SPN Fic: Five Injuries Dean Got While Having Sex with Sam
Title: Five Injuries Dean Got While Having Sex with Sam (and One Time Sam Kissed It Better)
Author: D. (abrupte)
Rating: R.
Fandom: Supernatural.
Genre: Fluffy schmoop.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Wordcount: 950ish.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Duh.
Summary: Sometimes things don't always go as planned -- Dean's turn.
A/N: I knew when I wrote Five Injuries Sam Got While Having Sex with Dean, that clex_monkie89 would want this one next. So here it is. Again, just for fun, barely edited at all, probably has typos and such, but it's just a fun piece, so I've decided not to care.
†
One.
"Sam, stop," Dean murmurs, wincing a little. "Sammy, dude, enough." Dean's not sure exactly how long Sam's been sucking him off, but it's been a long, long time, and like four orgasms or something, and the fact of the matter is that his cock is starting to get really fucking sore.
Sam mumbles something, it's kinda hard to tell what, what with his mouth being filled with Dean's dick. Sam doesn't seem to care that it's soft, and yeah, it'd feel really good if Dean didn't need like an hour's break right now, let himself rest. He eventually has to reach down and pull Sam up, his brother mumbling protests as he reaches to wrap his hand around Dean's tender dick.
"Jesus, Sam, enough. Okay? Please? Just for now. I'll suck you off, I'll give you a handjob, I'll do anything." Sam's still pouting. "Dude, my dick is getting sore, okay? I promise I'll let you get back to it, just give me an hour so I can actually get hard again. Alright?"
Sam seems to like that idea, or at least, he likes Dean's offer of actually having an erection for him to suck on and touch, so he flops back onto the bed with a contented sigh. "Alright."
Two.
Dean walks funny for a couple days after every time Sam tops him, and this time is no different. He's sore and achy, just wants to stay in bed all day because Sam's really too big for his own good. He lies on his side, sighing contently when Sam crawls into bed next to him, pressing his mouth against Dean's shoulder.
"How're you feeling?"
"You know how we get all that spam about penis enlargements?"
"Yeah."
"Think we could e-mail them back and ask about making your cock smaller? Just a little?" Sam laughs, then, and Dean rolls over to kiss him, saying, "I'm alright. I like it."
He does. Sam doesn't fuck him very often, prefers to have Dean on top of him, and Dean's okay with that. But he likes the way he can feel Sam for days afterwards, likes fucking Sam and still feeling the ache from when his brother was deep inside him.
"You don't really want me to shrink it?" Sam asks, and Dean shakes his head.
"No. I wouldn't change a thing."
Three.
They're close. They're so fucking close, both of them wound tight, Dean thrusting into him, his hand around his brother's cock, stroking hard and fast. He's got Sam's legs pushed up so that he can go deep, and Sam's rocking and groaning in that way that only Sam can, pressing feverish kisses against Dean's neck.
And then Sam comes, and his teeth are in Dean's shoulder, biting down hard so that Dean gasps out in pain and comes too, just like that. He collapses on top of Sam with his brother's teeth still in his flesh, and when Sam pulls away and kisses him, tongue forcing past his lips, Dean tastes blood.
His shoulder throbs dully. "That was fucking hot," he murmurs when they break apart. "Definitely put that on the do it again list."
Sam laughs, kissing Dean's neck. "Mm, okay."
Four.
Alright, so having sex on the floor was not the best idea ever. Sam still had his jeans half-on, but Dean's knees are pink with carpet burn.
Sam just laughs, says, "Could be worse, Dean. Could be your dick."
Dean pretty much agrees, but it doesn't make him bitch any less about the way his knees feel like they're on fire.
Sam finally blows him just to get him to shut up, and Dean decides that as injuries go, this one was totally worth it.
Five.
Dean's trying to shove himself back into his jeans and get them zipped up before the cop that pulled them over gets to the window. He doesn't want to know how what kind of ticket he'll get for receiving a handjob while driving.
The cop's almost there, and then, "FUCK!"
"Dean? Dean, what's wrong?" There's a tap on the window and Dean's face is white. Sam looks at him and at the cop peering in, whispers, "Dude, are you caught in the zipper?"
Dean nods, but fumbles to unroll the window. He finally gets it down, his eyes watering, and mumbles, "Good morning, officer." His voice is tight and pained.
"Are you alright, son?" he asks, leaning against the door.
Dean shakes his head. "Oh -- yeah, yeah, I'm peachy." He sounds pathetic.
The cop figures it out, probably from the way both Dean and Sam keep looking at Dean's crotch, and finally says, "I'm letting you boys go with a warning, but let this be a lesson to you."
"Yessir," Dean gasps, and when he walks away, Sam unzips him. Dean leans into him gratefully, murmuring fuckohfuckthathurts against his neck.
"I guess this means I don't get to finish that handjob, huh?" Sam murmurs.
Dean's dick still hurts when they get back to the motel. His fly's still undone because he was too traumatized to try zipping it up again. Sam helps him out of his jeans, gently guiding him over to the bed, and murmurs, "You okay?"
"Not sure yet."
"I'll buy you some jeans with a button fly," Sam promises softly, and Dean manages a smile. "Still hurt?"
Dean nods.
"Want me to kiss it better?"
Dean actually laughs then, reaching up to touch Sam's arm. "Best brother ever," he whispers.
As Sam leans down, presses a kiss against the red, swollen line on Dean's cock, he's pretty sure he feels better, at least a little. It still hurts when Sam opens wide and takes him in deep, but it gets harder and harder to focus on the pain.
Author: D. (abrupte)
Rating: R.
Fandom: Supernatural.
Genre: Fluffy schmoop.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Wordcount: 950ish.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Duh.
Summary: Sometimes things don't always go as planned -- Dean's turn.
A/N: I knew when I wrote Five Injuries Sam Got While Having Sex with Dean, that clex_monkie89 would want this one next. So here it is. Again, just for fun, barely edited at all, probably has typos and such, but it's just a fun piece, so I've decided not to care.
†
One.
"Sam, stop," Dean murmurs, wincing a little. "Sammy, dude, enough." Dean's not sure exactly how long Sam's been sucking him off, but it's been a long, long time, and like four orgasms or something, and the fact of the matter is that his cock is starting to get really fucking sore.
Sam mumbles something, it's kinda hard to tell what, what with his mouth being filled with Dean's dick. Sam doesn't seem to care that it's soft, and yeah, it'd feel really good if Dean didn't need like an hour's break right now, let himself rest. He eventually has to reach down and pull Sam up, his brother mumbling protests as he reaches to wrap his hand around Dean's tender dick.
"Jesus, Sam, enough. Okay? Please? Just for now. I'll suck you off, I'll give you a handjob, I'll do anything." Sam's still pouting. "Dude, my dick is getting sore, okay? I promise I'll let you get back to it, just give me an hour so I can actually get hard again. Alright?"
Sam seems to like that idea, or at least, he likes Dean's offer of actually having an erection for him to suck on and touch, so he flops back onto the bed with a contented sigh. "Alright."
Two.
Dean walks funny for a couple days after every time Sam tops him, and this time is no different. He's sore and achy, just wants to stay in bed all day because Sam's really too big for his own good. He lies on his side, sighing contently when Sam crawls into bed next to him, pressing his mouth against Dean's shoulder.
"How're you feeling?"
"You know how we get all that spam about penis enlargements?"
"Yeah."
"Think we could e-mail them back and ask about making your cock smaller? Just a little?" Sam laughs, then, and Dean rolls over to kiss him, saying, "I'm alright. I like it."
He does. Sam doesn't fuck him very often, prefers to have Dean on top of him, and Dean's okay with that. But he likes the way he can feel Sam for days afterwards, likes fucking Sam and still feeling the ache from when his brother was deep inside him.
"You don't really want me to shrink it?" Sam asks, and Dean shakes his head.
"No. I wouldn't change a thing."
Three.
They're close. They're so fucking close, both of them wound tight, Dean thrusting into him, his hand around his brother's cock, stroking hard and fast. He's got Sam's legs pushed up so that he can go deep, and Sam's rocking and groaning in that way that only Sam can, pressing feverish kisses against Dean's neck.
And then Sam comes, and his teeth are in Dean's shoulder, biting down hard so that Dean gasps out in pain and comes too, just like that. He collapses on top of Sam with his brother's teeth still in his flesh, and when Sam pulls away and kisses him, tongue forcing past his lips, Dean tastes blood.
His shoulder throbs dully. "That was fucking hot," he murmurs when they break apart. "Definitely put that on the do it again list."
Sam laughs, kissing Dean's neck. "Mm, okay."
Four.
Alright, so having sex on the floor was not the best idea ever. Sam still had his jeans half-on, but Dean's knees are pink with carpet burn.
Sam just laughs, says, "Could be worse, Dean. Could be your dick."
Dean pretty much agrees, but it doesn't make him bitch any less about the way his knees feel like they're on fire.
Sam finally blows him just to get him to shut up, and Dean decides that as injuries go, this one was totally worth it.
Five.
Dean's trying to shove himself back into his jeans and get them zipped up before the cop that pulled them over gets to the window. He doesn't want to know how what kind of ticket he'll get for receiving a handjob while driving.
The cop's almost there, and then, "FUCK!"
"Dean? Dean, what's wrong?" There's a tap on the window and Dean's face is white. Sam looks at him and at the cop peering in, whispers, "Dude, are you caught in the zipper?"
Dean nods, but fumbles to unroll the window. He finally gets it down, his eyes watering, and mumbles, "Good morning, officer." His voice is tight and pained.
"Are you alright, son?" he asks, leaning against the door.
Dean shakes his head. "Oh -- yeah, yeah, I'm peachy." He sounds pathetic.
The cop figures it out, probably from the way both Dean and Sam keep looking at Dean's crotch, and finally says, "I'm letting you boys go with a warning, but let this be a lesson to you."
"Yessir," Dean gasps, and when he walks away, Sam unzips him. Dean leans into him gratefully, murmuring fuckohfuckthathurts against his neck.
"I guess this means I don't get to finish that handjob, huh?" Sam murmurs.
Dean's dick still hurts when they get back to the motel. His fly's still undone because he was too traumatized to try zipping it up again. Sam helps him out of his jeans, gently guiding him over to the bed, and murmurs, "You okay?"
"Not sure yet."
"I'll buy you some jeans with a button fly," Sam promises softly, and Dean manages a smile. "Still hurt?"
Dean nods.
"Want me to kiss it better?"
Dean actually laughs then, reaching up to touch Sam's arm. "Best brother ever," he whispers.
As Sam leans down, presses a kiss against the red, swollen line on Dean's cock, he's pretty sure he feels better, at least a little. It still hurts when Sam opens wide and takes him in deep, but it gets harder and harder to focus on the pain.