The reflection of broken, Dean/Dean, NC-17 2/2
The reflection of broken 2/2
Pairing: 2009!Dean/2014!Dean
Rating: Nc-17
Warnings: AU, angst, incest or masturbation (depending on your look on Dean fucking himself), graphic M/M, language, [bottom Dean, and while were at it top!Dean ;)] Spoilers up to 5x04
Disclaimer: I do not own the boys, I just took them out to play.
Word Count: ~11 g
Author's notes: I started writing this thing after seeing 5x04 first promopics and continued through the promos intending to publish it just before 5x04 aired but my net connection died on me and it never got there and after seeing the actual episode most of my concepts seemed ridiculous and I cast it all aside. A while later I came back to this treading as any other AU - while it has some cross points with the original (the scenes from the promos) most of it is still quite different from the actual episode.
Dedicated to my beautiful and kind big_heart_june who shares my pervy love for Dean/Dean :D
Betad by quick and sharp casiedearestfic Thank you for helping me out of the pit with this one! :)
He followed the other man to the cabin and while he lit the candles (Electricity was more of a luxury around here as Cas had earlier explained), future Dean disappeared into the other room, presumably kitchen, and came back with a bottle of clear liquid and two shot glasses in his hand. He put them down on the table and finally took off his green military-jacket, visibly wincing as he had to raise his shoulders to get it off.
Dean wanted to ask if he was hurt but he decided it could wait until he got some booze into him. The older Dean unbuttoned his green shirt and folded it before placing it on the nearby shelf. Well this was something new - Dean had never been the OCD kind. Sam maybe yeah, but Dean… He was always the one who ate messy, hunted messy and sure as hell didn’t keep order in his stuff.
The silence between them stretched as both Deans sat down behind the table and filled their glasses. Future Dean raised his to a salute, sending Dean a long look he really didn’t wannabe subjected to. Then…
“Here’s to screwing up and screw ups.”
Dean grind his teeth but still emptied his glass after nodding it to him.
So this was the game huh? Turned out inside they weren’t that different at all…
He still thinks he did something wrong and caused all this and he hates me cause he sees me so weak and pathetic, like he used to be, like he still is. He sees the man who couldn’t save his brother and who let this become his life.
And was he even wrong? Our brother is out there, meatsuit to the Devil.
They both drowned the second and third glass in the silence, before:
“You can’t do it.”
Dean sent him a glare. Could the dude read his mind? Well, his own mind, a younger version of his own mind? Shit, this thing was confusing.
“Sammy.” The name was laced with grief as it came over his doubles lips and for a second he looked more sad than angry at the world.
The guy drowned his fourth shot before continuing:
“You can’t save him like that. Becoming Michael’s meatsuit would only help them destroy the world.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Dean angrily bit back, rolling the empty glass in his hands. He felt the annoyance grow in him and he knew he needed to get it out: “You are looking at me like I killed your puppy and all this stuff…”
Dean swallowed.
“Man - I wished to God I knew what to do not to have this future. To save myself from turning into…”
Dean stopped - would insulting himself really solve anything?
He let out a breath instead and shook his head, focusing his gaze on the scratched tabletop.
Talking about Sammy, their family, it was too painful.
He heard the soft sound of body shifting as the other man tried to get more comfortable in his seat before he spoke again. His voice not so harsh this time.
“I can’t trust anyone. Haven’t trusted in years now. Maybe Cas but…”
“… He’s an angel. Was and always will be.” Dean finished for him, fixing his gaze with the other again.
He knew how he worked, how he thought.
“Permission to speak freely?”
Well it had been hard, but Dean had finally got the future Dean to smirk.
“What do you want?”
Dean pursed his lips, pouring both their glasses full before continuing.
“Well… First of all I would like to know what the heck we are drinking? I think besides Bert and Ernie being gay we can be quite sure this stuff isn’t Tequila.”
Older him shrugged, rising his glass for another salute: “Here’s to Cas and his moonshine making skills.”
Dean was quite sure he looked as shocked as he felt: “Cas, seriously?”
But that didn’t really stop him from drinking the fiery liquid and licking the last traces from his mouth and lips.
Future Dean shrugged: “The man knows his stuff.”
Another moment of just the candle flames dancing and casting shadows on the walls and both of them enjoying the way warm buzz from the drinks was sinking into their bodies and mind.
Future Dean finally spoke again, obviously uncertain and uncomfortable but still determined to get this out of the way.
“About the other stuff…”
Keep it casual.
Dean pursed his lips and asked.
“The trust thing… Is that why you’re, erm, not getting laid by all those beautiful women right now?”
Dean thought he could almost understand what was going on - well yes, occasionally sex was good just for the sake of sex but the best times of his life had still been with those few women he could trust or at times when he could put hunting aside and just enjoy himself. Not like you can put aside a damn Apocalypse and the Croat virus for your love life. But that still didn’t explain why couldn’t they go and enjoy some nice meaningless threesome right now.
The other Dean fixed his look on the table: “Well part of it - yes. I have had more assassination attempts than anyone else in this camp. But part of it is…”
He paused, running a hand through his hair.
“Our blood is cursed - that’s how they do it. That’s how we got chosen to be vessels. Cause of our blood.”
Dean frowned, not sure he fallowed the thought.
“I… We can’t reproduce. We can’t spread this poisoned blood, give them another generation to fuck up, to use for their games.”
Oh, that…
“Dude - do I really need to freshen your memory about the fact sex is not only for making babies?” Dean asked, considering if maybe his future self had managed to go senile in just five short years.
The other Dean only huffed frustrated: “In your world it isn’t. In here we could go grab some condoms from the local groceries store… only wait a minute - there is no such thing as stores anymore, not to mention the factories don’t work.”
Sarcasm, his best shield.
“So… You’re like having… celibacy?”
Dean wasn’t sure if he should be amused, shocked or sympathetic. He would have loved to laugh… Hell - he would have been sure the dude was shittin' him if he hadn’t been for the look on his weary face. A look of defeat and pain and just plain ol' longing.
His future-self slowly nodded as a response to Dean’s question and stretched himself to pour them new shots, his face again twisting with pain when he moved too suddenly.
“You hurt?” Dean asked, feeling the same parental streak in him he usually did for Sammy.
Sam.
Should have never let that stupid fuck take off on his own. My fault.
“Stop the drama - I’m fine.” His double grumbled and sent him a pointed glance.
“It’s me, I mean - I am you - That sarcasm of yours won’t work on me cause it’s my sarcasm too.”
Dean’s twin sent him the weirdest kind of look but didn’t argue. After a moment of exchanging stares and drowning their drinks he admitted with an eyeroll: “My back, Dr. House. It’s giving me Hell lately. I took a fall few years ago when angels finally figured out they couldn’t use me and tried to destroy me to avoid me from falling into enemy’s hands.
“You’re still alive.” Dean noted. He knew the only thing to make angels back off a set task would be to kill them. And only another angel could kill an angel. You would need a very powerful angel to kill many angels at once.
“Yeah, well, only thanks to Cas. He took Him in his vessel for a moment, just long enough for Michael to smite them off me and Cas to… He… It was too much for him and Jimmy. A part of him… I think is still lost. ”
Dean listened in silence, not knowing what to say.
He had never been a sharing-caring kind of guy. So why the Hell was he assuming his future version would be?
So he just cleared his throat, returning to their previous subject: “So that back of yours. Any way I could have a look?”
“It’s just sore muscles.”
God, the guy was stubborn.
“You know dad taught us some massage and you patched my side up so I think it’s only fair I return the favor.”
Reluctant shift of jaw and a cold stare was all the answer he got.
Dean didn’t let that stop himself as he cheerfully asked: “So…You’ve got any massage oil or something?”
Future Dean sent him an annoyed smirk: “Massage oil? Well gee, I’m sure I have plenty of it stored away right next to my fluffy pink pillows.” He rolled his eyes: “Try the kitchen. I think I have some oil for my guns stashed there.”
Dean nodded.
“Take off your shirt and lie on the bed.”
He then stood and turned away quickly, resisting the urge to check out what his body actually looked like through others eyes. Instead he went straight to the small kitchen and searched trough disgustingly neatly organized drawers. Monk. Soon finding a small bottle of pleasantly smelling oil. Definitely not like any gun oil he had ever seen. Dean thought it was for the best if he didn’t wonder too hard why his future self owned something like that and made his way back to the main and also as it seemed, bedroom, with a victorious glee, ready to tease his future self about the oil some more and…
Wow.
Dean froze in his place by the doorframe as he stared at the sight in front of him.
Oh, the guy had taken off his shirt alright, he was now lying on the bed on his back, his eyes closed and his torso and arms bare, skin a bit paler than Dean’s but smooth just the same. Well smooth where there wasn’t any scars and this guy had plenty of em in different sizes and shapes.
And his muscles - Damn. Dean had always thought he was pretty fit but seeing his body all sculpted up like this…
“If I had known I could get that packed I would have laid off the gummy-bears a long time ago.”
His future self didn’t open his eyes but looked smug all the same.
He, I like praise.
I seriously need to start using my extent knowledge of the guy.
Dean swallowed then, uncertain for a moment if this was a good idea after all. The small gun rubbing incident outside…
Come on - get real. This is just you. Dean said to himself, waving off the uneasy thoughts and pulling off his own shirt too. It seemed like it was getting hotter in here. Maybe it was just the booze or maybe…
Whatever.
He reached down and took off his boots, considering weather or not to point out that he couldn’t really rub his twins back in the position he was lying in.
Maybe it was better just to improvise.
Dean crawled onto the bed, slightly hesitating before propping himself to sit on the other man’s narrow hips.
A small half grunt escaped his twins pout mouth and yeah, hello, thinking your own mouth looked sexy as hell? That was a bit weird even for someone as messed up as Dean. And could somebody please explain why his breath was shaking so hard?
He was just helping out the guy, right? Letting him suffer would have been a douchy thing to do, wouldn’t it?
Dean licked his lips and reached over for the oil bottle, carefully pouring some of its content into his palm, then rubbing his hands together and leaning down to work on the tense muscles on the other man’s neck and shoulders. The skin under his searching touch felt soft and hot, Dean’s skilled fingers instantly registering tense muscles and starting to untangle them.
He was just starting to put more pressure onto the broad shoulders when first strangled moan escaped the identical body under him.
Dean pretty effectively dismissed the sound as just a result of his good masseur skills but as he worked his way a bit lower… He couldn’t resist the urge to trace the shape of the pentagram tattoo with his fingertips and think that the tat actually suited him pretty well.
Then he felt out the strong pecks and yeah - he was definitely gonna be hitting gym more. Touching this body felt both like violating and a natural right to him at the same time. It was his body after all, just five years from where he was now. Dean had to bite his lip as he couldn’t help but to tease some, dragging his nails over the perky nipples and listening with satisfaction how his older self moaned.
Jesus - maybe the guy really hadn’t gotten laid in years?
And he couldn’t stop, his brain telling him he should move on but his fingers rolling the nice dark buds and twisting them.
Maybe he was too drunk for his own good or just out of his freakin mind, he only knew that he felt a strange fascination sparkle in him, waking something deep inside him, something big and hungry.
Playing with the man’s nipples earned Dean a long dragged out moan, the one he usually made in bed when girl was really good. Nipples had always been his soft spot.
But enough of fooling around. He needed to fucking stop and do what he was supposed to do.
He reluctantly moved further down, letting his fingers draw out the lines of the six-pack before putting more force into his movements and forcing the muscles to relax with his rubbing movements. He worked on the muscles all the way to the waistband of his jeans, then stopping and coming off the man so he could turn himself to lay face-down.
Jesus, Dean was pretty sure he was blushing hard when he discovered his shaft was already half-mast.
He breathed out, tiring to explain to himself that this was all normal.
Come on - he got a hard on over his own body every time he gave himself a handjob, right? So his body responding like this wasn’t really even too wrong, was it? Awkward maybe but not wrong.
It didn’t mean he was gay or anything. Just that he liked his own body.
The man who he was to become now lay with his face pressed to the pillow, eyes again closed and silently waited for Dean’s next move.
Dean used his hand to put some hard pressure on his dick to get it to calm the fuck down before he dared to sit down on the other man’s ass.
The back before him was board and taut, Dean adding some more oil to his hands to ease the friction before going to the hard work of untangling each and every knot he could find.
Geez - the guy was stressed out and tense. Not to mention the small strangled sounds and moans escaping his mouth from time to time sure as hell made Dean’s cock jump back to life. Great, just what he needed.
A hard on pressing against another man’s ass. His ass? Jeez - this was messed up.
“Feels nice.” A few actual words now as the older man was obviously enjoying himself. Voice still gruff but sounding more relaxed.
Dean just huffed and continued to work on his lower back.
Another moan, sounding just like the ones Dean made during sex. God his brain must have been wired really wrong to think the body under him was hot and his cock to… Oh my God - be fully hard? When the fuck had that happened?
“A bit lower,” Older Dean instructed him now.
“I can’t - your jeans are in the way,” Dean answered with a grin He was almost relived he had to stop the small massage session cause his dick was really pressing about finding a nice quiet corner and jerking off.
To his surprise, his older self just told him to get off him for a sec before he got up, removed his gunholster, unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them off along with his boxers. His cock sprung free, pointing upwards looking red and just as hard as Dean’s.
Dean could only stare at the man, twisted mirror image of himself, not quite believing what he was seeing.
“Is this better?” Future Dean asked, obviously smug and observing Dean’s reaction as he again laid down on his belly.
Dean had to swallow, feeling with deep unease how his usual cockiness was suddenly all gone.
This getting naked thing might have been a really bad idea. Like really bad cause his body instantly thought that hot naked body meant sex. Even if it was his own naked body.
Hot naked body with an impressive hard on.
“Something wrong?” Future Dean’s voice sound almost slurred as he lie completely still on the bed.
Dean pursed his lips.
This whole situation was fucked up.
Mostly cause it was the fucking future and that man was him, and he was doing nothing wrong touching himself and it was all Zach’s fault anyway.
So he guessed the big question was - did he wanted to stop?
He had never been the kind to back off from a dare.
Yeah - this and whatever was about to happen. It was all Zach’s fault.
He finally got a bit of his confidence and composure back as he answered: “I’m fine” and climbed back on the bed next to his clone, carefully sitting down besides the now bare ass and continuing his rubbing on the lower side of his twin's back, feeing quite glad the small grunts and “yes’s” he pulled out of him. The guy was really enjoying it and honestly - could he blame him if no one hadn’t given him a back massage in years, if no one had even touched him?
Dean pursed his lips slightly, his hand moving a bit lower to run a smooth open palm stroke over the perfect and firm ass check. Partly it was just tease and testing the water but a part of him… A part of him was thinking of really wrong things.
Thinking how lonely it must be for him to be without Sam and physically cut off from everyone around him.
Thinking about how this all was like a dream anyway.
He was a bit surprised when future Dean didn’t protested or downright throw him out when he touched his… their ass… loving the firm muscle and the round shape of it. So okay - maybe he did understood why girls liked him so much… observing his body from an outside point of view was sort of fascinating. He had never really thought much about what his ass would feel like under cautious fingertips. He knew very well he should have stopped, should have just stood up and put his shirt back on and go jack off somewhere private but instead he continued the small movements while speaking up: “You like this? You like it when I touch you?”
The man under his hands slowly nodded, not rising his head from the pillow or saying anything but Dean could see his eyes were open now.
“And I’m the only one who can do that? That’s why you crowded me earlier - cause I’m the only one you can really trust?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing: “Man - I mean - I know myself. I can do some without -- but friggin' years with just handjobs or sex spent fearing she might be a traitor? No wonder you become a bit desperate for this.”
Dean quickly swallowed, his mind racing a hundred miles a minute. He wasn’t sure if he should do it. Maybe he was gonna get his ass kicked. Maybe he had read the signals wrong. But he had read about buttsex in some chick magazine a while ago and he knew he had been sorta curious about it since it said it would amplify the orgasm in levels. But, he hadn’t really considered doing it.
Until now.
It felt as if his fingers almost automatically dipped to the dark crack between his ass cheeks and then he was gently but firmly pressing down on the other man’s center, almost jumping out of his skin when his future version let out an unexpectedly loud gasp and gaped for air.
Dean froze for a second, afraid that he might have hurt him somehow or just pissed him off, but instead, his future self let a muffled moan and whispered into the pillow: “Fuck. Please.”
Dean couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face.
This might work out after all.
“I’m thinking that that bastard excuse of an angel, Zachariah, must be watching us. So how about we put on a little show for him?” He grasped the buttcheek under his left palm firmly, smiling knowingly before continuing, “while giving you a little something you need?”
The man under his hands didn’t respond anything, just slightly parted his legs in invitation.
Dean still wasn’t sure what the Hell he was doing but it felt right and he knew this was about the only good thing he could give to his future self and hey - if it also meant pissing Zach off and getting himself a nice new experience he was all into it.
And no. He was soo not gay. He was just curious and it was just himself so where the fuck was the gay factor there?
Okay - yes - maybe imagining what a tight ass encircling him would feel was a bit gay but still… He had just gotten more creative with jacking off, that’s all. It was still just his own body he was using to get off until he found another nice girl.
Dean decided not to think about the confusing details any longer but to act, so he dripped some of the oil he had used for the massage earlier onto his fingers and the tight hole under them, getting another strangled moan from the man before he started to rub around the hole, slowly and carefully teasing the pink rim until his future self relaxed and Dean dared to press the tip of his index finger inside, testing the heat and silky walls that welcomed him.
“God…” It seemed future Dean’s vocabulary had decreased to muttered curses and prayers.
Time to see if he still liked the dirty talk.
“You like it, don’t you? You like the idea that I’m testing your tight ass - thinking about how to fuck you?”
Dean didn’t have to look to know he was biting his lip. Didn’t have to look to see how sweat was pooling on his face or to know how much it took of him to restrain himself and lay still under his hands.
He could almost sense the raw hunger in him - hunger for a good fuck, for that small human contact, for the feeling of losing himself in the bliss of physical pleasure and forget everything else.
And Dean couldn’t deny that to him, to himself, when he knew how desperately he needed it.
He pressed himself flush against the other's back, feeling every inch of sweat and oils slick skin as he licked a slow trace up his shoulder blade and bit down on the juncture of neck and shoulder.
A totally girly whimper.
Dean couldn’t help but to grin at that. Yes - he knew himself too well. Knew where he liked to be touched. Knew each and every sound he made.
Dean was working a second finger in along the first, feeling his future self lose his cool composure as he shamelessly thrust back on his fingers and growled something that sounded like: “More.”
Dean grinned against his salty skin. “Don’t worry - I won’t leave you hanging there, gorgeous.”
“Screw you.” Future Dean grunted, sounding pleasantly frustrated to Dean’s ears.
And with that he licked his lips and poured some more oil on his fingers before thrusting three of them in without any warning.
Future Dean made a small noise, surprise, pain and pleasure all mixed into one.
“Douchbag,” He grumbled through his teeth with no real malice.
Dean snorted at that. He couldn’t believe what a martyr he was pretending to be.
“Yeah - like you wouldn’t wanna see how much I can take? How quickly I can work my fingers in without breaking myself? Admit it - you are just as much of a douchebag as I am.”
Future Dean just wiggled a bit around his fingers and Dean reached to run a soothing hand over his back. Teasing aside he didn’t really wanna hurt himself. This was not what this was about.
He worked his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, finally relaxing a bit more himself too as he saw that he wasn’t in danger of hurting this other Dean but the bastard kept pushing back on his fingers and making those whose throaty noises that went straight to Dean’s prick.
Dean grinned as he realized that the small nub he’d been teasing with his fingertips must have been the prostate -small bundle of nerves connected straightly to his brains pleasure centre and cock.
The feeling of tight, hot ass clenching and unclenching around his fingers was almost enough to send Dean over the edge, and he had to press down the heel of his hand to strain himself. He felt almost like a horny teenage boy with raging hormones again, his dick having a mind of its own and his upstairs brain as blank as a white page.
“Fuck me already or I swear to god I’m gonna come just like this.” Future Dean warned him and Dean nodded. As much as it would have been fun to let him come with just his fingers, he wanted to know what it would be like - to be inside him. To feel him coming around him, to come inside him.
Future Dean pushed himself up on all fours, his sweat covered body looking perfect in the soft candle light.
Dean reluctantly pushed himself up from the bed for a moment to remove his jeans and underwear, the cool air suddenly rushing around his achingly hard member, easing him a bit.
He stared at his double on the bed, his mind racing.
He looked sexy as hell on all fours, his hole looking slick and ready, just waiting for him, but at the same time Dean felt like there was something he was missing, like something was still a bit off.
He climbed back on the bed, trying to keep his voice casual as he said: “On your back.”
The other Dean sent him a disbelieving glance over his shoulder and opened his mouth to say something but Dean effectively cut him off by landing an open handed slap on his ass.
Future Dean startled slightly but didn’t make a sound so Dean coaxed him: “Come on now, Grumpy. I know it would hurt a bit more but I’m sure a soldier boy like you wouldn’t fear a little pain now would you?”
Future Dean grunted, and if looks could kill, Dean would have already been on his way to meet the reaper, but instead he pressed close to the others ear, his dick giving a twitch at the feel of how he was trembling under his touch, whispering: “Now, Dean. Or I will make you.”
Dean was bluffing and well aware that they both knew it after the small wrestling match earlier but something inside him was forcing him to say the words, telling him that it would work.
And true to his gut feeling, the older version of him gave him a slight shudder and Dean yanked his head back by his short hair, roughly turning him around and shoving him on his back.
He was topping his twin again in a heartbeat, straddling him and pressing him down into the mattress as he licked the side of his face, feeling the long lashes flutter against his cheek before he moved lower over the sharp cheekbone, pressing a light kiss to his freckled nose before finally claiming the pretty mouth.
The kiss started a bit rough, both of them struggling for control but they soon found the right pace, identical mouths licking and nibbling, tasting each other. None of them stepping back, both fierce and fighting for dominance.
Future Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, caressing it with his tongue, brining a lazy grin to Dean’s face.
Yeah - he was definitely a good kisser.
He felt the powerful hands roaming over his shoulders and neck, pressing him closer and he wasn’t sure anymore which one of the muffled sounds belonged to him and which to his twin as their bodies ground together in a perfect match. Their cocks were caught between the sweaty drag of their bellies and Dean could feel his twin’s rock hard shaft pulsing in time with his own.
“So good.” He whispered between kisses, reaching down and slicking himself up with the last of oil before urging the other Dean’s legs apart and settling between them.
Dean took a deep breath as he stared eye to eye with the five years older version of himself.
So many things he could say. That his twin could say. A thousand words. And yet the moment passed in complete silence and everything that needed to be said was somehow said. Nothing left separating them and Dean wasn’t sure if he was ready for that broken man that looked back at him.
He wanted to say he was sorry but he kept silent cause he knew there was no point in saying what they both already knew. Nor was he sure what he was the most sorry about. About letting Sammy drift away from them? About letting his little brother down and starting the apocalypse? About being the stubborn jerk and refusing to say yes to Michael? About his whole god-damn life ending up the mess it was right now?
And then there was a slight tug at his waist, as future Dean tugged him closer and pulled him down for another mind blowing kiss, paralyzing all his thinking.
God, he was needy. …Or maybe they were both needy.
Dean bit down on the other man’s lip as he thrust his hips blindly forward, running on pure instinct now as he propped the mans legs up over his shoulders, giving a easier access to his member and pushing his darkened head just against the slick entrance.
There wasn’t even a need to ask for a final okay as Dean knew himself - if he had been anything but okay with this situation he would have already kicked his ass. So he just pushed forward, careful first as 2014 Dean couldn’t smother a grunt of discomfort and the muscles around him felt incredibly tight. Then, slowly, little by little, the muscles eased, still pulsing but feeling lose enough for him to slip in inch by inch until he bottomed out and their bodies were flush together.
“Dude - you’re…” He pulled a face, his sex hazed mind still wrapping itself around the fact that he was fucking himself. Talking with himself “…we’re tight,” Dean chuckled to his partners ear, his voice slightly out of breath with the restrain it took him not to move or come right there and then.
It felt fucking amazing.
Future Dean didn’t miss a heartbeat before pushing back: “Yeah? Well have you ever considered maybe we're just too big for our own good?”
Dean opened his mouth but future Dean cut him off, growling: “Man, I swear I’m gonna smack your pretty face right now if you even try to make a lame “Screw yourself” joke about this situation.”
At the same time he slightly rolled his hips, encouraging Dean to move, the younger man moaning as he felt the tight and slick velvety walls move around him.
This was so much better than he had imagined it would feel. And without even thinking, his hips slowly picked up a steady pace as future Dean locked his ankles tight behind his neck and grabbed hold of his arms.
Dean had had his fair share of women over the years but he hadn’t been so close to coming so fast since he had been sixteen and that had been only hormones raging and a very pretty cheerleader. But this… the way his twin’s ass was milking him, how each and every move and sound they made matched each other was something far beyond anything he had ever experienced. It was so different and yet familiar and intimate in an almost disturbing way.
“Fuck,” He managed, as his hips pumping in a frantic rhythm, rocking the body in his hands and making 2014 Dean screw his eyes shut and desperately reach out, gripping and twisting the bed sheets under his hands while his hips pushed up to Dean.
Dean had to struggle to actually speak when he could feel his orgasm nearing, his body tensing and the familiar heavy warmth coiling in his balls.
He pressed his lips against his twins ear, whispering the words as a dirty secret: “So fucking pretty. All needy for my dick. I hope Zachariah is watching so he can see how I’m gonna cum in my own ass and how it’s gonna ooze out later.”
Future Dean let out a strangled noise and mouthed an almost inaudible “want it” as Dean slammed his hips a few more fast thrust before completely losing it and just pounding into the heat of the willing body under him.
1024 Dean came on his dick with a muffled shout, his whole body tensing and convulsing around Dean, Dean’s own orgasm ripping through his system at the sensation. The two men just clung to each other, strong fingers leaving bruising marks as they rode out their aftershocks and gasped in union.
Dean felt his future version press his face to the crook of his neck as he collapsed forward, body spent and boneless. He could feel the cheek pressed against his skin was dampening and he could feel the other shiver under him and for a moment he felt lost and remorseful. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Make a snarky remark and tell the guy to pull his shit together? That’s what his dad had always done - and it had worked and a part of his was desperate to do anything to get as far away from here as he could, to forget and forsake the man in his arms. To maybe remind his that this was not what good soldiers were supposed to do. But at the same time could feel the grief in him, he knew it, cause it was also in him and after watching world getting torn apart cause of his fault he couldn’t really imagine how that feeling would have grown. How it would feel.
It would feel like drowning, like dying.
“Hey - it’s okay.” He softly whispered into others short and soft strands, petting his back, not really sure what the Hell he was doing. Somehow all of the times he had ever comforted Sammy swimming back up in his mind.
He had always been the one doing the comforting. Dad, Sammy, didn’t matter. He had been the one to say things will be alright and even now the only person to comfort this broken future version of him was himself.
Alone.
“We’ll find a way to fix this - I promise.” He said, not sure how the fuck he was gonna manage that one but he was willing to say almost anything to comfort the man whose heart was beating rapidly against his own.
“No - it’s not okay. I…I haven’t told you everything.” His doubles voice had lost some of its hard edge, but he still sounded gruff. Worn. He was tired. Tired and deprived of almost anything that had been good in his life; that had made him human.
“I know were Sammy is. And I think I know how to kill him.”
The End.