New Fic: Inevitable, NC-17, Dean/Sam
Title: Inevitable
Author: lissa-ann, Lissa
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Summary: This is what they do. And it keeps them going through the darkness of the rest of their lives.
A/N: This was written for a holiday fic exchange run by siriuslyyellow. The prompt was simply "PORN". So, here it is.
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean aren't real, right? Then neither is this story. Written with love and all credit for characters goes to Kripke and the CW.
They fuck. They screw. And when Sam was really, really lucky, they make love.
Fucking is what Dean knows best. Always after a hunt, while the adrenaline is coursing through his veins, just inside the door of the motel room. Or if he's really worked up, sometimes on the side of the road in the Impala. It's always Dean, stripping Sam down, jeans just over his ass down to his thighs, Dean the same way, just waiting to pound into Sam. Sam's on his hands and knees, pushing that tight little ass in the air. It's times like this that there's no prep, just the hard thrust into Sam. Sam's breathless with the pain, barely able to respond, letting out a silent scream. It's not that Dean doesn't pay attention; it's just that he's so caught up in his own fire that he forgets sometimes that this hurts Sam. Eventually, Sam begins to match Dean's thrusts, taking his own cock in hand and jacking himself hard; as he knows that's the only way he'll get his own orgasm. The pain is getting him off though; it always does.
"That's it, Sammy, fuck your hand hard. Fuck, Sam, fuck, fuck goddamn you feel so good, just taking it hard, letting me force myself into you. Fuck. So fucking good."
Six strokes later, and Sam comes all over the sheets, tightening around Dean, letting out a loud groan, his arms collapsing to the bed as Dean continues to shove his cock into Sam's ass. Then, Dean's bliss came shortly after Sam's, crying out Sam's name. Once his orgasm is over, he pulls out of Sam and heads to the bathroom to take a shower. There's never any talk between the two of them, not until Sam has taken his own shower and Dean's ready for bed. They talk about the case they've just finished or the research for the next one or what they plan to do the next day, but never about the fucking. When this first started, Sam had tried to talk to Dean, to find out why this was happening, why he was so harsh and demanding, but Dean found ways to deflect the discussion and Sam stopped asking. He knew this is what his brother needed, needed to get all of that energy and adrenaline worn down. So Sam turned into the greedy little cock slut he always was and gave himself to Dean.
Screwing was something completely different. Sometimes Dean would top and sometimes Sam would top. Dean topped more than Sam, but Dean was willing to offer himself up, carefully. Screwing usually happened after they'd hit the bars. Sometimes they were drunk, sometimes not or one of them would be drunk and the other sober. Dean would flirt with the pretty girls and Sam would sit there and watch him, growing more jealous by the minute. Dean was faithful to Sam and Sam knew it, but that didn't calm the protective and possessive streak in him. Sam always knew whose bed he would wind up in at the end if the night and that was really all Sam needed. But even when Sam was feeling possessive, he'd let Dean top, happy to feel his brother move inside him and to bruise his neck, his mouth, his shoulders, his hips with his mouth and fingers. They often screw face-to-face, Dean prepping him these times, still roughly. Usually only two fingers, which in no way was big enough for Dean's cock that would soon enter him. The pain isn't as great, but it's still enough to push Sam to the edge, letting Dean take his cock in hand, pumping in the same rhythm as his thrusts.
"God, feel so good, Dean, filling me up, like we fit." He moans into Dean's mouth, sucking on his tongue.
"You gonna come for me, baby boy? You gonna shoot your load all over me?" It isn't long before Sam is coming in between them, come on both of their bellies. That's enough to push Dean into his own orgasm. Unlike the fucking, Dean takes his time with Sam, licking Sam's abdomen clean then kissing Sam, letting him taste himself on Dean's tongue. They wouldn't cuddle, because really, they were grown men and they simply didn't do that. Screwing was always about mutual pleasure. Sam's cock in Dean's mouth, Sam jacking Dean off, one inside the other, staring out slow then increasing the pace until the other just couldn't take it anymore.
To Sam, making love was the most important. They didn't do it often, mostly because Dean was uncomfortable being the center of attention in any way. The last time they made love was Sam's birthday. Sam worshipped Dean's body, gentle and slow, kissing every inch of skin and mapping out freckles like they were constellations. Whispered words of "love" and "forever" and "you're my everything" and other words that Dean can never fully believe, even though he wants to with all of his heart. Making love is all about what Dean wants, his pleasure, his needs. Sam sucks him down with just the right amount of suction, knowing every single hot spot that Dean has. He breaches Dean with two fingers as he's blowing him, hitting his prostate on every slide with Dean finally coming hot and hard into his mouth. Sam caresses him softly, hands everywhere, until he's ready again. Sam lubes up three fingers, prepping Dean carefully, treating him like he's something precious. He slides slowly into Dean, his thrusts languid, taking his time, drawing Dean's pleasure out. It's only when Dean starts to beg for more that Sam speeds his hips up, hands on Dean's cock, stroking in time with his movement. Dean cries out, Sammy's name on his lips, begging for more and his brother obliging.
"Yes, Dean, that's it, yes, wanna feel you come around me. Come for me, big brother. Come for your Sammy," he cried as he felt Dean start to contract around him, hot come spilling out between them, pulling Sam's orgasm out of him with a loud moan. Sam pulls out of him and collapses next to him, his arms automatically wrapping around Dean. This is the only time that Dean will let him cuddle, at least for a few minutes. "Love you more than you know, Dean. Always have," Sam whispers. After 10 minutes or so, Dean wordlessly starts to jam his elbow into Sam's ribs, signifying that he's about had enough of the cuddling. He lets Dean go reluctantly. But Sam's had what he wants most - he's shown his brother how much he loves him in his own special way.
This is the cycle they've fallen into. They do it over and over again, only sometimes being freaked out that they're brothers and that brothers don't do this. The overwhelming love that they have for each other overshadows that fact the rest of the time.
This is what they do. And it keeps them going through the darkness of the rest of their lives.
Author: lissa-ann, Lissa
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Summary: This is what they do. And it keeps them going through the darkness of the rest of their lives.
A/N: This was written for a holiday fic exchange run by siriuslyyellow. The prompt was simply "PORN". So, here it is.
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean aren't real, right? Then neither is this story. Written with love and all credit for characters goes to Kripke and the CW.
They fuck. They screw. And when Sam was really, really lucky, they make love.
Fucking is what Dean knows best. Always after a hunt, while the adrenaline is coursing through his veins, just inside the door of the motel room. Or if he's really worked up, sometimes on the side of the road in the Impala. It's always Dean, stripping Sam down, jeans just over his ass down to his thighs, Dean the same way, just waiting to pound into Sam. Sam's on his hands and knees, pushing that tight little ass in the air. It's times like this that there's no prep, just the hard thrust into Sam. Sam's breathless with the pain, barely able to respond, letting out a silent scream. It's not that Dean doesn't pay attention; it's just that he's so caught up in his own fire that he forgets sometimes that this hurts Sam. Eventually, Sam begins to match Dean's thrusts, taking his own cock in hand and jacking himself hard; as he knows that's the only way he'll get his own orgasm. The pain is getting him off though; it always does.
"That's it, Sammy, fuck your hand hard. Fuck, Sam, fuck, fuck goddamn you feel so good, just taking it hard, letting me force myself into you. Fuck. So fucking good."
Six strokes later, and Sam comes all over the sheets, tightening around Dean, letting out a loud groan, his arms collapsing to the bed as Dean continues to shove his cock into Sam's ass. Then, Dean's bliss came shortly after Sam's, crying out Sam's name. Once his orgasm is over, he pulls out of Sam and heads to the bathroom to take a shower. There's never any talk between the two of them, not until Sam has taken his own shower and Dean's ready for bed. They talk about the case they've just finished or the research for the next one or what they plan to do the next day, but never about the fucking. When this first started, Sam had tried to talk to Dean, to find out why this was happening, why he was so harsh and demanding, but Dean found ways to deflect the discussion and Sam stopped asking. He knew this is what his brother needed, needed to get all of that energy and adrenaline worn down. So Sam turned into the greedy little cock slut he always was and gave himself to Dean.
Screwing was something completely different. Sometimes Dean would top and sometimes Sam would top. Dean topped more than Sam, but Dean was willing to offer himself up, carefully. Screwing usually happened after they'd hit the bars. Sometimes they were drunk, sometimes not or one of them would be drunk and the other sober. Dean would flirt with the pretty girls and Sam would sit there and watch him, growing more jealous by the minute. Dean was faithful to Sam and Sam knew it, but that didn't calm the protective and possessive streak in him. Sam always knew whose bed he would wind up in at the end if the night and that was really all Sam needed. But even when Sam was feeling possessive, he'd let Dean top, happy to feel his brother move inside him and to bruise his neck, his mouth, his shoulders, his hips with his mouth and fingers. They often screw face-to-face, Dean prepping him these times, still roughly. Usually only two fingers, which in no way was big enough for Dean's cock that would soon enter him. The pain isn't as great, but it's still enough to push Sam to the edge, letting Dean take his cock in hand, pumping in the same rhythm as his thrusts.
"God, feel so good, Dean, filling me up, like we fit." He moans into Dean's mouth, sucking on his tongue.
"You gonna come for me, baby boy? You gonna shoot your load all over me?" It isn't long before Sam is coming in between them, come on both of their bellies. That's enough to push Dean into his own orgasm. Unlike the fucking, Dean takes his time with Sam, licking Sam's abdomen clean then kissing Sam, letting him taste himself on Dean's tongue. They wouldn't cuddle, because really, they were grown men and they simply didn't do that. Screwing was always about mutual pleasure. Sam's cock in Dean's mouth, Sam jacking Dean off, one inside the other, staring out slow then increasing the pace until the other just couldn't take it anymore.
To Sam, making love was the most important. They didn't do it often, mostly because Dean was uncomfortable being the center of attention in any way. The last time they made love was Sam's birthday. Sam worshipped Dean's body, gentle and slow, kissing every inch of skin and mapping out freckles like they were constellations. Whispered words of "love" and "forever" and "you're my everything" and other words that Dean can never fully believe, even though he wants to with all of his heart. Making love is all about what Dean wants, his pleasure, his needs. Sam sucks him down with just the right amount of suction, knowing every single hot spot that Dean has. He breaches Dean with two fingers as he's blowing him, hitting his prostate on every slide with Dean finally coming hot and hard into his mouth. Sam caresses him softly, hands everywhere, until he's ready again. Sam lubes up three fingers, prepping Dean carefully, treating him like he's something precious. He slides slowly into Dean, his thrusts languid, taking his time, drawing Dean's pleasure out. It's only when Dean starts to beg for more that Sam speeds his hips up, hands on Dean's cock, stroking in time with his movement. Dean cries out, Sammy's name on his lips, begging for more and his brother obliging.
"Yes, Dean, that's it, yes, wanna feel you come around me. Come for me, big brother. Come for your Sammy," he cried as he felt Dean start to contract around him, hot come spilling out between them, pulling Sam's orgasm out of him with a loud moan. Sam pulls out of him and collapses next to him, his arms automatically wrapping around Dean. This is the only time that Dean will let him cuddle, at least for a few minutes. "Love you more than you know, Dean. Always have," Sam whispers. After 10 minutes or so, Dean wordlessly starts to jam his elbow into Sam's ribs, signifying that he's about had enough of the cuddling. He lets Dean go reluctantly. But Sam's had what he wants most - he's shown his brother how much he loves him in his own special way.
This is the cycle they've fallen into. They do it over and over again, only sometimes being freaked out that they're brothers and that brothers don't do this. The overwhelming love that they have for each other overshadows that fact the rest of the time.
This is what they do. And it keeps them going through the darkness of the rest of their lives.