It's Good to be the King
Title: It's Good to be the King
Author: hunters_retreat
Word Count: 1700
Recipient: verucasalt123
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating/warnings: NC-17, BDSM, blood/pain/power kinks
Summary: Dean never would have suspected the kinks he's developed in his life as a hunter. Never knew the ones Sam had either. Some days, it was good to be the king.
Author's Note: for the sammesiah antichristmas exchange. I had a horrible mix up with the dates and a posting delay, but here it is! I hope you like it!
It didn’t start this way. God knows Dean never sat around nights, wondering if he had secret kinks like this. Dean would take any sex he could get - that’s what happens when you live on the move, never staying in one place long enough to make friends. You do what you have to and as a teenage Dean had been happy enough about it. He was attractive enough that he got the action he wanted and if a girl had a kink, or a guy on the occasion, then Dean was ready to give it a try.
Hunting hadn’t given him a lot of time to hook up in the last few years though and it was harder with Sam back from Stanford. Harder with Sam fighting against his demon blood and Dean’s need to keep Sam close.
Guess Sam took that as a sign or something.
When the powers began to manifest after Jake’s death, Sam clung back just as hard. He started slipping between Dean’s sheets after his nightmares, trying to shake the feeling of darkness that haunted him. It hadn’t worked and the nightmares got worse. Sam did more than just slip between his sheets then. He slipped into Dean’s bed, into Dean’s head and he refused to leave.
Now, things were different. Dean didn’t feel the shame and guilt he used to. He’d given up that moral pretense and accepted that his life was beyond salvation. Redemption lay on a single path now.
Sam’s touch. Sam’s powers. Sam’s rule in hell. Sam.
“Do you believe?” Sam whispered in his brother’s ear. His hands trailed over Dean’s naked back and Dean had to lock his knees to keep from falling over. Sam’s touch had become so powerful that Dean could barely stand it. His body was hardwired to respond to Sam and his brother damn well knew it. He’s spent plenty of time making sure of it.
“In what?” Dean asked cautiously. Sam was all smooth silk today, gentle caresses and soft words but his power was never far beneath and Sam loved to find any reason to use it on Dean.
“Whatever I tell you to believe in,” Sam whispered against Dean’s shoulder.
Dean felt Sam’s fingers crawling up his back until his fingers were clenched in Dean’s hair. Dean didn’t think Sam liked it as long as he made Dean keep it now, but it was a fuck you to their old man who had never let Dean grow his hair out past a military buzz. Sam did like to take advantage of it though.
“Yes,” Dean answered, proud of the steady sound of his voice. He didn’t feel steady at all but Sam didn’t need to know that. As strong as his brother was he could easily puck the emotions and thoughts from Dean’s head but he didn’t. Only when they were in council with others did Sam use that trick. Dean would never try to keep anything real from Sam, but his ego was big enough already. He didn’t need to know how quickly he could get Dean riled up.
Sam pulled again making Dean’s head crank back uncomfortably and then Sam’s lips where there, his smirk just above Dean’s mouth. “I believe you, Dean,” Sam whispered. “I believe you’d do anything I told you, anything I asked of you. You want to know a secret?”
Sam pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips and he moaned into it. As his lips parted, Sam’s tongue flicked inside, tasting him. Dean knew what to expect and he’d grown used to the metallic taste of his brother’s kiss. He didn’t like the source behind it though and so as Sam pulled back Dean bit his own bottom lip until he tasted blood again. Sam’s eyes widened slightly before he roughly pulled Dean against his bare chest and licked and bit and sucked at his lips until there was more than one bloody point. Dean moaned against the pain of it; a part of him had long ago associated pain with pleasure and Sam’s dominance had reinforced that time and time again.
Sam’s hands spun him again and Dean fell back against the bed, his hands still held behind his back with invisible bonds. His clothes were shredded and Dean would complain about it if he didn’t know that was exactly what Sam wanted - an excuse to turn his brother inside out.
Dean turned onto his back and squirmed to get his hands in a more comfortable position. Sam must have noticed because Dean’s hands were suddenly free. He pulled them out from behind his back but then Sam had then in his invisible grip again, forcing them up over Dean’s head.
“Sammy,” he whispered.
“There is only one thing I believe in,” Sam answered Dean’s call by dropping onto the bed between Dean’s knees and leaning close. Dean could feel Sam’s cock pressing against his hole and he squirmed again, trying to move Sam along.
“All the angels and demons,” Sam continued to confess, “the host of heaven, the prophets and archangels, the demons and the fallen; they’re all liars and conmen trying to make other people do what they want. There is only one creature in all of god’s creation and the devil’s torments that I believe in.”
He pressed into Dean and he closed his eyes and screamed as pain and pleasure and the pure surge of Sam’s power rocked into him.
“Dean, fucking hell, Dean,” Sam called his name in awe and Dean opened his eyes to look up at his little brother.
He fucked Dean hard then, his body pressed him into mattress as Sam’s lips moved over him, worshipping his freckled skin. There was no rhythm for Dean to match, no way to counter Sam’s thrusts with Sam so close but it was always like that, Sam in control. Dean felt his orgasm approaching and Sam seemed to feel it as well. He kissed Dean hard, drawing blood again and it was enough to set Dean off. He came between them, slick hot and heavy between them. As he clenched around Sam’s cock, his brother came too, invisible hands pressing against Dean’s skin everywhere, forcing him to shake with the intensity of the physical stimulation.
As Sam pulled out of his body, his hold on Dean’s hands disappeared.
“Jesus,” Dean whispered as he let out a deep breath.
Sam laughed. “Nope, guess again.”
Dean couldn’t figure out what the hell Sam was talking about but then his brother was sitting up on one elbow, looking down at Dean.
“Don’t hold a lot of faith in Jesus anymore,” he said as he wiped at the mess on Dean’s stomach. “Only thing I believe in, only thing left the believe in,” he kissed Dean softly and it was the sort of thing that made Dean squirm. It was the type of thing that had happened before their current mess, before Sam was the King of Hell and the whole world bowed down to him. Before Dean could blame the blood addiction and interfering angels and demons. It was just them and the sort of intimacy that they should never have had.
“I believe in you,” Sam answered finally. As soon as he said it, he was out of bed. He left the motel, naked and unconcerned. The monsters around him knew better than to look; Dean had taught them as much once he’d taken the blood oath to stand at Sam’s side through eternity - no matter who he was.
Dean sighed as he sat up in bed. The motel room was a mess. Glass and porcelain shattered all over as Sam had come in to express his discontent to the demons who occupied the room. They’d almost killed three hunters the week before and Sam had sent them to capture them. Bobby, Jo and Ellen had escaped them again but Sam’s anger was directed at their tactics. They’d tried to injury them and Sam had a no injury-no killing order out for those three.
The demons might have learned their lesson if Dean hadn’t walked in. They might have lived to try again if the sight of Sam’s powers raging in the confines of the room hadn’t twisted something in Dean so tight he’d fallen to his knees right there in the doorway. If Sam hadn’t noticed the moment and decided he wanted to give Dean a real show of power.
A demon came running into the room, eyes downcast as he left a pile of clothes on the foot of the bed for Dean. Dean sighed and crawled out of the bed, careless of the glass and porcelain under his feet. He could feel the blood beginning to flow but he ignored it as he dressed. He left his boots off, knowing they’d be staying a few more days at least to try to track down their friends.
Dean crossed the room as he looked at the three demons strung up on the wall. Two were dead and a third was whimpering softly, weakly as if his life was almost at an end. Dean gripped his head in one hand and pushed it to the side, looking at the mangled flesh of his neck. Dean licked a long stripe up his wound and smiled as the demon shivered.
“I think I’ll grant you mercy,” Dean said softly. The demon sobbed harder and Dean laughed. His laughter was echoed in the doorframe as Sam came back in, dressed in jeans and a dark button up.
“I think he’d prefer a death in hell,” Sam said as he came up behind Dean, watching as Dean whispered into the demon’s wounds. He screamed and Sam’s fingers on his hips tightened.
“Too bad, he gets heaven’s mercy today.”
Sam’s forehead dropped between Dean’s shoulder blades and Dean’s smirk was all for his little brother. After all, if the Kings of Heaven and Hell couldn’t have a little fun together, who could? And as the angels had taught Dean long before, the only difference between angels and demons were the brand of lies they told.
“Dean,” Sam whispered his name as Dean pressed his fingers to the demon’s stomach and healed the other wounds. Heaven’s light poured from his form and though he knew it hurt his brother, Sam held on and the whimper he let out was anything but pain.
Dean turned and wrapped his fingers in his brother’s hair, pulled his head to the side as he bit at Sam’s neck. Sam moaned and Dean smiled. “I know you believe little brother,” Dean said darkly. “So do I. I do believe the King of Hell better get on his knees.”
He did.
Some days, it was good to be the king.
Author: hunters_retreat
Word Count: 1700
Recipient: verucasalt123
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating/warnings: NC-17, BDSM, blood/pain/power kinks
Summary: Dean never would have suspected the kinks he's developed in his life as a hunter. Never knew the ones Sam had either. Some days, it was good to be the king.
Author's Note: for the sammesiah antichristmas exchange. I had a horrible mix up with the dates and a posting delay, but here it is! I hope you like it!
It didn’t start this way. God knows Dean never sat around nights, wondering if he had secret kinks like this. Dean would take any sex he could get - that’s what happens when you live on the move, never staying in one place long enough to make friends. You do what you have to and as a teenage Dean had been happy enough about it. He was attractive enough that he got the action he wanted and if a girl had a kink, or a guy on the occasion, then Dean was ready to give it a try.
Hunting hadn’t given him a lot of time to hook up in the last few years though and it was harder with Sam back from Stanford. Harder with Sam fighting against his demon blood and Dean’s need to keep Sam close.
Guess Sam took that as a sign or something.
When the powers began to manifest after Jake’s death, Sam clung back just as hard. He started slipping between Dean’s sheets after his nightmares, trying to shake the feeling of darkness that haunted him. It hadn’t worked and the nightmares got worse. Sam did more than just slip between his sheets then. He slipped into Dean’s bed, into Dean’s head and he refused to leave.
Now, things were different. Dean didn’t feel the shame and guilt he used to. He’d given up that moral pretense and accepted that his life was beyond salvation. Redemption lay on a single path now.
Sam’s touch. Sam’s powers. Sam’s rule in hell. Sam.
“Do you believe?” Sam whispered in his brother’s ear. His hands trailed over Dean’s naked back and Dean had to lock his knees to keep from falling over. Sam’s touch had become so powerful that Dean could barely stand it. His body was hardwired to respond to Sam and his brother damn well knew it. He’s spent plenty of time making sure of it.
“In what?” Dean asked cautiously. Sam was all smooth silk today, gentle caresses and soft words but his power was never far beneath and Sam loved to find any reason to use it on Dean.
“Whatever I tell you to believe in,” Sam whispered against Dean’s shoulder.
Dean felt Sam’s fingers crawling up his back until his fingers were clenched in Dean’s hair. Dean didn’t think Sam liked it as long as he made Dean keep it now, but it was a fuck you to their old man who had never let Dean grow his hair out past a military buzz. Sam did like to take advantage of it though.
“Yes,” Dean answered, proud of the steady sound of his voice. He didn’t feel steady at all but Sam didn’t need to know that. As strong as his brother was he could easily puck the emotions and thoughts from Dean’s head but he didn’t. Only when they were in council with others did Sam use that trick. Dean would never try to keep anything real from Sam, but his ego was big enough already. He didn’t need to know how quickly he could get Dean riled up.
Sam pulled again making Dean’s head crank back uncomfortably and then Sam’s lips where there, his smirk just above Dean’s mouth. “I believe you, Dean,” Sam whispered. “I believe you’d do anything I told you, anything I asked of you. You want to know a secret?”
Sam pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips and he moaned into it. As his lips parted, Sam’s tongue flicked inside, tasting him. Dean knew what to expect and he’d grown used to the metallic taste of his brother’s kiss. He didn’t like the source behind it though and so as Sam pulled back Dean bit his own bottom lip until he tasted blood again. Sam’s eyes widened slightly before he roughly pulled Dean against his bare chest and licked and bit and sucked at his lips until there was more than one bloody point. Dean moaned against the pain of it; a part of him had long ago associated pain with pleasure and Sam’s dominance had reinforced that time and time again.
Sam’s hands spun him again and Dean fell back against the bed, his hands still held behind his back with invisible bonds. His clothes were shredded and Dean would complain about it if he didn’t know that was exactly what Sam wanted - an excuse to turn his brother inside out.
Dean turned onto his back and squirmed to get his hands in a more comfortable position. Sam must have noticed because Dean’s hands were suddenly free. He pulled them out from behind his back but then Sam had then in his invisible grip again, forcing them up over Dean’s head.
“Sammy,” he whispered.
“There is only one thing I believe in,” Sam answered Dean’s call by dropping onto the bed between Dean’s knees and leaning close. Dean could feel Sam’s cock pressing against his hole and he squirmed again, trying to move Sam along.
“All the angels and demons,” Sam continued to confess, “the host of heaven, the prophets and archangels, the demons and the fallen; they’re all liars and conmen trying to make other people do what they want. There is only one creature in all of god’s creation and the devil’s torments that I believe in.”
He pressed into Dean and he closed his eyes and screamed as pain and pleasure and the pure surge of Sam’s power rocked into him.
“Dean, fucking hell, Dean,” Sam called his name in awe and Dean opened his eyes to look up at his little brother.
He fucked Dean hard then, his body pressed him into mattress as Sam’s lips moved over him, worshipping his freckled skin. There was no rhythm for Dean to match, no way to counter Sam’s thrusts with Sam so close but it was always like that, Sam in control. Dean felt his orgasm approaching and Sam seemed to feel it as well. He kissed Dean hard, drawing blood again and it was enough to set Dean off. He came between them, slick hot and heavy between them. As he clenched around Sam’s cock, his brother came too, invisible hands pressing against Dean’s skin everywhere, forcing him to shake with the intensity of the physical stimulation.
As Sam pulled out of his body, his hold on Dean’s hands disappeared.
“Jesus,” Dean whispered as he let out a deep breath.
Sam laughed. “Nope, guess again.”
Dean couldn’t figure out what the hell Sam was talking about but then his brother was sitting up on one elbow, looking down at Dean.
“Don’t hold a lot of faith in Jesus anymore,” he said as he wiped at the mess on Dean’s stomach. “Only thing I believe in, only thing left the believe in,” he kissed Dean softly and it was the sort of thing that made Dean squirm. It was the type of thing that had happened before their current mess, before Sam was the King of Hell and the whole world bowed down to him. Before Dean could blame the blood addiction and interfering angels and demons. It was just them and the sort of intimacy that they should never have had.
“I believe in you,” Sam answered finally. As soon as he said it, he was out of bed. He left the motel, naked and unconcerned. The monsters around him knew better than to look; Dean had taught them as much once he’d taken the blood oath to stand at Sam’s side through eternity - no matter who he was.
Dean sighed as he sat up in bed. The motel room was a mess. Glass and porcelain shattered all over as Sam had come in to express his discontent to the demons who occupied the room. They’d almost killed three hunters the week before and Sam had sent them to capture them. Bobby, Jo and Ellen had escaped them again but Sam’s anger was directed at their tactics. They’d tried to injury them and Sam had a no injury-no killing order out for those three.
The demons might have learned their lesson if Dean hadn’t walked in. They might have lived to try again if the sight of Sam’s powers raging in the confines of the room hadn’t twisted something in Dean so tight he’d fallen to his knees right there in the doorway. If Sam hadn’t noticed the moment and decided he wanted to give Dean a real show of power.
A demon came running into the room, eyes downcast as he left a pile of clothes on the foot of the bed for Dean. Dean sighed and crawled out of the bed, careless of the glass and porcelain under his feet. He could feel the blood beginning to flow but he ignored it as he dressed. He left his boots off, knowing they’d be staying a few more days at least to try to track down their friends.
Dean crossed the room as he looked at the three demons strung up on the wall. Two were dead and a third was whimpering softly, weakly as if his life was almost at an end. Dean gripped his head in one hand and pushed it to the side, looking at the mangled flesh of his neck. Dean licked a long stripe up his wound and smiled as the demon shivered.
“I think I’ll grant you mercy,” Dean said softly. The demon sobbed harder and Dean laughed. His laughter was echoed in the doorframe as Sam came back in, dressed in jeans and a dark button up.
“I think he’d prefer a death in hell,” Sam said as he came up behind Dean, watching as Dean whispered into the demon’s wounds. He screamed and Sam’s fingers on his hips tightened.
“Too bad, he gets heaven’s mercy today.”
Sam’s forehead dropped between Dean’s shoulder blades and Dean’s smirk was all for his little brother. After all, if the Kings of Heaven and Hell couldn’t have a little fun together, who could? And as the angels had taught Dean long before, the only difference between angels and demons were the brand of lies they told.
“Dean,” Sam whispered his name as Dean pressed his fingers to the demon’s stomach and healed the other wounds. Heaven’s light poured from his form and though he knew it hurt his brother, Sam held on and the whimper he let out was anything but pain.
Dean turned and wrapped his fingers in his brother’s hair, pulled his head to the side as he bit at Sam’s neck. Sam moaned and Dean smiled. “I know you believe little brother,” Dean said darkly. “So do I. I do believe the King of Hell better get on his knees.”
He did.
Some days, it was good to be the king.