I downright *suck* at updates sometimes
I really really do. I didn't really notice until last week that I hadn't updated since OCTOBER. But I did stuffs! Like got my Firefly claim done for icons 100, so yay! And I did a small Secret Santa with one of my mailing lists that produced fic! Yay SPN fic!
Title: Fire and Ink
Fandom: SPN
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: FRAO (incest is the fun 'cest)
Sam starts at the instep of his foot, planting a feather light kiss that feels more like a whisper against Dean’s foot than lips to skin contact. One of Sam’s hands is ghosting along the back of Dean’s knee, the other tracing a distinct pattern along his ankle.
Sam moves up ever so slowly, leaving a hot trail where his fingers had been only moments before. His hands blaze a new trail, one hand ghosting over his skin while the other continues to trace a pattern, whorls and lines becoming indistinguishable as Dean gets lost in the sensations Sam is pulling so expertly from him. The soft cuffs that hold him to the bed don’t help matters any.
Sam’s slow to reach Dean’s mouth, lavishing attention on Dean’s body everywhere except his groin. Dean has the fleeting thought that if Sam paid half the attention he did on his classes while he was at Stanford compared to how he was making him feel right now, then it was a damn shame he wasn’t going to be a lawyer.
“You ready?” Sam smiles into the kiss as he pushes against Dean, his erection sliding up against him, sending a shudder through Dean’s body.
“I was born ready.” Dean smiles back, the end of his sentence turning into a moan as Sam bites the hollow of his throat in response.
“You shit.” Sam laughs into his skin.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
~~~
Bobby knew a few things. Knew he wasn’t cut out for hunting anymore, not because the body wasn’t willing, which it wasn’t, but because neither was the spirit. He was happy to carve out his little corner, protect it up to the nines, and only stick his nose out when he needed to.
He also knew not to mess with the Winchesters. That they thought, and fought, with their heart more than their head. Which made them damn fine hunters, everyone knew John Winchester’s reputation, and that the same fire was passed on to his boys, but it also meant all three of them needed someone to protect their backs. Bobby didn’t mind doing that for them. And with John Winchester gone now, that meant Bobby had to do that much more for the Winchester boys.
One more thing Bobby knew was that he wasn’t stupid. You don’t tell someone not to do something, when you know damn well they’re going to find someway to do it anyway. You don’t ignore something when it’s staring you in the face either.
Sam and Dean were going on a crusade for the demon regardless of whether or not Bobby helped them. And no matter how passionately he let his feelings against them going known, nothing was going to change that.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t give them all the protection he had access to. He was responsible for them now anyway.
The Impala gleamed in the sunlight as Bobby watched the boys pack the car, the older man amazed at how damn near like new it looked after being destined for the scrap heap.
“Before you boys leave…"
“Yeah Bobby?” Sam smiled as he walked over to the older man. If there was one person who was glad Bobby was taking them under his wing, it was Sam. That boy wanted so desperately to have something resembling normalcy… Bobby shook his head.
Bobby held out a folded sheet of paper. “It’s time for me to ditch my phone, so here’s the new number.” Sam nodded as he took the paper, reading the page and only listening to Bobby with a half-ear. “Sam, look, I know the two of you are going to hunt down the demon, and I can’t stop you, but I want you to protect yourselves. I want you to go to visit Tennessee, and she’ll give you protection that I can’t.”
“Bobby, we’re…”
“Fine, I know. You boys are always fine.” Bobby sighed. “Just think about it. And call me, anytime. I’ll call you boys in about a month, check in.” Bobby gripped Sam’s shoulder.
Sam folded up the sheet and stuffed it into his pocket, “Thanks Bobby.”
~~~
The Latin is soft at first, spilling from Sam’s lips like a reverend promise between them. Each major pulse point of Dean is kissed, making Dean go just that much more out of his mind and curse the cuffs that hold him.
The ink is cold at first, shocking his system for that fraction of a second it takes to hold back the sensations Sam creates in Dean; has always created in Dean. Dean almost feels as if the design is sinking into his bones, permanently marking him on the inside as Sam darkens the skin on the outside.
As Sam reaches the skin above his hipbone, and the design crosses below his navel, Dean feels as if his whole body is starting to hum, resonating in sync with the smooth baritone of Sam’s voice as Latin continues to fall from his lips.
The ink is on his arms now, and a heat starts to pool within Dean, almost as if Sam is inside him, preparing him, but Dean is fully aware Sam hasn’t been anywhere near his groin, is purposefully staying away.
Along the collar bone, finally, and Dean feels like he’s on fire, and it’s all he can do to keep still as Sam is in the final moments of the design; of using Dean as his living canvas. Sam applies the final stroke and Dean sounds desperate and breathless as he says, “I need you inside me, now.”
Sam finally looks at Dean, and he sees the smoldering sparkle in his eyes as Sam gives him a tonsil-clearing kiss and says, “It would be my pleasure.”
~~~
Tennessee lived in Cleveland, something Dean continued to find amusement in, and told Sam as much as many times as he could.
“It always amazes me that the people named after places are never anywhere near the place they’re named for. Once met a girl, had the firmest rack I’d ever felt, name was Tallahassee, but she lived in Seattle of all places. Seattle. Talk about East Coast, West Coast.” Dean said as ‘Jessica’ came through on the speakers and Sam was staring at the map, making sure they were going in the right direction.
“She should be just down this road, and I’ve already heard that one Dean.” Sam says in a bored tone.
Dean shrugs, “Just seems appropriate.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “Not everything is about the girls you’ve banged, you just wish it was.”
“Sure it isn’t Sammy.”
Sam grit his teeth for am moment then pointed to a slightly older apartment building through the Impala’s windshield. “There it is.”
Dean smoothly parked the car along the front of the building, parking behind a beat-up old Cadillac. The building itself wasn’t much to look at, a pure brick-face, with a front stoop leading up to the main door, and stairs that lead below the sidewalk down to the basement of the building. There was graffiti on the front and sides; generic tags done by some kids who wanted nothing more than to amuse themselves.
Sam walked up the steps and rang the doorbell, Dean choosing to stay on the sidewalk. The door opened on a young woman who was of distinctly Caribbean flair, with long tight cornrows that traveled all the way down to the middle of her back, braided in a plait. Her dark chocolate skin was freckled under her cheeks, belaying long days in the sun. She wore a long orange peasant skirt, and a white blouse.
“My brother and I… we’re looking for Tennessee?” Sam asked in what Dean liked to call his ‘polite voice’.
“I’m her.” The woman said, not budging from behind her front door, and not giving Sam an inch.
“Bobby… we got your name from Bobby, and we were hoping that we could talk to you about… protection.” Sam said cryptically.
Tennessee squinted her eyes. “Bobby… Sam and Dean Winchester.” The screen door opened. “Come in boys.” Her tone turned warmer. “I think I have what you’re looking for.”
Dean jogged up the steps and breezed past the door, Sam following behind. “Bobby didn’t tell us much about what you do…”
“That’s because Bobby doesn’t want to know everything.” Tennessee said seriously. “And what you don’t know…”
“Can hurt you.” Dean filled in.
“Well in this case, it’s the exact opposite. Don’t touch that.” Dean put down the globe that he was just about to palm and look through. He gave Sam a Look. “I know exactly what you boys need. Going after a demon from the Underground… you Winchesters never go halfway.”
“Did you… did you know our father.” Sam asked.
“My mother did. Taught me everything I know. Everything else, I’ve picked up on my own.” Tennessee opened a cabinet that smelled overpoweringly like dried sage.
“Okay, lets get this trinket or necklace, or whatever it is and skedaddle.” Dean said.
“No what you need is something a little stronger.” Tennessee said as she pulled out a bottle, “This is for you.” She said as she handed it to Sam.
“What is it?” The liquid inside the bottle was dark, so opaque it almost seemed to pull light in than refract it.
“A special henna ink for protection.” Tennessee told him. “And this is the design that activates it.” She handed over a sheet of paper with a distinctive pattern of swirls and lines, and a few phrases in Latin underneath.
“Tennessee this is…” Sam trailed off.
“You want to play with the big boys, this is what you need.” Tennessee pushed it back into Sam’s hands. “It plays well to your strengths.”
“Strengths?” Dean asked.
“Each other.” Tennessee smiled secretly.
~~~
Sam enters in one long thrust, going practically balls deep. Dean’s skin is still too much on fire for him to make any protest. “Gonna ride you so fucking hard.” Sam mutters into Dean’s ear. It didn’t take Dean long to realize Sam had the dirtiest mouth in the world when it came to sex, and Dean was only too happy to let Sam oblige.
Sam’s thrusts were hard and fast, almost as if he was being consumed by the same fire Dean was. Dean gripped the headboard tight, the grain of the wood almost seeming like it was imprinting itself on his palms.
Sam starts mouthing where he had bitten Dean earlier, trailing kisses up and down his neck. After lavishing attention on both shoulders, he started speaking in Latin again, the final phrase Tennessee had made them memorize verbatim coming in a crescendo.
The fire was the only thing that existed for Dean, a hot blaze that seemed like his whole world, besides Sam, inside him, marking him, making Dean his in all the ways that mattered anymore. It wasn’t until Sam released inside him that Dean finally let go, the fire and passion flooding from him like a dam that burst.
Sam was releasing him from the soft cuffs when Dean finally regained his sense. “Wow.” Dean felt along where Sam had applied the ink and felt only raised lines. Tennessee really knew her stuff apparently. Dean reminded himself to send Tennessee a card for giving her some of the best sex he’d had in a long long time.
“Yeah.” Sam collapsed next to him.
Dean leaned onto his elbow and reached across Sam for the bottle. “Wanna go again?”
The sparkle in Sam’s eyes was one Dean was intimately aware of. “Yeah.”
Title: Fire and Ink
Fandom: SPN
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: FRAO (incest is the fun 'cest)
Sam starts at the instep of his foot, planting a feather light kiss that feels more like a whisper against Dean’s foot than lips to skin contact. One of Sam’s hands is ghosting along the back of Dean’s knee, the other tracing a distinct pattern along his ankle.
Sam moves up ever so slowly, leaving a hot trail where his fingers had been only moments before. His hands blaze a new trail, one hand ghosting over his skin while the other continues to trace a pattern, whorls and lines becoming indistinguishable as Dean gets lost in the sensations Sam is pulling so expertly from him. The soft cuffs that hold him to the bed don’t help matters any.
Sam’s slow to reach Dean’s mouth, lavishing attention on Dean’s body everywhere except his groin. Dean has the fleeting thought that if Sam paid half the attention he did on his classes while he was at Stanford compared to how he was making him feel right now, then it was a damn shame he wasn’t going to be a lawyer.
“You ready?” Sam smiles into the kiss as he pushes against Dean, his erection sliding up against him, sending a shudder through Dean’s body.
“I was born ready.” Dean smiles back, the end of his sentence turning into a moan as Sam bites the hollow of his throat in response.
“You shit.” Sam laughs into his skin.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
~~~
Bobby knew a few things. Knew he wasn’t cut out for hunting anymore, not because the body wasn’t willing, which it wasn’t, but because neither was the spirit. He was happy to carve out his little corner, protect it up to the nines, and only stick his nose out when he needed to.
He also knew not to mess with the Winchesters. That they thought, and fought, with their heart more than their head. Which made them damn fine hunters, everyone knew John Winchester’s reputation, and that the same fire was passed on to his boys, but it also meant all three of them needed someone to protect their backs. Bobby didn’t mind doing that for them. And with John Winchester gone now, that meant Bobby had to do that much more for the Winchester boys.
One more thing Bobby knew was that he wasn’t stupid. You don’t tell someone not to do something, when you know damn well they’re going to find someway to do it anyway. You don’t ignore something when it’s staring you in the face either.
Sam and Dean were going on a crusade for the demon regardless of whether or not Bobby helped them. And no matter how passionately he let his feelings against them going known, nothing was going to change that.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t give them all the protection he had access to. He was responsible for them now anyway.
The Impala gleamed in the sunlight as Bobby watched the boys pack the car, the older man amazed at how damn near like new it looked after being destined for the scrap heap.
“Before you boys leave…"
“Yeah Bobby?” Sam smiled as he walked over to the older man. If there was one person who was glad Bobby was taking them under his wing, it was Sam. That boy wanted so desperately to have something resembling normalcy… Bobby shook his head.
Bobby held out a folded sheet of paper. “It’s time for me to ditch my phone, so here’s the new number.” Sam nodded as he took the paper, reading the page and only listening to Bobby with a half-ear. “Sam, look, I know the two of you are going to hunt down the demon, and I can’t stop you, but I want you to protect yourselves. I want you to go to visit Tennessee, and she’ll give you protection that I can’t.”
“Bobby, we’re…”
“Fine, I know. You boys are always fine.” Bobby sighed. “Just think about it. And call me, anytime. I’ll call you boys in about a month, check in.” Bobby gripped Sam’s shoulder.
Sam folded up the sheet and stuffed it into his pocket, “Thanks Bobby.”
~~~
The Latin is soft at first, spilling from Sam’s lips like a reverend promise between them. Each major pulse point of Dean is kissed, making Dean go just that much more out of his mind and curse the cuffs that hold him.
The ink is cold at first, shocking his system for that fraction of a second it takes to hold back the sensations Sam creates in Dean; has always created in Dean. Dean almost feels as if the design is sinking into his bones, permanently marking him on the inside as Sam darkens the skin on the outside.
As Sam reaches the skin above his hipbone, and the design crosses below his navel, Dean feels as if his whole body is starting to hum, resonating in sync with the smooth baritone of Sam’s voice as Latin continues to fall from his lips.
The ink is on his arms now, and a heat starts to pool within Dean, almost as if Sam is inside him, preparing him, but Dean is fully aware Sam hasn’t been anywhere near his groin, is purposefully staying away.
Along the collar bone, finally, and Dean feels like he’s on fire, and it’s all he can do to keep still as Sam is in the final moments of the design; of using Dean as his living canvas. Sam applies the final stroke and Dean sounds desperate and breathless as he says, “I need you inside me, now.”
Sam finally looks at Dean, and he sees the smoldering sparkle in his eyes as Sam gives him a tonsil-clearing kiss and says, “It would be my pleasure.”
~~~
Tennessee lived in Cleveland, something Dean continued to find amusement in, and told Sam as much as many times as he could.
“It always amazes me that the people named after places are never anywhere near the place they’re named for. Once met a girl, had the firmest rack I’d ever felt, name was Tallahassee, but she lived in Seattle of all places. Seattle. Talk about East Coast, West Coast.” Dean said as ‘Jessica’ came through on the speakers and Sam was staring at the map, making sure they were going in the right direction.
“She should be just down this road, and I’ve already heard that one Dean.” Sam says in a bored tone.
Dean shrugs, “Just seems appropriate.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “Not everything is about the girls you’ve banged, you just wish it was.”
“Sure it isn’t Sammy.”
Sam grit his teeth for am moment then pointed to a slightly older apartment building through the Impala’s windshield. “There it is.”
Dean smoothly parked the car along the front of the building, parking behind a beat-up old Cadillac. The building itself wasn’t much to look at, a pure brick-face, with a front stoop leading up to the main door, and stairs that lead below the sidewalk down to the basement of the building. There was graffiti on the front and sides; generic tags done by some kids who wanted nothing more than to amuse themselves.
Sam walked up the steps and rang the doorbell, Dean choosing to stay on the sidewalk. The door opened on a young woman who was of distinctly Caribbean flair, with long tight cornrows that traveled all the way down to the middle of her back, braided in a plait. Her dark chocolate skin was freckled under her cheeks, belaying long days in the sun. She wore a long orange peasant skirt, and a white blouse.
“My brother and I… we’re looking for Tennessee?” Sam asked in what Dean liked to call his ‘polite voice’.
“I’m her.” The woman said, not budging from behind her front door, and not giving Sam an inch.
“Bobby… we got your name from Bobby, and we were hoping that we could talk to you about… protection.” Sam said cryptically.
Tennessee squinted her eyes. “Bobby… Sam and Dean Winchester.” The screen door opened. “Come in boys.” Her tone turned warmer. “I think I have what you’re looking for.”
Dean jogged up the steps and breezed past the door, Sam following behind. “Bobby didn’t tell us much about what you do…”
“That’s because Bobby doesn’t want to know everything.” Tennessee said seriously. “And what you don’t know…”
“Can hurt you.” Dean filled in.
“Well in this case, it’s the exact opposite. Don’t touch that.” Dean put down the globe that he was just about to palm and look through. He gave Sam a Look. “I know exactly what you boys need. Going after a demon from the Underground… you Winchesters never go halfway.”
“Did you… did you know our father.” Sam asked.
“My mother did. Taught me everything I know. Everything else, I’ve picked up on my own.” Tennessee opened a cabinet that smelled overpoweringly like dried sage.
“Okay, lets get this trinket or necklace, or whatever it is and skedaddle.” Dean said.
“No what you need is something a little stronger.” Tennessee said as she pulled out a bottle, “This is for you.” She said as she handed it to Sam.
“What is it?” The liquid inside the bottle was dark, so opaque it almost seemed to pull light in than refract it.
“A special henna ink for protection.” Tennessee told him. “And this is the design that activates it.” She handed over a sheet of paper with a distinctive pattern of swirls and lines, and a few phrases in Latin underneath.
“Tennessee this is…” Sam trailed off.
“You want to play with the big boys, this is what you need.” Tennessee pushed it back into Sam’s hands. “It plays well to your strengths.”
“Strengths?” Dean asked.
“Each other.” Tennessee smiled secretly.
~~~
Sam enters in one long thrust, going practically balls deep. Dean’s skin is still too much on fire for him to make any protest. “Gonna ride you so fucking hard.” Sam mutters into Dean’s ear. It didn’t take Dean long to realize Sam had the dirtiest mouth in the world when it came to sex, and Dean was only too happy to let Sam oblige.
Sam’s thrusts were hard and fast, almost as if he was being consumed by the same fire Dean was. Dean gripped the headboard tight, the grain of the wood almost seeming like it was imprinting itself on his palms.
Sam starts mouthing where he had bitten Dean earlier, trailing kisses up and down his neck. After lavishing attention on both shoulders, he started speaking in Latin again, the final phrase Tennessee had made them memorize verbatim coming in a crescendo.
The fire was the only thing that existed for Dean, a hot blaze that seemed like his whole world, besides Sam, inside him, marking him, making Dean his in all the ways that mattered anymore. It wasn’t until Sam released inside him that Dean finally let go, the fire and passion flooding from him like a dam that burst.
Sam was releasing him from the soft cuffs when Dean finally regained his sense. “Wow.” Dean felt along where Sam had applied the ink and felt only raised lines. Tennessee really knew her stuff apparently. Dean reminded himself to send Tennessee a card for giving her some of the best sex he’d had in a long long time.
“Yeah.” Sam collapsed next to him.
Dean leaned onto his elbow and reached across Sam for the bottle. “Wanna go again?”
The sparkle in Sam’s eyes was one Dean was intimately aware of. “Yeah.”