides of his brother's head and moved. He thrust in and out slowly, letting his dick slide almost all the way out until only the flared head stayed inside, stretching the abused muscle ruthlessly, before sliding slowly in. He did it again and again, until Dean felt wetness falling from the corners of his eyes. he never felt this way, this disconnected from reality, so earthy, so mortal; in his body wracked with desires, his mind was no longer capable of comprehending. He felt tension and pressure like he was close to coming but his dick was still soft, laying on his stomach, forgotten.
“Look at me,” Sam forced out, between clenched teeth and Dean complied, opening his eyes.
It was hard, focusing his eyes, when his brain was being turned into mush from all the sensations. The friction and pressure, the want, need, desire and fucking heat that was almost killing Dean.
Sam was above him, muscles in his arms bunched, flexing with every slow, deep thrust. His skin was flushed, slick with sweat. As he looked into his brothers face he saw the alien black eyes staring at him with such heat he felt his breath catch, the black lines were even starker now. Droplets of sweat were scattered over his face, rolling down from his forehead onto his nose, stopping at the sharp point of Sam’s nose, before falling down. Straight on Dean’s lips.
He licked the salty droplet, unable to resist tasting his brother. They were both panting, bodies straining and in that moment Dean knew, was absolutely sure, that his brother was still alive, still there, still strong. Because somewhere behind that darkness, that bottomless blackness, Dean saw love.
Suddenly Sam changed the pace, his thrusts becoming erratic and hard, eliciting another scream out of Dean. The older Winchester was so close, he just needed… something, to push him over the edge. But his cock was still only partially hard with no hope for more. His hands, tied so securely above his head were making him feel helpless and vulnerable, the belt cutting into his skin, leaving angry marks that would be bruised by tomorrow, but he didn’t care. He just needed to come, needed to release the tension in his body or he felt like he would die. Suddenly Sam wrenched one hand free, using only one hand to brace himself and reached between their bodies. He cupped Dean’s whole cock and balls in his large hand, closing his fingers over the genitals and massaged firmly, pressing and releasing in a rhythm matching his thrusts.
It was enough. Dean arched his back so hard he felt something pop and opened his mouth to scream but Sam lunged down and closed his mouth over Dean’s, muffling the agonized scream of release. His cock pulsed but produced no come, still soft. Dean experienced the most amazing, unbelievable sensation of coming with his whole body not only his member. It seemed that every pore, every cell of his body pulsed, releasing the tension, swamping his brain with pleasure he couldn’t comprehend nor process. He felt Sam slamming one last time inside him and then scalding heat covering his insides as his eyes rolled back in his head. Neither his mind, nor body were capable of enduring this kind of input and they simply shut down, sending him falling into soft, safe darkness.
TBC
A/N : The use of the belt was for [info]mackeygenius. I promised you a kink, didn’t I?
A/N 2: Do you realize that this sex scene is two chapters long and consist of approximately 8 800 words? It’s a monster. Never again something this long! I wrote it for almost four days!!!!!!
