Patience, the long and the slow of it, hitting him like good booze, never gets that, only the raw of it, rotgut, hard ache, has to have the sour breath of the lie on him, "Isn't this what you always wanted?"
Hard cock already out of jeans, his own pants shucked down, boxers a lame defense, wedged against the crook of his ass, Sam panting, already, anticipating, promising, "Gonna make you ache till you're beggin' me to come, Dean."
Dean can't do much, hell, can barely shake his head, just keeps his lips pressed together, not tight, mind you, can't give the game away, has his play-by-play stored in his head, last place he's sane, body's aching for it, his own cock is hard, leaking, friction-pressure too much, the scrape of the wall barely muffled by the thin barrier of his boxers.
Crazy filth coming out of Sammy's mouth, didn't know he had it in him, does, somewhere deep, but Dean has to let that go, has to let a whole lot go, uneven fingernails digging into the angle of his hip, leaving bruises or worse.
Sees the fall of Sam's hair, the bangs, swooping over Sam's face, bad shadow, darkness gone dancing, Sam's mouth opening, it's a bad angle, rough angle. More teeth than lips coming toward his mouth, but Dean crooks his neck, feels the crack, he's too tense, always cracking his neck, but it's a good reason than any, Sam's mouth sealing over his, seal more a mark, mine, goddamn cliche. Doesn't open his mouth until Sam pushes his tongue in, forces Dean to open and that's when he lets it go, hell of a thing, holy water barely more than saliva at this point.
But tell him there's little else to save his brother and fuck, what Dean wouldn't do.
I read that wrong and thought that it was turning into a Possessed!Sam getting off on killing Dean and though I'm not a fan of deathfics, I think I would've liked that if only because it would have reminded me of Angel snapping Miss Calender's neck.
Hard cock already out of jeans, his own pants shucked down, boxers a lame defense, wedged against the crook of his ass, Sam panting, already, anticipating, promising, "Gonna make you ache till you're beggin' me to come, Dean."
Dean can't do much, hell, can barely shake his head, just keeps his lips pressed together, not tight, mind you, can't give the game away, has his play-by-play stored in his head, last place he's sane, body's aching for it, his own cock is hard, leaking, friction-pressure too much, the scrape of the wall barely muffled by the thin barrier of his boxers.
Crazy filth coming out of Sammy's mouth, didn't know he had it in him, does, somewhere deep, but Dean has to let that go, has to let a whole lot go, uneven fingernails digging into the angle of his hip, leaving bruises or worse.
Sees the fall of Sam's hair, the bangs, swooping over Sam's face, bad shadow, darkness gone dancing, Sam's mouth opening, it's a bad angle, rough angle. More teeth than lips coming toward his mouth, but Dean crooks his neck, feels the crack, he's too tense, always cracking his neck, but it's a good reason than any, Sam's mouth sealing over his, seal more a mark, mine, goddamn cliche. Doesn't open his mouth until Sam pushes his tongue in, forces Dean to open and that's when he lets it go, hell of a thing, holy water barely more than saliva at this point.
But tell him there's little else to save his brother and fuck, what Dean wouldn't do.
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Man. You gotta go and do that and then that last LINE, jeez. Evil, evil, awesome woman.
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1,100 words. YOU HORRIBLE PERSON.
Vicarious
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::LOVES ALL OVER YOU::
linked it above, babe. ♥!
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That was hot. That was awesome.
feels the crack
I read that wrong and thought that it was turning into a Possessed!Sam getting off on killing Dean and though I'm not a fan of deathfics, I think I would've liked that if only because it would have reminded me of Angel snapping Miss Calender's neck.
ps. I am friending you.
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