FIC - A Different Color Purple - Sam/Dean, NC-17
Title: A Different Color Purple
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: incest, explicit sex, PWP
Spoilers: Vague Season 5
Summary: Inspired by a comment in rockstarpeach's journal entry.
A/N: A million thanks to my beta sakura-no-mi. Please provide feedback. Enjoy...
A Different Color Purple
They were lucky the boarded up house still had running hot water. The steam had covered the shower window as Sam washed the grime and mud of the cemetery off of his body, warm water relaxing his muscles. Their latest salt and burn turned out to be harder than either one of them had imagined. Apparently even a 15 year old girl who overdosed at her birthday party could become a powerful ghost strong enough to push Dean into the hole he was digging and tackle Sam, throwing off his balance. Sam had fallen over the gravestone, the sharp edge of the marble hitting him right on his hip bone. The struggle had continued for a few minutes until finally Dean was able to throw the match over the bones and she had disappeared into the flames.
He turned off the water and wrapped the towel around his waist, hissing at the pain, a dark purple bruise visible on his side. He walked into the bedroom and saw that Dean was sprawled sideways on the king size bed, still in his towel, his parted legs showing a hint of the dark hairs still damp inside his thighs. He was sifting through little colorful bottles he had laid out in front of him. He looked preoccupied as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“Why would a woman need 7 colors of nail polish? Blue? Purple? Black? What happened to sticking with the classics? All I needed back in the day was a girl with long red nails and that was enough to get me going.”
“Back in the day, being the operative word,” said Sam, with a smirk. “Besides, I kind of like that dark wine colored one. It matches your skin tone.”
“What? Just because we are fucking, doesn’t mean we are a bunch of girls, Sam. If you expect me to put on nail polish, you are gonna need to wait for the next Apocalypse.”
“Or you could put it on me instead,” said Sam playfully, picking the little dark bottle and turning it around in his hand as if it was a magic elixir. He dropped his towel and moved behind Dean, sitting with his back to the headboard, and shifting their bodies, so that Dean was seated in front of him, Sam’s long legs hugging his body and feet planted on Dean’s lap.
Sam leaned forward, pulling Dean to his chest, his chin over Dean’s shoulder. He wiggled his toes as he offered the bottle of nail polish to his brother. Dean scoffed as he opened the cap without taking the bottle from Sam’s hands and watched as a thick gob of polish slowly dripped from the brush back into the bottle. The brush seemed ridiculously small and surreal in his hand, a distinct contrast to the iron club he was holding just a few hours ago. Dean reached for Sam’s right foot, sliding his fingers between Sam’s toes, his thumb running slow circles over the big toe, sliding from the nail to the soft hairs on his toe and back.
“It tickles,” said Sam, trying to free his foot, but Dean’s grip tightened, the soft caress turning into something stronger, more insistent. Without a word, Dean picked up the brush again, with little less polish this time, and started painting Sam’s big toe.
As thick stripes of the polish covered his nail, Sam watched as if he was hypnotized, his gaze locked on Dean’s fingers, from the ones that carefully worked the little brush to the ones that were holding his foot steady, the touch changing from strong to gentle between brush strokes.
By the time Dean had finished the first coat of polish, Sam was more than a little hard, his blood thick cock straining between their bodies, the pain in his hip forgotten. He extended his right leg over Dean’s and flexed his foot so that the sole was flat over Dean’s thigh. He moved it up Dean’s leg, slowly, all the way until his heel touched the coarse hair at the base of Dean’s cock, through the parting of the towel that was still around Dean’s waist. With a twist of his ankle, he started rubbing the sole of his foot over Dean’s balls and was not too surprised to feel that Dean was also equally hard.
Sam continued his teasing for a while, until apparently it became too much for Dean, and he threw down the nail polish, the liquid splashing all over the floor, and he bent forward, until his face was hovering just above Sam’s other foot. As Dean parted his lips and touched the tip of his tongue tentatively to the soft skin above his ankle, Sam’s breath hitched, feeling like his skin was touched by fire. Dean had kissed him thousands of times since they had started this crazy whatever it was between them, but Sam had never thought of his ankle would feel so good under his brother’s lips.
As Dean’s tongue traveled from the top of Sam’s foot towards his deep dark colored toes, Sam felt a chill running down his spine, his cock stiffening even more. He lifted Dean and pushed him onto his hands and knees, the already loose towel slipping from Dean’s hips. Before Dean could protest, Sam reached out and swiped his tongue from the base of Dean’s balls up to the cleft of his ass. Sam didn’t stop with that though and continued running his tongue up and down several times, until his lips stopped at the top of their trail, and he nipped playfully at the small opening, the tip of his tongue pushing slightly in. Almost losing his balance, Dean grabbed Sam’s foot and started sucking his big toe, his tongue slowly running circles around the digit as if it was a miniature cock. Sam was once again amazed at how talented Dean’s lips and tongue were, as his toe disappeared and appeared between Dean’s lips, tiny rivulets of saliva running down his foot, cooling his skin as they dried.
Sam decided to take to the offensive and pushed his tongue in even further, licking inside Dean’s tight channel, feeling the wrinkles shift as Dean’s muscles flexed, the musky smell overpowering his senses. He blindly reached for the lube on the bedside table, and without breaking his rhythm, poured some on his hand, covering his fingers liberally. By the time Sam pressed one of his fingers gently alongside his tongue, Dean’s arms had started shaking, his whole body was covered in sweat and he was moaning unintelligibly. Sam smirked as he added another finger quickly followed by a third. As he continued stretching his brother, he moved his other hand to his own cock, smearing the rest of the lube and mixing it with the pre-come that was leaking from his slit.
As if he had heard what Sam had just done, Dean moved away from Sam and turned to face him, his knees around Sam’s hips. “Enough teasing Sam, get to the main event.” Sam reached with both hands and pulled Dean’s face toward himself, locking their lips, as his brother slowly lowered himself onto Sam’s straining cock. Dean’s cock was rock hard and leaking, the tip touching the short hairs on Sam’s belly, leaving a trail of pre-come as he went lower. Once all the way down, Dean did not stay still for too long, lifting and dropping his body over Sam in quick jerky movements, trying to find the perfect angle. Sam reached between their bodies and grabbed Dean’s cock, moving his hand up and down, letting Dean set the pace, but trying to keep the same speed.
As he neared completion, Sam noticed Dean’s rhythm becoming more erratic. Dean’s fingers were tangled in Sam’s hair, pulling just this side of painful. Their lips hadn’t left each other’s for longer than necessary to breathe. Sam squeezed Dean’s cock head one more time as he lifted his hips slightly, biting Dean’s lower lip. Dean pressed down forcefully and threw his head back, a deep moan shaking his body as he came, spurts of come painting Sam’s chest and abdomen. Sam followed shortly afterwards, burying his lips on his brother’s neck, a shaky breath calling his name.
Neither one of them moved as they tried to catch their breaths and wait for their heartbeats to return to normal. Dean was the first one to move back and sit next to Sam, his fingers tracing the darkening bruise on Sam’s hip.
“Are you OK?”
“Yeah, it should be better in a day or two,” nodded Sam as he opened his eyes, not realizing that he had closed them. He was still trying to recover from the high of the orgasm. As he stretched his legs, his gaze fell on his feet.
“Plus it matches the color of my toes,” he said, wiggling his toes and kissing the edge of his brother’s lips with a playful grin.
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: incest, explicit sex, PWP
Spoilers: Vague Season 5
Summary: Inspired by a comment in rockstarpeach's journal entry.
A/N: A million thanks to my beta sakura-no-mi. Please provide feedback. Enjoy...
A Different Color Purple
They were lucky the boarded up house still had running hot water. The steam had covered the shower window as Sam washed the grime and mud of the cemetery off of his body, warm water relaxing his muscles. Their latest salt and burn turned out to be harder than either one of them had imagined. Apparently even a 15 year old girl who overdosed at her birthday party could become a powerful ghost strong enough to push Dean into the hole he was digging and tackle Sam, throwing off his balance. Sam had fallen over the gravestone, the sharp edge of the marble hitting him right on his hip bone. The struggle had continued for a few minutes until finally Dean was able to throw the match over the bones and she had disappeared into the flames.
He turned off the water and wrapped the towel around his waist, hissing at the pain, a dark purple bruise visible on his side. He walked into the bedroom and saw that Dean was sprawled sideways on the king size bed, still in his towel, his parted legs showing a hint of the dark hairs still damp inside his thighs. He was sifting through little colorful bottles he had laid out in front of him. He looked preoccupied as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“Why would a woman need 7 colors of nail polish? Blue? Purple? Black? What happened to sticking with the classics? All I needed back in the day was a girl with long red nails and that was enough to get me going.”
“Back in the day, being the operative word,” said Sam, with a smirk. “Besides, I kind of like that dark wine colored one. It matches your skin tone.”
“What? Just because we are fucking, doesn’t mean we are a bunch of girls, Sam. If you expect me to put on nail polish, you are gonna need to wait for the next Apocalypse.”
“Or you could put it on me instead,” said Sam playfully, picking the little dark bottle and turning it around in his hand as if it was a magic elixir. He dropped his towel and moved behind Dean, sitting with his back to the headboard, and shifting their bodies, so that Dean was seated in front of him, Sam’s long legs hugging his body and feet planted on Dean’s lap.
Sam leaned forward, pulling Dean to his chest, his chin over Dean’s shoulder. He wiggled his toes as he offered the bottle of nail polish to his brother. Dean scoffed as he opened the cap without taking the bottle from Sam’s hands and watched as a thick gob of polish slowly dripped from the brush back into the bottle. The brush seemed ridiculously small and surreal in his hand, a distinct contrast to the iron club he was holding just a few hours ago. Dean reached for Sam’s right foot, sliding his fingers between Sam’s toes, his thumb running slow circles over the big toe, sliding from the nail to the soft hairs on his toe and back.
“It tickles,” said Sam, trying to free his foot, but Dean’s grip tightened, the soft caress turning into something stronger, more insistent. Without a word, Dean picked up the brush again, with little less polish this time, and started painting Sam’s big toe.
As thick stripes of the polish covered his nail, Sam watched as if he was hypnotized, his gaze locked on Dean’s fingers, from the ones that carefully worked the little brush to the ones that were holding his foot steady, the touch changing from strong to gentle between brush strokes.
By the time Dean had finished the first coat of polish, Sam was more than a little hard, his blood thick cock straining between their bodies, the pain in his hip forgotten. He extended his right leg over Dean’s and flexed his foot so that the sole was flat over Dean’s thigh. He moved it up Dean’s leg, slowly, all the way until his heel touched the coarse hair at the base of Dean’s cock, through the parting of the towel that was still around Dean’s waist. With a twist of his ankle, he started rubbing the sole of his foot over Dean’s balls and was not too surprised to feel that Dean was also equally hard.
Sam continued his teasing for a while, until apparently it became too much for Dean, and he threw down the nail polish, the liquid splashing all over the floor, and he bent forward, until his face was hovering just above Sam’s other foot. As Dean parted his lips and touched the tip of his tongue tentatively to the soft skin above his ankle, Sam’s breath hitched, feeling like his skin was touched by fire. Dean had kissed him thousands of times since they had started this crazy whatever it was between them, but Sam had never thought of his ankle would feel so good under his brother’s lips.
As Dean’s tongue traveled from the top of Sam’s foot towards his deep dark colored toes, Sam felt a chill running down his spine, his cock stiffening even more. He lifted Dean and pushed him onto his hands and knees, the already loose towel slipping from Dean’s hips. Before Dean could protest, Sam reached out and swiped his tongue from the base of Dean’s balls up to the cleft of his ass. Sam didn’t stop with that though and continued running his tongue up and down several times, until his lips stopped at the top of their trail, and he nipped playfully at the small opening, the tip of his tongue pushing slightly in. Almost losing his balance, Dean grabbed Sam’s foot and started sucking his big toe, his tongue slowly running circles around the digit as if it was a miniature cock. Sam was once again amazed at how talented Dean’s lips and tongue were, as his toe disappeared and appeared between Dean’s lips, tiny rivulets of saliva running down his foot, cooling his skin as they dried.
Sam decided to take to the offensive and pushed his tongue in even further, licking inside Dean’s tight channel, feeling the wrinkles shift as Dean’s muscles flexed, the musky smell overpowering his senses. He blindly reached for the lube on the bedside table, and without breaking his rhythm, poured some on his hand, covering his fingers liberally. By the time Sam pressed one of his fingers gently alongside his tongue, Dean’s arms had started shaking, his whole body was covered in sweat and he was moaning unintelligibly. Sam smirked as he added another finger quickly followed by a third. As he continued stretching his brother, he moved his other hand to his own cock, smearing the rest of the lube and mixing it with the pre-come that was leaking from his slit.
As if he had heard what Sam had just done, Dean moved away from Sam and turned to face him, his knees around Sam’s hips. “Enough teasing Sam, get to the main event.” Sam reached with both hands and pulled Dean’s face toward himself, locking their lips, as his brother slowly lowered himself onto Sam’s straining cock. Dean’s cock was rock hard and leaking, the tip touching the short hairs on Sam’s belly, leaving a trail of pre-come as he went lower. Once all the way down, Dean did not stay still for too long, lifting and dropping his body over Sam in quick jerky movements, trying to find the perfect angle. Sam reached between their bodies and grabbed Dean’s cock, moving his hand up and down, letting Dean set the pace, but trying to keep the same speed.
As he neared completion, Sam noticed Dean’s rhythm becoming more erratic. Dean’s fingers were tangled in Sam’s hair, pulling just this side of painful. Their lips hadn’t left each other’s for longer than necessary to breathe. Sam squeezed Dean’s cock head one more time as he lifted his hips slightly, biting Dean’s lower lip. Dean pressed down forcefully and threw his head back, a deep moan shaking his body as he came, spurts of come painting Sam’s chest and abdomen. Sam followed shortly afterwards, burying his lips on his brother’s neck, a shaky breath calling his name.
Neither one of them moved as they tried to catch their breaths and wait for their heartbeats to return to normal. Dean was the first one to move back and sit next to Sam, his fingers tracing the darkening bruise on Sam’s hip.
“Are you OK?”
“Yeah, it should be better in a day or two,” nodded Sam as he opened his eyes, not realizing that he had closed them. He was still trying to recover from the high of the orgasm. As he stretched his legs, his gaze fell on his feet.
“Plus it matches the color of my toes,” he said, wiggling his toes and kissing the edge of his brother’s lips with a playful grin.