Fic - Down, Down, Down (Dean/Sam) NC17
Down, Down, Down
Dean/Sam
NC17
900+ words
Notes: Filthy porn. Written for salt_burn_porn and the prompt: This sure ain't your average 'Alice in Wonderland' rabbit hole. Filling the public sex square for Kink Bingo.
Bingo Card
Somewhere in the middle of wendigos and haunted paintings, Dean decided fucking his little brother wasn’t adventurous enough and came up with a haphazard list of things he thought they should work into the everyday fucking and sucking and coming.
Sam’s pretty wary about the majority of it, mostly because he’s pretty sure Dean doesn’t know the first thing about enemas or if he’d really enjoy pissing on Dean. Mostly, he’s humoring him because, well, seeing Dean turned on by something almost always outweighs whatever terrible idea Dean’s come up with.
This isn’t so bad, Sam thinks. It’s not all that kinky, getting a blowjob in a shitty diner bathroom, but Dean seems really fucking into it, gripping Sam’s thighs and relaxing his jaw to take as much of Sam as he can. His eyes are watering and his cheeks are pink and Sam would back off, tell Dean to take it easy, except for the fact that Dean’s so obviously hard and loving it.
There have been hints all along, subtle and not so subtle signs of what Dean’s really looking for with his ridiculous list. Like the other night when Sam was riding Dean’s dick and Dean went completely still, coming like a shotgun when Sam shoved his wrists above his head, pinned him to the mattress, and mumbled against his mouth, “see, Dean, even when you’re fucking me you’re a shameless bottom.”
So Sam doesn’t back off. He follows the signs so clearly pointing the way, shoves his hand in Dean’s hair and pulls his head back. Sam’s way too close to coming, breath uneven and ragged, to sound as assertive as he’d like, but it doesn’t seem to matter all that much because Dean’s glassy-eyed and unfocused, breathing hard and shaking with it.
“Yeah,” Sam whispers, fisting his dick and smearing the head across Dean’s cheek, wet from Dean’s mouth and the fact he’s about to come. It leaves a mess on Dean’s pink skin and Sam’s hot all over. “Are you liking this, Dean? You love being on your knees for me, all but choking on my dick?”
Dean opens his mouth wide and pushes forward, very clearly trying to get Sam back in his mouth. That alone almost finishes Sam, how very plainly Dean wants this. Sam yanks Dean’s head back again, a little harder, pulling Dean just out of reach.
“No, Dean,” Sam says, not playing. “If we’re doing this, then you need to tell me it’s what you want.” He relaxes his hold and slides his hand down to cup Dean’s jaw, thumb rubbing the line of stubble. “It’s hot as hell, Dean, but only because you love it so much.”
Dean’s eyes are wet at the corners from the force of Sam’s dick against his gag reflex and his lips are obscene, wet and plush and swollen. He’s cupping himself through his jeans, Sam realizes, white knuckled like he’s trying to control himself.
“Sammy,” Dean says then, and his voice is gone, throat raw and voice hoarse. His tongue comes out, sliding along his bruised bottom lip and Sam watches as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter as he tastes Sam on his mouth.
“I want it,” Dean admits. Sam exhales sharply, nods once, and then he’s pulling Dean forward again. Dean takes Sam between his lips, sucks once. Sam’s grip tightens in Dean’s hair as he feels it building, hot and heavy from low in his gut. He pulls back leaving just the head between Dean’s lips.
“I’m going to come in your mouth,” he mumbles, “open a little more, let me see.”
Dean’s gripping his own thighs, fingers digging into denim. He makes a low noise, a groan or something needier, and his mouth falls open wider, the head of Sam’s dick resting just inside.
Sam’s watching Dean’s face, watching the way Dean’s looking at him. “Jesus, you’re gorgeous like this,” Sam whispers. He thumbs the corner of Dean’s mouth, touches the fleshy inside where it’s wet and hot and watches Dean react, eyes going darker, skin going splotchy pink.
Dean licks at Sam’s thumb and heat flashes through Sam quick and sudden and he’s coming, just like that. Dean doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move, just stays kneeling on that grimy floor, fingers digging into his thighs as Sam’s come fills up his mouth.
It’s one of the most intense orgasms Sam has ever had and he’s shaking with it, hunching in on himself. When he’s done, he’s still mostly hard.
“Show me,” he says, pulling back and nudging Dean’s mouth wide with fingers on his jaw.
Dean closes his eyes for a brief second, like he’s composing himself, but his mouth his wide open, pink except for Sam’s come pooled on his tongue. Sam opens his mouth to tell Dean what to do with it but Dean’s already swallowing, eyes on Sam as his throat works, taking it all.
It’s hot beyond words.
Sam pulls Dean up against him, hands cupping Dean’s face. “Shit, Dean, c’mere,” he whispers, licking at Dean’s lips. Dean’s hands come up, clutching at Sam, fingers twisted in Sam’s shirt, mouth open. He’s gone completely submissive against Sam and Sam’s not ready for how overwhelming it is that Dean trusts him like that.
“This is what you’ve been wanting?” Sam whispers against Dean’s lips. Just in case Dean’s changed his mind, in case he’s decided he doesn’t want what Sam’s willing to give him.
Dean nods and presses closer. “Yes, Sammy.”
Dean/Sam
NC17
900+ words
Notes: Filthy porn. Written for salt_burn_porn and the prompt: This sure ain't your average 'Alice in Wonderland' rabbit hole. Filling the public sex square for Kink Bingo.
Bingo Card
Somewhere in the middle of wendigos and haunted paintings, Dean decided fucking his little brother wasn’t adventurous enough and came up with a haphazard list of things he thought they should work into the everyday fucking and sucking and coming.
Sam’s pretty wary about the majority of it, mostly because he’s pretty sure Dean doesn’t know the first thing about enemas or if he’d really enjoy pissing on Dean. Mostly, he’s humoring him because, well, seeing Dean turned on by something almost always outweighs whatever terrible idea Dean’s come up with.
This isn’t so bad, Sam thinks. It’s not all that kinky, getting a blowjob in a shitty diner bathroom, but Dean seems really fucking into it, gripping Sam’s thighs and relaxing his jaw to take as much of Sam as he can. His eyes are watering and his cheeks are pink and Sam would back off, tell Dean to take it easy, except for the fact that Dean’s so obviously hard and loving it.
There have been hints all along, subtle and not so subtle signs of what Dean’s really looking for with his ridiculous list. Like the other night when Sam was riding Dean’s dick and Dean went completely still, coming like a shotgun when Sam shoved his wrists above his head, pinned him to the mattress, and mumbled against his mouth, “see, Dean, even when you’re fucking me you’re a shameless bottom.”
So Sam doesn’t back off. He follows the signs so clearly pointing the way, shoves his hand in Dean’s hair and pulls his head back. Sam’s way too close to coming, breath uneven and ragged, to sound as assertive as he’d like, but it doesn’t seem to matter all that much because Dean’s glassy-eyed and unfocused, breathing hard and shaking with it.
“Yeah,” Sam whispers, fisting his dick and smearing the head across Dean’s cheek, wet from Dean’s mouth and the fact he’s about to come. It leaves a mess on Dean’s pink skin and Sam’s hot all over. “Are you liking this, Dean? You love being on your knees for me, all but choking on my dick?”
Dean opens his mouth wide and pushes forward, very clearly trying to get Sam back in his mouth. That alone almost finishes Sam, how very plainly Dean wants this. Sam yanks Dean’s head back again, a little harder, pulling Dean just out of reach.
“No, Dean,” Sam says, not playing. “If we’re doing this, then you need to tell me it’s what you want.” He relaxes his hold and slides his hand down to cup Dean’s jaw, thumb rubbing the line of stubble. “It’s hot as hell, Dean, but only because you love it so much.”
Dean’s eyes are wet at the corners from the force of Sam’s dick against his gag reflex and his lips are obscene, wet and plush and swollen. He’s cupping himself through his jeans, Sam realizes, white knuckled like he’s trying to control himself.
“Sammy,” Dean says then, and his voice is gone, throat raw and voice hoarse. His tongue comes out, sliding along his bruised bottom lip and Sam watches as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter as he tastes Sam on his mouth.
“I want it,” Dean admits. Sam exhales sharply, nods once, and then he’s pulling Dean forward again. Dean takes Sam between his lips, sucks once. Sam’s grip tightens in Dean’s hair as he feels it building, hot and heavy from low in his gut. He pulls back leaving just the head between Dean’s lips.
“I’m going to come in your mouth,” he mumbles, “open a little more, let me see.”
Dean’s gripping his own thighs, fingers digging into denim. He makes a low noise, a groan or something needier, and his mouth falls open wider, the head of Sam’s dick resting just inside.
Sam’s watching Dean’s face, watching the way Dean’s looking at him. “Jesus, you’re gorgeous like this,” Sam whispers. He thumbs the corner of Dean’s mouth, touches the fleshy inside where it’s wet and hot and watches Dean react, eyes going darker, skin going splotchy pink.
Dean licks at Sam’s thumb and heat flashes through Sam quick and sudden and he’s coming, just like that. Dean doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move, just stays kneeling on that grimy floor, fingers digging into his thighs as Sam’s come fills up his mouth.
It’s one of the most intense orgasms Sam has ever had and he’s shaking with it, hunching in on himself. When he’s done, he’s still mostly hard.
“Show me,” he says, pulling back and nudging Dean’s mouth wide with fingers on his jaw.
Dean closes his eyes for a brief second, like he’s composing himself, but his mouth his wide open, pink except for Sam’s come pooled on his tongue. Sam opens his mouth to tell Dean what to do with it but Dean’s already swallowing, eyes on Sam as his throat works, taking it all.
It’s hot beyond words.
Sam pulls Dean up against him, hands cupping Dean’s face. “Shit, Dean, c’mere,” he whispers, licking at Dean’s lips. Dean’s hands come up, clutching at Sam, fingers twisted in Sam’s shirt, mouth open. He’s gone completely submissive against Sam and Sam’s not ready for how overwhelming it is that Dean trusts him like that.
“This is what you’ve been wanting?” Sam whispers against Dean’s lips. Just in case Dean’s changed his mind, in case he’s decided he doesn’t want what Sam’s willing to give him.
Dean nods and presses closer. “Yes, Sammy.”