That's My Boy, Pt. II - SPN, Sam/Dean, R
Title: That's My Boy, Pt. II
Author: thelonejuliet
Characters: Sam, Dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 1,334
Rating: R
Warnings: Boy kissing, incest, handjobs
Spoilers: Scarecrow
Disclaimer: These boys are not mine. They're Kripke's. But, they have more fun when I play with them. ;)
Beta: confused_one06
Author's Note(s): This was written because of dreamlittleyo. Seriously, it's all her fault. 'Cause she made this and then I wrote the following. THEN! She offered to color it (see here or below) and I was done for.
(FYI, this has now created this weird partnership where she makes pretty pictures and plot bunnies start randomly hopping around my skull. *grins*)
All fics found here or here!
Summary: Follow-up to the orchard action. Sam and Dean...er...figure it out.
First Part here.
That's My Boy, Pt. II
After the scarecrow was done for and the town of Burkitsville started to go to Hell with the disappearance of the Norse god’s protection, things were left…awkward with the Winchesters.
Emily, the current case’s Mary Sue, was on a bus bound for…well, actually, Dean didn’t know or care where it was bound for, because she was gone and now there was no one else to focus on, save for Sam. And, Sam was looking at him. Staring. Mooning, even. But, the problem was, there was no looming death anymore - his head was on straight again. All the he’s my brother’s and wrong’s and can’t go there’s were swimming around his head again, desperately fighting for recognition amongst the need, the love for Sam.
Once they were safe in a motel room, three hundred miles from the whole ordeal, Sam decided to speak. “So, uh…that kiss….”
Dean sighed, throwing his duffel on the nearest bed, and sunk down into one of the worn chairs by the window. He looked imploringly at Sam, silently begging him to drop it, let them go on being brothers, completely uncomplicated by that kiss in the orchard.
But, then he felt the phantom trace of Sam’s mouth on his; that rough, calloused hand braced against his skin again. Unconsciously, he brought his hand up to touch his lips, imagining Sam’s tongue sliding in between them again…the ghostly kiss deepening in his mind…
And, he knew they could never go back. He was stuck - in for a penny, in for a pound.
Opening eyes that he didn’t know had closed, he settled his hand back in his lap, twisting it with the other. Sam seemed to sense the war and the inevitable decision in his older brother’s brain - or maybe saw it in his eyes - and moved closer, kneeling in front of Dean on the worn carpet. He looked the older man straight in the eye, questioning, before he cupped Dean’s face in both of his gigantic hands and leaned forward.
Dean’s breath caught in his throat and his lips parted on a gasp, which Sam took full advantage of, choosing then to slip his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean made a helpless noise, quickly overwhelmed and trying not freak out. He tried to convince himself that the orchard kiss really was just a fluke and that he wasn’t enjoying this second one. That his brain was playing tricks on him and Sam wasn’t there.
That he’d really died and was now currently sitting in some weird, fucked-up Heaven where incest was a perfectly normal occurrence.
But, then Sam ran his tongue along the roof of Dean’s mouth and he was lost in the sensations, hands grappling for purchase on his brother’s shoulders as his mouth began to respond. Before he knew it, he was moving, pushing Sam back onto the floor and crawling after him, mouths never losing contact.
Dean straddled his brother’s hips, suddenly realizing he was hard as rock when his dick came into contact with the bulge in the front of Sam’s jeans. He moaned into his little brother’s mouth, tongue moving fervently, battling Sam’s with a passion that he’d never known he was capable of - apparently Sam was causing him to cross all sorts of lines.
One of Sam’s hands moved from Dean’s head down to his hips, pulling him down onto him, closer, thrusting his erection up against his brother’s. Dean moaned again, loving the vibrations against his chest when Sam returned it.
Rutting himself against Sam’s hip, the need too much to wait, he threaded the fingers of one hand in Sam’s hair while the others worked on getting both of their pants open. Sam joined him in the effort and very quickly, Sam had both their dicks in one massive fist, jacking them both together.
Dean moaned again, freeing his hand from between them to brace himself on the floor, certain that he was going to collapse at any given second as he thrust into his brother’s grip, loving the feel of Sam’s cock against his. Sam’s kiss got more desperate as he neared the edge, Dean matching him with gusto.
When Sam separated their mouths, Dean actually whimpered with loss - well, until Sammy latched onto his jaw, open-mouthed kisses and bites working their way down to his neck. Dean moaned at the stimulation, grunting when Sam’s hand began to work faster.
Sam’s body suddenly went rigid underneath his and Dean had a split-second to wonder why before there was warm liquid splashing up against his T-shirt and the younger man moaned. The sound ended on a note that sounded a lot like “Dean,” and his head got that much foggier.
Sam worked himself through his orgasm and upped the ferocity of his assault on Dean’s neck, biting harder, sucking deeper. Dean was dangerously close to the edge, ready to sink down into the pit where the only constant was Sammy.
And, that thought gave him pause, forced him to take a step back from that edge, unbeknownst to Sam, who kept his attention solely on Dean’s body. The only constant from here on out would be Sam, his little brother, that baby he’d carried away from tragedy - that man that he’d dragged away from a second tragedy. For the first time in his life, he was suddenly sure that Sam wouldn’t leave him. Because once they crossed this line…there was no going back. He knew that. And, he knew that Sammy did, too.
His mind was wiped blissfully blank as a sudden pain in the vicinity of his shoulder pulled him back into the motel room, to where he was currently being driven to orgasm by his baby brother. His baby brother who’d managed to flip them over without Dean’s noticing and was biting into his collarbone, causing blood to rise to the surface.
When Sam heard the grunt of surprise - and, admittedly, pain - he smiled against Dean’s skin, lapping over the area with his tongue, a pleasurable counterpoint.
“You weren’t with me,” he murmured.
Dean started to laugh, but only managed to let out a low, guttural sound as Sam twisted his wrist, sliding his thumb along the underside of the head of his dick. He had enough time to crash his lips to his brother’s, kissing and nipping Sam’s lower lip, before he came, his cum mixing with Sammy’s on his clothing, on Sam’s hand. He’d come so hard that his vision went white out for a few seconds before his mind registered every point of feeling and darkness replaced it.
When he came back to himself, he guessed that hardly a minute had passed. They were still on the floor, clothes a mess, sweat causing a bond between their skin and the fabric. Sam was lying on his side next to Dean, lazily curled around his brother, placing soft kisses along Dean’s neck, jaw, face, anywhere he could reach, his hand rubbing small circles on Dean’s stomach.
Dean nudged Sam with his shoulder. “M’sticky,” he muttered. Which was true. Drying sweat, mixed with drying cum? Yeah. Sticky.
Sam laughed, sitting up with a small groan. He turned to smile down at Dean knowingly, and Dean smirked, eyebrow cocked. “Told you it was sticky.”
Sam leaned down so that his mouth was right next to Dean’s ear. “And, your dick’s still hanging out for anyone to see…” He reached down and ran the pads of his fingers up along the shaft; Dean’s dick made a feeble attempt at hardening again. “…we should hide you…’cause no one is allowed to see this, not anymore…the shower a good enough place?”
Dean swallowed hard, forcing his next words past the lump of emotion and lust welling up in his throat. He nodded. “Y-yeah…S’good.”
Sam pulled himself back up to a sitting position, pulling Dean to stand up when he did. As he pushed his older brother toward the bathroom door, he spoke again, sighing softly as he followed him in:
“That’s my boy.”
***************
You know the drill! Click the link and tell me what you think!
And, tell dreamlittleyo that she's awesome! ^_^
Author: thelonejuliet
Characters: Sam, Dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 1,334
Rating: R
Warnings: Boy kissing, incest, handjobs
Spoilers: Scarecrow
Disclaimer: These boys are not mine. They're Kripke's. But, they have more fun when I play with them. ;)
Beta: confused_one06
Author's Note(s): This was written because of dreamlittleyo. Seriously, it's all her fault. 'Cause she made this and then I wrote the following. THEN! She offered to color it (see here or below) and I was done for.
(FYI, this has now created this weird partnership where she makes pretty pictures and plot bunnies start randomly hopping around my skull. *grins*)
All fics found here or here!
Summary: Follow-up to the orchard action. Sam and Dean...er...figure it out.
First Part here.
That's My Boy, Pt. II
After the scarecrow was done for and the town of Burkitsville started to go to Hell with the disappearance of the Norse god’s protection, things were left…awkward with the Winchesters.
Emily, the current case’s Mary Sue, was on a bus bound for…well, actually, Dean didn’t know or care where it was bound for, because she was gone and now there was no one else to focus on, save for Sam. And, Sam was looking at him. Staring. Mooning, even. But, the problem was, there was no looming death anymore - his head was on straight again. All the he’s my brother’s and wrong’s and can’t go there’s were swimming around his head again, desperately fighting for recognition amongst the need, the love for Sam.
Once they were safe in a motel room, three hundred miles from the whole ordeal, Sam decided to speak. “So, uh…that kiss….”
Dean sighed, throwing his duffel on the nearest bed, and sunk down into one of the worn chairs by the window. He looked imploringly at Sam, silently begging him to drop it, let them go on being brothers, completely uncomplicated by that kiss in the orchard.
But, then he felt the phantom trace of Sam’s mouth on his; that rough, calloused hand braced against his skin again. Unconsciously, he brought his hand up to touch his lips, imagining Sam’s tongue sliding in between them again…the ghostly kiss deepening in his mind…
And, he knew they could never go back. He was stuck - in for a penny, in for a pound.
Opening eyes that he didn’t know had closed, he settled his hand back in his lap, twisting it with the other. Sam seemed to sense the war and the inevitable decision in his older brother’s brain - or maybe saw it in his eyes - and moved closer, kneeling in front of Dean on the worn carpet. He looked the older man straight in the eye, questioning, before he cupped Dean’s face in both of his gigantic hands and leaned forward.
Dean’s breath caught in his throat and his lips parted on a gasp, which Sam took full advantage of, choosing then to slip his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean made a helpless noise, quickly overwhelmed and trying not freak out. He tried to convince himself that the orchard kiss really was just a fluke and that he wasn’t enjoying this second one. That his brain was playing tricks on him and Sam wasn’t there.
That he’d really died and was now currently sitting in some weird, fucked-up Heaven where incest was a perfectly normal occurrence.
But, then Sam ran his tongue along the roof of Dean’s mouth and he was lost in the sensations, hands grappling for purchase on his brother’s shoulders as his mouth began to respond. Before he knew it, he was moving, pushing Sam back onto the floor and crawling after him, mouths never losing contact.
Dean straddled his brother’s hips, suddenly realizing he was hard as rock when his dick came into contact with the bulge in the front of Sam’s jeans. He moaned into his little brother’s mouth, tongue moving fervently, battling Sam’s with a passion that he’d never known he was capable of - apparently Sam was causing him to cross all sorts of lines.
One of Sam’s hands moved from Dean’s head down to his hips, pulling him down onto him, closer, thrusting his erection up against his brother’s. Dean moaned again, loving the vibrations against his chest when Sam returned it.
Rutting himself against Sam’s hip, the need too much to wait, he threaded the fingers of one hand in Sam’s hair while the others worked on getting both of their pants open. Sam joined him in the effort and very quickly, Sam had both their dicks in one massive fist, jacking them both together.
Dean moaned again, freeing his hand from between them to brace himself on the floor, certain that he was going to collapse at any given second as he thrust into his brother’s grip, loving the feel of Sam’s cock against his. Sam’s kiss got more desperate as he neared the edge, Dean matching him with gusto.
When Sam separated their mouths, Dean actually whimpered with loss - well, until Sammy latched onto his jaw, open-mouthed kisses and bites working their way down to his neck. Dean moaned at the stimulation, grunting when Sam’s hand began to work faster.
Sam’s body suddenly went rigid underneath his and Dean had a split-second to wonder why before there was warm liquid splashing up against his T-shirt and the younger man moaned. The sound ended on a note that sounded a lot like “Dean,” and his head got that much foggier.
Sam worked himself through his orgasm and upped the ferocity of his assault on Dean’s neck, biting harder, sucking deeper. Dean was dangerously close to the edge, ready to sink down into the pit where the only constant was Sammy.
And, that thought gave him pause, forced him to take a step back from that edge, unbeknownst to Sam, who kept his attention solely on Dean’s body. The only constant from here on out would be Sam, his little brother, that baby he’d carried away from tragedy - that man that he’d dragged away from a second tragedy. For the first time in his life, he was suddenly sure that Sam wouldn’t leave him. Because once they crossed this line…there was no going back. He knew that. And, he knew that Sammy did, too.
His mind was wiped blissfully blank as a sudden pain in the vicinity of his shoulder pulled him back into the motel room, to where he was currently being driven to orgasm by his baby brother. His baby brother who’d managed to flip them over without Dean’s noticing and was biting into his collarbone, causing blood to rise to the surface.
When Sam heard the grunt of surprise - and, admittedly, pain - he smiled against Dean’s skin, lapping over the area with his tongue, a pleasurable counterpoint.
“You weren’t with me,” he murmured.
Dean started to laugh, but only managed to let out a low, guttural sound as Sam twisted his wrist, sliding his thumb along the underside of the head of his dick. He had enough time to crash his lips to his brother’s, kissing and nipping Sam’s lower lip, before he came, his cum mixing with Sammy’s on his clothing, on Sam’s hand. He’d come so hard that his vision went white out for a few seconds before his mind registered every point of feeling and darkness replaced it.
When he came back to himself, he guessed that hardly a minute had passed. They were still on the floor, clothes a mess, sweat causing a bond between their skin and the fabric. Sam was lying on his side next to Dean, lazily curled around his brother, placing soft kisses along Dean’s neck, jaw, face, anywhere he could reach, his hand rubbing small circles on Dean’s stomach.
Dean nudged Sam with his shoulder. “M’sticky,” he muttered. Which was true. Drying sweat, mixed with drying cum? Yeah. Sticky.
Sam laughed, sitting up with a small groan. He turned to smile down at Dean knowingly, and Dean smirked, eyebrow cocked. “Told you it was sticky.”
Sam leaned down so that his mouth was right next to Dean’s ear. “And, your dick’s still hanging out for anyone to see…” He reached down and ran the pads of his fingers up along the shaft; Dean’s dick made a feeble attempt at hardening again. “…we should hide you…’cause no one is allowed to see this, not anymore…the shower a good enough place?”
Dean swallowed hard, forcing his next words past the lump of emotion and lust welling up in his throat. He nodded. “Y-yeah…S’good.”
Sam pulled himself back up to a sitting position, pulling Dean to stand up when he did. As he pushed his older brother toward the bathroom door, he spoke again, sighing softly as he followed him in:
“That’s my boy.”
***************
You know the drill! Click the link and tell me what you think!
And, tell dreamlittleyo that she's awesome! ^_^