FIC: Weeks of Waiting
Title: Weeks of Watching
Author: Demona
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: hands from iniq for salt_burn_porn's first round.
Warning: Pre-Series - underage Sam (15)
Summary: It was Dean’s hands that first drew Sam’s attention.
A/N: Not really sure that this thing makes a lick of sense, but um...yeah. Completely unbeta'd, forgive me.
It started with weapons. They were a way to pass the time for Dean; it also happened that John Winchester repeatedly drilled into his sons’ heads the importance of clean, functioning weapons at all time. Dean’s hands slid surely over the guns, stripping them piece by piece, cleaning them until they gleaned, and efficiently snapping them back together. Sam was fifteen, if the wind blew the right way, a pretty girl smiled in his direction, or his jeans rubbed against him, he got an erection. He honestly never expected his dick to swell at the sight of Dean’s sure hands sliding his knife over a whetstone. He couldn’t help but imagine Dean’s hands on him, his calloused fingers wrapping around Sam’s leaking cock, stroking until he spilled. A strangled whimper escaped Sam’s mouth and drew Dean’s attention.
“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked as he continued to sharpen the knife. His eyes meeting Sam’s as he trusted his hands, trusted years of muscle memory, to continue without watching what he was doing.
Sam flushed, cheeks burning at Dean’s attention. Dean just raised an eyebrow at Sam’s reaction and accompanied silence.
Sam’s blush deepened as he shifted in his seat on the couch, jeans tightening around his hard cock and a jolt of pleasure shot through him. “I’m fine,” he muttered. He hauled his textbook into his lap and willed his erection down enough that he could head to the bathroom without Dean noticing.
*~*
The Impala was empty as Sam approached, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and he caught it in his right hand. He ducked his head, checking through the window into the front and back seats, but Dean wasn’t there. Sam let out a frustrated sigh, dropping his backpack to the ground, and leaning back against the door. He knew Dean would flip out if he saw Sam leaning against the paint, but it wasn’t like Dean to just leave the Impala, especially when he was here to pick up Sam afterschool.
Sam studied the steady flow of students as they exited the high school on their way home. He was surprised when his eyes finally spotted Dean, standing at the corner of the building with a beautiful leggy blonde that Sam recognized as one of the senior class. Sam watched through the sea of people as Dean leaned in, one hand casually coming to rest on the girl’s hip, fingers sliding up under her shirt as he leaned in to whisper something in her ear. She laughed, tilted her head back to catch Dean’s eye as her tongue darted out to run along her lips. A spike of jealously shot through Sam as he watched her flirt with his brother.
Angry with himself over getting jealous of some girl, he ducked down to pick up his book bag intent on walking back to the crappy apartment they were staying in. Dean would realize sooner or later that Sam had bailed on him. Sure, he’d get a lecture, but he couldn’t stand to watch Dean put his hands on some girl, when he wanted to feel them on himself instead. As he looked back, his eyes immediately sought out Dean again. He was still leaning against the wall with the blonde, and his hand had moved further up her shirt.
He wondered what it was like to have Dean’s fingers sliding up his side, dragging his shirt up as he went. Slowly his dick started to harden in his jeans and Sam cursed under his breath. Just what he needed, to have to walk home with a hard-on. With one last angry look in Dean’s direction, Sam awkwardly placed his book bag in front of him and started making his way through the rest of students and toward the other side of town.
~*~
Sure fingers wrapped around Dean’s dick and pulled upwards, thumb catching the pre-come at the top of his dick and swirling it around. Sam’s dick throbbed and twitched in his boxers as he watched his brother get himself off mere inches away in the bed.
“You think I didn’t notice?” Dean whispered, breath hot against Sam’s cheek. Dean was radiating heat, sweat collecting at his temples as he continued to slowly slide his hand up and down, his cockhead disappearing and reappearing shiny with come.
All Sam could manage was a shrug and whimper. He’d been watching Dean’s hands forever, but only been aware of it these last few weeks. He watched as they cleaned weapons, as they fixed delicate parts under the Impala’s hood, as they disappeared under Susie Peterson’s shirt where the entire student body could see, and as they calmly dispatched one evil monster after another.
“Well you can watch all you want Sam,” Dean added and thrust his hips up into his fist and let out a little groan. His teeth sunk into his lower lip as he sped up the pace, rocking his hips to match the faster rhythm. It wasn’t long before Dean came, spurting all over his hand as he worked himself through it.
Sam quickly shoved his boxers down his thighs, leaving his cock hard against his bare stomach.
Tentatively he reached out, fingers sliding against Dean’s come covered hand as he pulled it away from Dean’s softening cock and towards his own. “Now, do me.”
Author: Demona
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: hands from iniq for salt_burn_porn's first round.
Warning: Pre-Series - underage Sam (15)
Summary: It was Dean’s hands that first drew Sam’s attention.
A/N: Not really sure that this thing makes a lick of sense, but um...yeah. Completely unbeta'd, forgive me.
It started with weapons. They were a way to pass the time for Dean; it also happened that John Winchester repeatedly drilled into his sons’ heads the importance of clean, functioning weapons at all time. Dean’s hands slid surely over the guns, stripping them piece by piece, cleaning them until they gleaned, and efficiently snapping them back together. Sam was fifteen, if the wind blew the right way, a pretty girl smiled in his direction, or his jeans rubbed against him, he got an erection. He honestly never expected his dick to swell at the sight of Dean’s sure hands sliding his knife over a whetstone. He couldn’t help but imagine Dean’s hands on him, his calloused fingers wrapping around Sam’s leaking cock, stroking until he spilled. A strangled whimper escaped Sam’s mouth and drew Dean’s attention.
“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked as he continued to sharpen the knife. His eyes meeting Sam’s as he trusted his hands, trusted years of muscle memory, to continue without watching what he was doing.
Sam flushed, cheeks burning at Dean’s attention. Dean just raised an eyebrow at Sam’s reaction and accompanied silence.
Sam’s blush deepened as he shifted in his seat on the couch, jeans tightening around his hard cock and a jolt of pleasure shot through him. “I’m fine,” he muttered. He hauled his textbook into his lap and willed his erection down enough that he could head to the bathroom without Dean noticing.
*~*
The Impala was empty as Sam approached, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and he caught it in his right hand. He ducked his head, checking through the window into the front and back seats, but Dean wasn’t there. Sam let out a frustrated sigh, dropping his backpack to the ground, and leaning back against the door. He knew Dean would flip out if he saw Sam leaning against the paint, but it wasn’t like Dean to just leave the Impala, especially when he was here to pick up Sam afterschool.
Sam studied the steady flow of students as they exited the high school on their way home. He was surprised when his eyes finally spotted Dean, standing at the corner of the building with a beautiful leggy blonde that Sam recognized as one of the senior class. Sam watched through the sea of people as Dean leaned in, one hand casually coming to rest on the girl’s hip, fingers sliding up under her shirt as he leaned in to whisper something in her ear. She laughed, tilted her head back to catch Dean’s eye as her tongue darted out to run along her lips. A spike of jealously shot through Sam as he watched her flirt with his brother.
Angry with himself over getting jealous of some girl, he ducked down to pick up his book bag intent on walking back to the crappy apartment they were staying in. Dean would realize sooner or later that Sam had bailed on him. Sure, he’d get a lecture, but he couldn’t stand to watch Dean put his hands on some girl, when he wanted to feel them on himself instead. As he looked back, his eyes immediately sought out Dean again. He was still leaning against the wall with the blonde, and his hand had moved further up her shirt.
He wondered what it was like to have Dean’s fingers sliding up his side, dragging his shirt up as he went. Slowly his dick started to harden in his jeans and Sam cursed under his breath. Just what he needed, to have to walk home with a hard-on. With one last angry look in Dean’s direction, Sam awkwardly placed his book bag in front of him and started making his way through the rest of students and toward the other side of town.
~*~
Sure fingers wrapped around Dean’s dick and pulled upwards, thumb catching the pre-come at the top of his dick and swirling it around. Sam’s dick throbbed and twitched in his boxers as he watched his brother get himself off mere inches away in the bed.
“You think I didn’t notice?” Dean whispered, breath hot against Sam’s cheek. Dean was radiating heat, sweat collecting at his temples as he continued to slowly slide his hand up and down, his cockhead disappearing and reappearing shiny with come.
All Sam could manage was a shrug and whimper. He’d been watching Dean’s hands forever, but only been aware of it these last few weeks. He watched as they cleaned weapons, as they fixed delicate parts under the Impala’s hood, as they disappeared under Susie Peterson’s shirt where the entire student body could see, and as they calmly dispatched one evil monster after another.
“Well you can watch all you want Sam,” Dean added and thrust his hips up into his fist and let out a little groan. His teeth sunk into his lower lip as he sped up the pace, rocking his hips to match the faster rhythm. It wasn’t long before Dean came, spurting all over his hand as he worked himself through it.
Sam quickly shoved his boxers down his thighs, leaving his cock hard against his bare stomach.
Tentatively he reached out, fingers sliding against Dean’s come covered hand as he pulled it away from Dean’s softening cock and towards his own. “Now, do me.”