SPN fic: Meanwhile, in the Batcave...
Title: Meanwhile, in the Batcave...
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word count:1500
Summary:Written for glovered Batcave fic and art comment fest. The prompt I choose is from lavishsqualor. Sam really wants Dean out of that old, deadperson's robe. Right. Now. It's PWP, probably the most dirty PWP I've ever written.
Warnings: NC-17 for sex, language, dirty talk, silliness. This is bottom!Dean.
Disclaimer:I do not own Supernatural and its characters, nor the Batcave. Sadly.
A/N:Unbeta'd. English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes and typos. And thanks to Tebtosca for letting me use her prelubed!Dean idea :D She's hilarious, and I wished I had half of her talent. <3
“You gonna take off the dead guy robe?”
Sam turned back to his desk without waiting for an answer.
Truth was, if Sam was honest with himself, he was kind of a bitch at the moment. He hadn’t slept at all last night, buried deep into books and old registries, kind of overwhelmed by how good it felt, how easy it was to forget the whole Amelia mess when he was sitting at a desk surrounded by stuff that was just waiting to be learn. Even Sam himself knew how geek it was for him to think that. Still…
A little fun. That was what Dean had asked when they had been Charlie’s valorous knights during the larping case. That night, they had celebrated the victory without even taking their makeup off, laughing like two teenagers and fucking in the most awesome way in one of the tent (which, in Sam’s opinion, was way much better than the angry sex that had followed Dean’s sudden reappearance from Purgatory. So. So, much better.)
And that morning, parading in a ridiculous robe with sleepers on his feet, suddenly appreciating music from the forties or whatever, that was still what Dean was asking. A little fun… but there were so many registries to go through and…
“Done,” Dean said behind him, and there was the soft noise of a piece of clothing falling on the ground.
Sam could imagine the smug look on his brother’s face. He did try to resist, but his dick disagreed with him, twitching feebly between his legs.
He turned back to look at Dean’s completely naked body, except for the slippers.
“Dean,” Sam rasped when he saw his brother’s hand trailing down his stomach until it wrapped around his half hard dick, stroking it with this strange affection Dean seemed to have for his own genitals.
Sam gasped. Dean’s pubis was completely bare, soft skin getting darker at the junction where his cock started.
Hell. Dean knew how much Sam loved it when he shaved. He didn’t do it often, and only for Sam’s sake because according to him, it was tricky, shaving the balls was a bitch, not to mention the skin around his anus. Last time, he thought he had sprained a muscle in his back because of the awkward position he had to hold. But god it was worth it. So, so worth it.
“Jesus,” Sam said, and he may have drooled a little. He took a step forward, but Dean raised his free hand to stop him.
“Hey. You can watch. That’s all.”
“Dean, don’t be a b-“
“What? A bitch?” Dean’s smile widen and he started to fondle his balls while his strokes on his quickly hardening cock became more insistent.
“Okay, sorry. I get your point. I’ve been going geek over all of this.”
“…Yeah…”
“Fuck. You shaved. Let me touch.”
Sam’s dick was practically screaming for release in the confine of his jeans. He was hypnotised by the movement of Dean’s hands, by the pink tint of his thick and long cock, and the skin of his balls that seemed so soft.
“Like I said,” Dean went on as if Sam hadn’t said anything at all. “The shower pressure is marvelous. I think I spend half an hour in there. Thinking about you and… wanna see something else?”
“God, yes.” Sam was already taking his jeans off. His dick was an obscene bulge in the front of his boxer briefs, and he pressed the palm of his hand hard on it, moaning at how good it felt.
Meanwhile, Dean had walked to the third table -the one Sam didn’t have time to cover in books yet- and god, he was bending over it, legs parted and head resting on his folded arms. Sam pulled off his shirt as quick as he could and stepped out of his underwear clumsily, in the less sexy strip-tease ever. He was hot, had started to sweat, and his mouth was watering quickly at the sight of Dean’s pale thighs and the white creamy skin of his ass.
“Any time now would be good,” Dean groaned.
Sam kneeled in front of Dean and saw something glistening along the crack of his ass. Now, it could be water but…
He parted Dean’s ass cheeks with both hands to expose his hole. He was shaved there as well and his anus was slightly swollen, a deep shade of pink and gleaming with lube.
“Opened myself for you,” Dean rasped, jutting his hips so that Sam could have a better view. He was starting to pant. When Sam rubbed the rim of his hole with a finger, he full on moaned and hit the table with his palm. “Geez… Felt so good, Sam. Couldn’t stop. Came all over the shower tiles just playing with my soft spot, thinking how nice it would feel when you would fuck me.”
“Dean,” Sam babbled, because his brain had apparently shut down and his dick was seriously considering taking control if he didn’t act on his brother’s dirty words like… yesterday.
“Come on, Sammy. Made it easy for you. You can just slip in.”
“Ugh,” Sam answered, using one hand to keep the cheeks parted and the other to rub the tip of his cock over Dean’s hole.
“Damn it,” Dean rasped. “Want it, Sam.”
Sam pushed the swollen head of his shaft in the tight ring. It gave way almost immediately. Sam bit his lips hard to stave off his orgasm, but Dean was pushing his hips back, meeting him.
“Come…the fuck on…” he panted, and Sam gripped the base of his cock and pushed all the way in in one fluid motion.
Dean groaned something unintelligible. He was shaking, his body covered in sweat. Sam held his breath, closed his eyes, and gripped Dean’s hips with both hands, waiting for his brother to give him the permission to move.
He didn’t have to wait long. Dean started moving on his own, circling his hips and working his anal muscles around Sam’s shaft. “Move, Sam. Move or I swear to god…”
Sam pulled back, then shoved all the way back, and Dean cried out, hitting the table a second time with his palm. “S’what m’talking about,” he mumbled, and Sam gave it to him exactly how he wanted. Tightening his grip on Dean’s hips, he started a brutal rhythm, bending over his brother’s back and sucking and biting at the skin of his neck.
Dean kept encouraging him with a flow of dirty words that were… well, dirty, even for him. He had slipped a hand between his pelvis and the table. By the quick, almost frantic motion of his arm, he was jerking himself off without restrain. It had been a while since Sam saw Dean so free of any inhibitions, so willing to let go of everything and just reach his pleasure. It turned him on so much he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. That’s what he whispered in Dean’s ear, biting at the lobe.
“Yeah, come on, Sam, come inside of me. Want you to.”
“Geez…huh… Dean, what’s gotten into you?”
Dean twisted his neck so that he could look at him. His face was a deep shade of red, and he was smiling wickedly. “It’s like -god yes, right there- I‘ve been thinking about all those freaking men of letters speaking of philosophy and drinking scotch and smoking cigars, all of them so… distinguished… Huh! Yeah, m’close… Felt so wrong and dirty, imagining my brother fucking me right here in there freaking library…”
“You’re so messed up.”
“Gonna come, Sam.”
Sam started to circle his hips, a thing he knew drove Dean crazy. His brother raised his head, panting harshly, jerking himself even faster. His body was starting to tense in that way Sam loved so much, and the pants shifted into groans, deep and loud, echoing against the bunker’s walls.
Dean froze, giving one last stroke to his cock, then he collapsed on the table, shaking violently, mumbling a string of curses “damn it… damn it, freaking son a bitch, fuck, Sam…”
His inner walls were clenching almost painfully around Sam’s cock. Sam was losing his rhythm, the ball of fire spinning deep inside him was reaching his balls, making them tingle and harden. He came with a hoarse cry, burying himself inside of his brother as deep as he could.
The room was filled with the sound of their combined breaths. Sometimes during their fucking, the old disc had finished playing and a light scratching noise was coming from the turning table.
“Sam,” Dean murmured after what could’ve been an eternity.
“Yeah?” Sam mumbled, his face resting between Dean’s shoulder blades.
“I like it here.”
Sam giggled. “Me too.”
“Guess I’ll need another shower. But this time, you comin’ with me. You’ll see. The water pressure is-“
“Marvelous. I know.”
The End
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word count:1500
Summary:Written for glovered Batcave fic and art comment fest. The prompt I choose is from lavishsqualor. Sam really wants Dean out of that old, deadperson's robe. Right. Now. It's PWP, probably the most dirty PWP I've ever written.
Warnings: NC-17 for sex, language, dirty talk, silliness. This is bottom!Dean.
Disclaimer:I do not own Supernatural and its characters, nor the Batcave. Sadly.
A/N:Unbeta'd. English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes and typos. And thanks to Tebtosca for letting me use her prelubed!Dean idea :D She's hilarious, and I wished I had half of her talent. <3
“You gonna take off the dead guy robe?”
Sam turned back to his desk without waiting for an answer.
Truth was, if Sam was honest with himself, he was kind of a bitch at the moment. He hadn’t slept at all last night, buried deep into books and old registries, kind of overwhelmed by how good it felt, how easy it was to forget the whole Amelia mess when he was sitting at a desk surrounded by stuff that was just waiting to be learn. Even Sam himself knew how geek it was for him to think that. Still…
A little fun. That was what Dean had asked when they had been Charlie’s valorous knights during the larping case. That night, they had celebrated the victory without even taking their makeup off, laughing like two teenagers and fucking in the most awesome way in one of the tent (which, in Sam’s opinion, was way much better than the angry sex that had followed Dean’s sudden reappearance from Purgatory. So. So, much better.)
And that morning, parading in a ridiculous robe with sleepers on his feet, suddenly appreciating music from the forties or whatever, that was still what Dean was asking. A little fun… but there were so many registries to go through and…
“Done,” Dean said behind him, and there was the soft noise of a piece of clothing falling on the ground.
Sam could imagine the smug look on his brother’s face. He did try to resist, but his dick disagreed with him, twitching feebly between his legs.
He turned back to look at Dean’s completely naked body, except for the slippers.
“Dean,” Sam rasped when he saw his brother’s hand trailing down his stomach until it wrapped around his half hard dick, stroking it with this strange affection Dean seemed to have for his own genitals.
Sam gasped. Dean’s pubis was completely bare, soft skin getting darker at the junction where his cock started.
Hell. Dean knew how much Sam loved it when he shaved. He didn’t do it often, and only for Sam’s sake because according to him, it was tricky, shaving the balls was a bitch, not to mention the skin around his anus. Last time, he thought he had sprained a muscle in his back because of the awkward position he had to hold. But god it was worth it. So, so worth it.
“Jesus,” Sam said, and he may have drooled a little. He took a step forward, but Dean raised his free hand to stop him.
“Hey. You can watch. That’s all.”
“Dean, don’t be a b-“
“What? A bitch?” Dean’s smile widen and he started to fondle his balls while his strokes on his quickly hardening cock became more insistent.
“Okay, sorry. I get your point. I’ve been going geek over all of this.”
“…Yeah…”
“Fuck. You shaved. Let me touch.”
Sam’s dick was practically screaming for release in the confine of his jeans. He was hypnotised by the movement of Dean’s hands, by the pink tint of his thick and long cock, and the skin of his balls that seemed so soft.
“Like I said,” Dean went on as if Sam hadn’t said anything at all. “The shower pressure is marvelous. I think I spend half an hour in there. Thinking about you and… wanna see something else?”
“God, yes.” Sam was already taking his jeans off. His dick was an obscene bulge in the front of his boxer briefs, and he pressed the palm of his hand hard on it, moaning at how good it felt.
Meanwhile, Dean had walked to the third table -the one Sam didn’t have time to cover in books yet- and god, he was bending over it, legs parted and head resting on his folded arms. Sam pulled off his shirt as quick as he could and stepped out of his underwear clumsily, in the less sexy strip-tease ever. He was hot, had started to sweat, and his mouth was watering quickly at the sight of Dean’s pale thighs and the white creamy skin of his ass.
“Any time now would be good,” Dean groaned.
Sam kneeled in front of Dean and saw something glistening along the crack of his ass. Now, it could be water but…
He parted Dean’s ass cheeks with both hands to expose his hole. He was shaved there as well and his anus was slightly swollen, a deep shade of pink and gleaming with lube.
“Opened myself for you,” Dean rasped, jutting his hips so that Sam could have a better view. He was starting to pant. When Sam rubbed the rim of his hole with a finger, he full on moaned and hit the table with his palm. “Geez… Felt so good, Sam. Couldn’t stop. Came all over the shower tiles just playing with my soft spot, thinking how nice it would feel when you would fuck me.”
“Dean,” Sam babbled, because his brain had apparently shut down and his dick was seriously considering taking control if he didn’t act on his brother’s dirty words like… yesterday.
“Come on, Sammy. Made it easy for you. You can just slip in.”
“Ugh,” Sam answered, using one hand to keep the cheeks parted and the other to rub the tip of his cock over Dean’s hole.
“Damn it,” Dean rasped. “Want it, Sam.”
Sam pushed the swollen head of his shaft in the tight ring. It gave way almost immediately. Sam bit his lips hard to stave off his orgasm, but Dean was pushing his hips back, meeting him.
“Come…the fuck on…” he panted, and Sam gripped the base of his cock and pushed all the way in in one fluid motion.
Dean groaned something unintelligible. He was shaking, his body covered in sweat. Sam held his breath, closed his eyes, and gripped Dean’s hips with both hands, waiting for his brother to give him the permission to move.
He didn’t have to wait long. Dean started moving on his own, circling his hips and working his anal muscles around Sam’s shaft. “Move, Sam. Move or I swear to god…”
Sam pulled back, then shoved all the way back, and Dean cried out, hitting the table a second time with his palm. “S’what m’talking about,” he mumbled, and Sam gave it to him exactly how he wanted. Tightening his grip on Dean’s hips, he started a brutal rhythm, bending over his brother’s back and sucking and biting at the skin of his neck.
Dean kept encouraging him with a flow of dirty words that were… well, dirty, even for him. He had slipped a hand between his pelvis and the table. By the quick, almost frantic motion of his arm, he was jerking himself off without restrain. It had been a while since Sam saw Dean so free of any inhibitions, so willing to let go of everything and just reach his pleasure. It turned him on so much he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. That’s what he whispered in Dean’s ear, biting at the lobe.
“Yeah, come on, Sam, come inside of me. Want you to.”
“Geez…huh… Dean, what’s gotten into you?”
Dean twisted his neck so that he could look at him. His face was a deep shade of red, and he was smiling wickedly. “It’s like -god yes, right there- I‘ve been thinking about all those freaking men of letters speaking of philosophy and drinking scotch and smoking cigars, all of them so… distinguished… Huh! Yeah, m’close… Felt so wrong and dirty, imagining my brother fucking me right here in there freaking library…”
“You’re so messed up.”
“Gonna come, Sam.”
Sam started to circle his hips, a thing he knew drove Dean crazy. His brother raised his head, panting harshly, jerking himself even faster. His body was starting to tense in that way Sam loved so much, and the pants shifted into groans, deep and loud, echoing against the bunker’s walls.
Dean froze, giving one last stroke to his cock, then he collapsed on the table, shaking violently, mumbling a string of curses “damn it… damn it, freaking son a bitch, fuck, Sam…”
His inner walls were clenching almost painfully around Sam’s cock. Sam was losing his rhythm, the ball of fire spinning deep inside him was reaching his balls, making them tingle and harden. He came with a hoarse cry, burying himself inside of his brother as deep as he could.
The room was filled with the sound of their combined breaths. Sometimes during their fucking, the old disc had finished playing and a light scratching noise was coming from the turning table.
“Sam,” Dean murmured after what could’ve been an eternity.
“Yeah?” Sam mumbled, his face resting between Dean’s shoulder blades.
“I like it here.”
Sam giggled. “Me too.”
“Guess I’ll need another shower. But this time, you comin’ with me. You’ll see. The water pressure is-“
“Marvelous. I know.”
The End