Skin - rated NC-17 - AU "Skin" Supernatural slash
Another bit of Wincest (sorta) - this one ficlet-sized. And strange. Another AU of "Skin".
Skin
rated: NC-17
warnings: non-con
He thought they'd never leave St. Louis.
He'd wanted to get back on the road right away, but that hadn't been possible. Sam had needed time to pull himself together. Dean had understood. At first. Hell, he'd been nothing but understanding. He'd even taken Sam to the cemetary to visit Rebecca's grave after the funeral.
But enough was enough. They had to move on eventually.
"I'm sorry about your friend, alright? But it happened, Sammy. And now it's over. She's dead. You're not. You've gotta start acting like it."
He got them six hours into Louisiana before he even said as much. He didn't want to risk setting Sam off again before they'd gotten some distance between themselves and... Missouri.
"This isn't about Rebecca," Sam said, sullen.
Dean didn't mind sullen. He didn't mind petulant. Screaming and kicking and generally making a nuisance of himself, Dean minded. So maybe Sam had learned his lesson.
But maybe not. Yeah, Dean knew the hissy fits and the escape attempts weren't about Rebecca. But he pretended they were. He had to. They didn't talk about that other thing Sam was sullen about. Ever.
Sam knew that. It was Dean's one rule besides, 'Don't leave my sight unless I tell you to' and 'Don't fight me in public or I'll cut off your fucking fingers.'
Dean levelled a dark glare at Sam over the formica table between them. They were in a roadside diner and the sun was just setting on Destrehan. 'You're lucky you didn't start this in the car, you little shit,' Dean's expression said.
Dean tossed some bills onto the tabletop, mollified somewhat by the tiny flash of fear that flitted through Sam's eyes when Dean stood.
"Finish eating," he said. "I'll be outside." By the car, where he could keep an eye on Sam through the diner's front windows.
For once, Sam did as he was told without complaint. Dean would almost have been suspicious if it weren't for the stiff way Sam moved. Dean had gotten carried away in Jefferson. He regretted doing it, but if that was what it took to keep Sam in line, then a little regret was worth the win. Dean would just have to make it up to Sam later.
---
"This still hurt?"
They got a room at the nearest motel (as usual) and Dean had Sam lie on his stomach on the single bed, so he could check the bandages on Sam's back.
This time he was suspicious. Because Sam had only ever stripped so easily for him once before. And that had been the night he'd tried begging Dean to take him to-
For that reason, Dean was somewhat less than gentle as he prodded the muscle in Sam's side that Sam had pulled the week before. Sam didn't respond.
"Not so much?"
Dean's hands moved to cover the slightly faded bruises on Sam's hips. Sam stiffened, but he didn't flinch away from Dean's touch. So Dean rewarded him by brushing his lips over the bruised skin.
"What if the food runs out?" Sam asked just as Dean had decided he could go easy on the kid.
He should have known better. "Don't push me, Sammy," he said.
As he should have said something when Sam had talked back to him at the diner. He should do more now than press his teeth into the marked flesh bared beneath him. But-
"Relax," Dean snapped, when he started on Sam with his fingers. And Sam listened. He fisted his hands in the bedsheets, and bit his lower lip hard. But the rest of him relaxed and he didn't make a sound.
He barely even breathed when Dean removed his fingers and rose from the bed.
Dean was so pleased he felt like being gracious. "I told you I left enough, didn't I?" Food and water that had cost them all of Dean's limited funds. If he hadn't taken a little something from Rebecca's parents' place, they'd be broke right now. And they wouldn't have been able to afford the accommodations Dean had had to make for his double.
Dean shrugged out of his t-shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. "What? You don't trust me?"
If Sam had learned nothing from their time together, at least he hadn't unlearned how to lie through his teeth.
"Of course I trust you. You're my brother." Sam had never been so cooperative before. And he almost managed to sound like it didn't make him sick to do it. Dean really would have to figure out what was going on with him. Later.
First, there were other things to take care of. And after that, he let Sam have the bathroom.
"Don't come out til I call."
Sam moved into the other room without so much as a nod. Almost as soon as the door closed, Dean heard the sounds of Sam vomiting into the sink on the other side.
Dean shook his head, muscles loosening and bones creaking. And then he had to concentrate on only himself as he began to shed.
[ end. ]
xx Shapeshifter!Dean/Sam :P Is this too vague? Or too obvious? What do you think?
xx I know my title leaves something to be desired. Suggested alternatives would be welcome :)
Skin
rated: NC-17
warnings: non-con
He thought they'd never leave St. Louis.
He'd wanted to get back on the road right away, but that hadn't been possible. Sam had needed time to pull himself together. Dean had understood. At first. Hell, he'd been nothing but understanding. He'd even taken Sam to the cemetary to visit Rebecca's grave after the funeral.
But enough was enough. They had to move on eventually.
"I'm sorry about your friend, alright? But it happened, Sammy. And now it's over. She's dead. You're not. You've gotta start acting like it."
He got them six hours into Louisiana before he even said as much. He didn't want to risk setting Sam off again before they'd gotten some distance between themselves and... Missouri.
"This isn't about Rebecca," Sam said, sullen.
Dean didn't mind sullen. He didn't mind petulant. Screaming and kicking and generally making a nuisance of himself, Dean minded. So maybe Sam had learned his lesson.
But maybe not. Yeah, Dean knew the hissy fits and the escape attempts weren't about Rebecca. But he pretended they were. He had to. They didn't talk about that other thing Sam was sullen about. Ever.
Sam knew that. It was Dean's one rule besides, 'Don't leave my sight unless I tell you to' and 'Don't fight me in public or I'll cut off your fucking fingers.'
Dean levelled a dark glare at Sam over the formica table between them. They were in a roadside diner and the sun was just setting on Destrehan. 'You're lucky you didn't start this in the car, you little shit,' Dean's expression said.
Dean tossed some bills onto the tabletop, mollified somewhat by the tiny flash of fear that flitted through Sam's eyes when Dean stood.
"Finish eating," he said. "I'll be outside." By the car, where he could keep an eye on Sam through the diner's front windows.
For once, Sam did as he was told without complaint. Dean would almost have been suspicious if it weren't for the stiff way Sam moved. Dean had gotten carried away in Jefferson. He regretted doing it, but if that was what it took to keep Sam in line, then a little regret was worth the win. Dean would just have to make it up to Sam later.
---
"This still hurt?"
They got a room at the nearest motel (as usual) and Dean had Sam lie on his stomach on the single bed, so he could check the bandages on Sam's back.
This time he was suspicious. Because Sam had only ever stripped so easily for him once before. And that had been the night he'd tried begging Dean to take him to-
For that reason, Dean was somewhat less than gentle as he prodded the muscle in Sam's side that Sam had pulled the week before. Sam didn't respond.
"Not so much?"
Dean's hands moved to cover the slightly faded bruises on Sam's hips. Sam stiffened, but he didn't flinch away from Dean's touch. So Dean rewarded him by brushing his lips over the bruised skin.
"What if the food runs out?" Sam asked just as Dean had decided he could go easy on the kid.
He should have known better. "Don't push me, Sammy," he said.
As he should have said something when Sam had talked back to him at the diner. He should do more now than press his teeth into the marked flesh bared beneath him. But-
"Relax," Dean snapped, when he started on Sam with his fingers. And Sam listened. He fisted his hands in the bedsheets, and bit his lower lip hard. But the rest of him relaxed and he didn't make a sound.
He barely even breathed when Dean removed his fingers and rose from the bed.
Dean was so pleased he felt like being gracious. "I told you I left enough, didn't I?" Food and water that had cost them all of Dean's limited funds. If he hadn't taken a little something from Rebecca's parents' place, they'd be broke right now. And they wouldn't have been able to afford the accommodations Dean had had to make for his double.
Dean shrugged out of his t-shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. "What? You don't trust me?"
If Sam had learned nothing from their time together, at least he hadn't unlearned how to lie through his teeth.
"Of course I trust you. You're my brother." Sam had never been so cooperative before. And he almost managed to sound like it didn't make him sick to do it. Dean really would have to figure out what was going on with him. Later.
First, there were other things to take care of. And after that, he let Sam have the bathroom.
"Don't come out til I call."
Sam moved into the other room without so much as a nod. Almost as soon as the door closed, Dean heard the sounds of Sam vomiting into the sink on the other side.
Dean shook his head, muscles loosening and bones creaking. And then he had to concentrate on only himself as he began to shed.
[ end. ]
xx Shapeshifter!Dean/Sam :P Is this too vague? Or too obvious? What do you think?
xx I know my title leaves something to be desired. Suggested alternatives would be welcome :)