Fic: Stop, Go
Title: Stop, Go
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Lucifer
Rating: R
Spoilers: 5x03
Disclaimer: In no way mine, or anything to do with me, I own nothing.
Summary: In which it's Dean's mission in life to cockblock Lucifer
AN: Commentfic written for aeon_entwined
Sam gets first dibs on the shower. But that's only because Dean's still stitching the messy gash on his leg. The nest of little burrowing creatures had mostly been taken out by the makeshift flamethrower but there'd still been a couple running free. One of which had managed to sink its teeth through Dean's jeans. Still, Sam's not going to feel guilty about it. Not with Dean, who'd screw him over for ten minutes of hot water without blinking.
He settles for an indulgent fifteen minutes, before stepping out and throwing a towel round his waist.
He's not expecting the curve of hands round his chest. The steady power of cold fingers sliding round his jaw and pulling it round. And then his whole body's turning. The smooth warmth of the towels at his back is a dizzying counterpoint to the cold roughness of Lucifer's hands. They take the towel he's wearing off in one jerk, before finding his mouth again with a growl.
Lucifer disapproves of being left behind when they hunt. But he's usually more irritated than anything else, not - fuck, not this. Not that Sam's complaining. He lifts damp hands and fists them tight in Lucifer's hair and the back of his shirt.
Lucifer shoves in with every inch of his weight. Pressure and denim into the hard, damp lines of Sam's body. There's a noise in Sam's throat, low and dirty, at being pressed back and held there naked. A sharp grind of hips tells him exactly what Lucifer wants. There's a fury in him, a low rumble of urgency that doesn't want to wait. Like Lucifer intends to fuck him right here - and the thought makes Sam groan into his open mouth and dig his hands in tight. Because he's more than ok with that.
He's so ok that he's groaning into Lucifer's mouth, thighs tense where the devil has shoved them open.
"Sam." It's somewhere between question and demand.
"Yeah," Sam says, one burst of heat against Lucifer's jaw. "Fuck, yes."
There's a solid collection of thumps on the door.
"Sam?" Dean has apparently finished his messy first aid.
Sam's head tips back against the wall with a sharp thud.
"Sam, you done yet?"
"Your brother is vexing," Lucifer says, voice quietly murderous.
"You're not allowed to kill him," Sam reminds him, again. Even though he's just a little tempted to kill him himself, right now. Because, Jesus, it's hard to have a stupidly reckless affair with the devil when your brother won't fuck off long enough to actually let you have sex.
Lucifer grunts like he disapproves of this rule, catches at Sam's hair with near-vicious impatience. Sam's head is dragged down again, mouth pushed open and he can't think under that. The kiss is hard and hungry and Sam wants to fucking drown in it -
"Sam, I'm gonna have to wash some of this blood off. It's all over my fucking leg and I can't see to stitch it." Dean's voice comes through the door in one long whine.
Sam pulls away.
"Christ, ok, fine, I'm coming out," he snaps.
He suspects Dean is lying.
He suspects Dean is lying because he's making it his new job in life to never leave Sam behind a locked door for long enough to get up to anything with the devil.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Lucifer
Rating: R
Spoilers: 5x03
Disclaimer: In no way mine, or anything to do with me, I own nothing.
Summary: In which it's Dean's mission in life to cockblock Lucifer
AN: Commentfic written for aeon_entwined
Sam gets first dibs on the shower. But that's only because Dean's still stitching the messy gash on his leg. The nest of little burrowing creatures had mostly been taken out by the makeshift flamethrower but there'd still been a couple running free. One of which had managed to sink its teeth through Dean's jeans. Still, Sam's not going to feel guilty about it. Not with Dean, who'd screw him over for ten minutes of hot water without blinking.
He settles for an indulgent fifteen minutes, before stepping out and throwing a towel round his waist.
He's not expecting the curve of hands round his chest. The steady power of cold fingers sliding round his jaw and pulling it round. And then his whole body's turning. The smooth warmth of the towels at his back is a dizzying counterpoint to the cold roughness of Lucifer's hands. They take the towel he's wearing off in one jerk, before finding his mouth again with a growl.
Lucifer disapproves of being left behind when they hunt. But he's usually more irritated than anything else, not - fuck, not this. Not that Sam's complaining. He lifts damp hands and fists them tight in Lucifer's hair and the back of his shirt.
Lucifer shoves in with every inch of his weight. Pressure and denim into the hard, damp lines of Sam's body. There's a noise in Sam's throat, low and dirty, at being pressed back and held there naked. A sharp grind of hips tells him exactly what Lucifer wants. There's a fury in him, a low rumble of urgency that doesn't want to wait. Like Lucifer intends to fuck him right here - and the thought makes Sam groan into his open mouth and dig his hands in tight. Because he's more than ok with that.
He's so ok that he's groaning into Lucifer's mouth, thighs tense where the devil has shoved them open.
"Sam." It's somewhere between question and demand.
"Yeah," Sam says, one burst of heat against Lucifer's jaw. "Fuck, yes."
There's a solid collection of thumps on the door.
"Sam?" Dean has apparently finished his messy first aid.
Sam's head tips back against the wall with a sharp thud.
"Sam, you done yet?"
"Your brother is vexing," Lucifer says, voice quietly murderous.
"You're not allowed to kill him," Sam reminds him, again. Even though he's just a little tempted to kill him himself, right now. Because, Jesus, it's hard to have a stupidly reckless affair with the devil when your brother won't fuck off long enough to actually let you have sex.
Lucifer grunts like he disapproves of this rule, catches at Sam's hair with near-vicious impatience. Sam's head is dragged down again, mouth pushed open and he can't think under that. The kiss is hard and hungry and Sam wants to fucking drown in it -
"Sam, I'm gonna have to wash some of this blood off. It's all over my fucking leg and I can't see to stitch it." Dean's voice comes through the door in one long whine.
Sam pulls away.
"Christ, ok, fine, I'm coming out," he snaps.
He suspects Dean is lying.
He suspects Dean is lying because he's making it his new job in life to never leave Sam behind a locked door for long enough to get up to anything with the devil.