350,000 apps. And counting
Title: 350,000 apps. And counting.
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,700
Warnings: Incest, crack
Summary: Sam gives Dean a brand new Iphone and Dean wonders where he's been his whole life without the Apps Store. Who knew that it could be so... inspiring.
Author's Note: I wrote this over the Christmas break and never got to post it because I wasn't sure if I wanted to. This is my apology for taking so long with the Magic!Verse. The app mentioned is real and after it was brought to my attention by a friend over lunch, we couldn't think of a more hilarious use for it. Enjoy!
When Sam had first given it to Dean, his first words were, “Where are the numbers?” as he flipped the almost flat piece of plastic and metal between his fingers.
Sam had huffed, pulled his chair a little closer beside Dean and taken the device from his brother. “No, Dean. It’s a touch screen. The keys will appear when you turn it on.”
Dean scrunched his face up and scratched his head as he said more than a little irritated, “Why do I have it, Sam?”
Sam rolled his eyes and did something that Dean didn’t understand. The screen lit up and a little white apple appeared. Sam opened his laptop, plugged a chord into the side of it and booted up another program. Dean sat back and looked around, bored as hell, while Sam typed random shit in and fiddled with the thing.
“You get the do-hickey to work, I’m gonna have a shower.” Dean mumbled as he pushed himself up from the incredibly uncomfortable chair.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
What Dean didn’t know was that after he got past how convenient having his mobile and favorite music and internet access in the one place was, there were these awesome things call apps. Dean has no clue what that’s supposed to stand for but he couldn’t care less considering that there were ‘apps’ for everything. And he means everything. Hundreds of games that his 10 year old attention span loves like poker, shooting games and apps that even made his photos look like they’re on acid.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice cuts through the haze of Dean’s voice.
“Huh?” He asks looking up with a blank expression as the vibrant, up-beat, arcade like jingles rise up from underneath the table and the sounds from the other diner patrons begin to come back.
“We’re supposed to be looking for the Furfur that’s been killing people!”
Dean pouts and clicks the main button to open Safari.
After a few minutes he raises his head with disbelief and says, “Magic triangle?” Sam huffs and nods. “Really, Sam, a fucking deer that tells lies? This is what we’re giving up our days to research? A deer and geometry.” Sam’s forehead creases for a moment and Dean can’t help but ask, “What?”
Sam shrugs, “Nothing, I just… I didn’t know that you knew words like geometry.”
Dean throws a large stale and overly salted chip at his brother, “Bitch.”
Sam doesn’t reply but instead smiles crookedly and stares at Dean for a while.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So, as it turns out, the Furfur was pretty damn destructive. Not only did it cause at least 11 suicides in the last month but also caused around 8 cases of homicide.
When Sam and Dean push through the door of their motel, it definitely isn’t the way they thought they would come back. After Dean created the ‘magic triangle’ out of rock salt and powdered iron the little bitch was caught but what Sam and Dean didn’t know was that once inside the fucking thing turned into a woman. Perfectly fair skin, blonde hair and huge blue eyes, (and hey, she had a pretty good rack too if Dean was concerned.) But what they hadn’t really considered was the part where the demon spoke the truest thoughts and feelings of those around her once she was caught in said triangle.
So that is how Sam and Dean ended up bursting through the motel door, slamming each other into any flat surface possible and kissing one another breathless.
“Why,” Dean kisses Sam again, sucking his lip in between his own and drawing out a long, strained groan from his brother, “Why didn’t you say anything?” Dean rasps, hand wrapping around Sam's neck as hands grip Dean’s waist and turn them around toward the bed. Sam’s hands are frantic as they tug and pull at Dean’s belt.
“Why didn’t I?” Sam sucks on Dean’s throat and Dean squeezes his eyes shut as he works his hands up his brothers shirt. “Why didn’t you?”
Not only did this Furfur cause 11 suicides and 8 homicides but it also caused one count of incest.
Hey, could’ve been worse…
Kinda.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So sex with Sam is now Dean’s favorite thing to do and that’s saying something. He just got a new app on his Iphone and damn proud that he’s almost worked out how to defeat General Geo and the evil geometric minions. Dean thought he would be sick of geometry by now but fuck, when they put it in game form it’s like a billion times better.
Sam and Dean haven’t been shy with each other. They have fucked in the impala, on the impala, while Dean drove the impala (Sam’s hands are amazing.), with Sam riding Dean, against a wall, in a cinema and on a park bench somewhere and Dean’s really happy.
He never thought for a second that he would consider their sex-life boring but after Dean downloads his 48th app in a week he discovers that it could be a whole lot better. Tipping his head to the side to try and work out how the cartoons have been slotted together, Dean’s eyes bug out as he gets a hot pang of arousal when the people on his little screen suddenly turn into himself and his brother.
“Shit…” Dean mumbles and looks down at his crotch to see that he has really taken an interest in this particular app.
“Trying to kill General Geo again, Dean?” Sam asks from across the room.
Dean clears his throat when his words come out croaked, “No.”
And then the decision is made. They have to try this.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 28, Romp with a View
http://www.cosmopolitan.com/cm/cosmopolitan/images/qc/romp-with-a-view-sp-md.jpg
“Dean? What’re you…” Sam hisses, “Fuck, Dean. What the fuck?!”
Dean lowers Sam’s right leg a little, “Sorry, just… um…relax?”
“Relax?! Relax? You’re trying to rip me in half.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I’m not that flexible, Dean!”
Dean pouts and they have sex the normal way. Well, as normal as gay incestuous sex can be.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 53, Arc De Triomph
http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&size=l&tid=28647399
Dean grunts as Sam sinks down on his cock. Sam hovers above him, his knees braced next to Dean’s hips. Sam looks down at Dean, sweat sticking his long hair to the sides of his face and already looking fucked out. “Okay… now…” Dean instructs, “Lean back.”
Sam’s eyes, which were shut, snap open and he stares at his brother. “What?”
“Just, lean back.” Dean says calmly as he places a palm on Sam’s chest and pushes his torso down, Sam’s back tilting towards the floor. Dean makes sure that Sam’s knees crawl upward so that his ass stays perfectly snug around Dean’s cock.
Dean takes Sam’s hands in his and he can see as his brother is trying not to lean any further but Dean relaxes the muscles in his arms and slowly lowers Sam further. Sam gets about half way, his thighs just centimeters from touching his calves before he starts wincing. “Dean…”
“Shh… you’re fine.” Dean tries to tilt Sam a little further toward the ground.
~*~ 15 minutes later ~*~
“You’re an ass.” Sam says bluntly as he shifts the ice pack from thigh to thigh. “Now I won’t be able to help you gank that poltergeist in Shepardsville because my fucking rectus femoris was pulled while my brother and I fucked!” Sam pouts and crosses his arms.
“You pulled your ass muscle?” Dean says confused.
“No! Rectus Femoris is the muscles in the thigh. God, Dean. Didn’t you listen at all in Bio?”
Dean shakes his head, “Nah, I was too busy studying the gorgeous blonde in front of me.” He recalls fondly as he takes another pull from his beer.
“You’re a dick.”
“Oh, don’t be like that.” Dean scoffs and walks over to sit beside his brother.
He jerks Sam off and it really isn’t that bad.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 15, Row His Boat
http://www.cosmopolitan.com/cm/cosmopolitan/images/l3/row-his-boat-sp-md.jpg
Sam’s on the phone, pacing back and forth throughout the apartment and gesturing wildly as he talks to Bobby about their next case.
Dean leans back in his chair and just watches Sam. He’s all long legs, muscle and soft, tanned skin. Dean crooks his finger when he catches his brother’s eye and motions him to come forward with a wicked look on his face. Sam steps closer hesitantly and when Dean looks up he can see the pure confusion on his brother’s face.
Mouthing the words ‘boots’, Dean looks down and pats his thigh, hinting Sam to bring his foot up and unties his brothers shoelaces and pulls them off. Dean then goes to work on Sam’s belt and within two minutes and a lot of silent swearing, flailing and Sam trying to stay on topic while he listens to what Bobby has to say about the Incubus that has been sodomizing gay couples and making them have sex continuously for days before they die of dehydration and starvation, he is finally free of his jeans.
Dean is rubbing Sam through his boxers and causing his hips to jerk forward of their own will and Sam’s eyes flutter shut as he tries to not groan out loud and have Bobby figure it out.
“So hot…” Dean says slowly, biting on his lips and pulling Sam closer so that he stands in the wide V of his spread legs.
Sam places his thumb over the microphone on his phone and quickly leans down to kiss Dean slowly but is ripped out of his world filled with pleasure and excitement when he hears Bobby yell, “Sam! Are you listenin’ to me?”
Dean kisses him quickly again and Sam has to forcefully break Dean’s grip on him before he can say, “Mm… Sorry Bobby. Dean’s being a jerk and distracting me.” Sam knows that his brother will stare at him with that look that says, “What the fuck are you doing, you little shit?”
“Well, tell your brother that he needs to be serious for a second and concentrate!”
Dean smirks when he can hear Bobby’s voice audibly from the small tinny speaker. “Sorry Bobby!” He replies and Sam smiles at him.
His brother continues to stare down at him while Dean slowly undoes his own belt and zipper, taking a small bottle of lube from his pocket before lifting his hips and lowering his jeans and boxers to below his knees. Dean quirks an eyebrow challenging his younger brother and gestures for Sam to take a seat.
The seat is just big enough for Sam to place his legs on either side of Dean’s hips, feet flat on the floor as he stands above Dean’s waist with one hand holding the mobile to his ear and one hand gripping the back of the chair besides Dean’s head.
Dean makes quick work at coating his fingers and cock liberally before he opens his brother up for him. Sam’s mouth opens in a silent groan as he squeezes his eyes shut trying his best to not beg Dean to forget pre-cautions and just fuck him.
“So Sam, whaddya think?” Bobby’s rough voice rings in his ear.
Sam jumps when he is reminded that there is someone on the phone and he quickly backtracks through the conversation.
…Something about the victims and patterns.
“I - uh - I don’t know, Bobby.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
When Sam is finally ready he sinks himself down onto his brother’s lap and holds his breath as he is slowly filled.
When he is fully seated Dean begins to suck and nip at Sam’s chest and it is all a bit too much.
“Sorry, Bobby. What was that again?”
Bobby sighs dramatically and begins to retell Sam all the information again and this time Sam really tries to listen as Dean begins to roll his hips agonizingly slow.
Sam places his forehead on Dean’s shoulder and pants silently as he attempts to set the pace a little faster.
They’re out of their minds, riding high on sensation and sharing close proximity, that they don’t really take notice that the chair that is supporting them is creaking and slowly rocking back and forth with their thrusts.
And with one loud and sudden crack the chair breaks from underneath them.
Dean yelps as his ass hits the hard carpet. Sam does something between a squawk and a groan when he lands on top of Dean forcing his cock in deep and brutal. The mobile clatters to the floor and Sam rolls off of his brother wincing before Dean flops backward.
“What the fuck is going on?” Bobby yells.
Sam reaches for the phone, brings the microphone to his mouth and says, “’M gonna have to call you back, Bobby.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 34, Sexy Scissors
http://www.cosmopolitan.com/cm/cosmopolitan/images/E5/sexy-scissor-sp-md.jpg
After a hunt went wrong, Dean’s heart is still beating at the same rate as just over half an hour ago when he had finally found his brother after he was kidnapped by the ghost of an insane doctor for almost 16 hours. Dean hadn’t known whether his little brother was alive or dead or screaming in pain and he couldn’t hold back from kissing him hard and gripping his neck to hold him as close as possible.
Dean kicks the door shut with his boot and pulls Sam’s dripping wet T-shirt over his head, quickly returning to kiss his brother when they are forced apart by the material. One hand rises to card through Sam’s long, drenched hair as his palm and thumb stroke the damp skin of his younger brother’s neck.
He will never admit that the content of the sex position app is seared into his head by the amount of times that he has looked at it. It’s like his memory shuffles and suddenly a picture is flashing neon bright inside of his head and he can’t wait to make Sam forget every second that he was away from Dean, every moment that he was with that head case of a ghost, but mostly he wants to forget about those terrifying hours that he had to consider that maybe Sam was gone. Not Dead. He would’ve never considered death but that maybe Dean wouldn’t find him. But now his Sammy is fine. He is still alive and now safe with Dean.
Sam grunts as Dean backs him toward a table, the younger man quickly sitting on it and wrapping his legs around him.
“Never,” Dean gasps as he quickly rips his shirt up over his head. “Never gonna let that happen again.” He kisses Sam quickly and presses their foreheads together, “’M sorry, Sam.”
“It’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.” Sam repeats like his brain is on a loop and not quite able to come up with anything else.
Dean quickly pulls Sam’s belt out of its belt loops and undoes the zipper before he pushes Sam’s back down to lay against the cold wood.
He watches as Sam shivers at the contrast of temperature, goosebumps prickling his skin and Dean can’t help but run his hands over his hips, his stomach, his chest and then glides them down Sam’s sides, smoothing the tiny bumps down before kissing him softer this time, nudging Sam’s lips apart with a teasing swipe of tongue over his bottom lip. Sam is quick to comply, trailing his tongue over Dean’s and making him groan.
Dean quickly takes one large step across the 4 foot distance between the bed (they don’t even bother ordering twin rooms anymore.) and the table to swipe the lube from the messy bed spread the night before. As Dean turns back to his brother his lips part slightly and his eyes bug out as he takes in the sight of Sam completely nude, legs spread apart and hand stroking his cock.
The corner of his lip curls upward and he quickly uncaps the little bottle and coats his fingers. He knows he should be careful, gentle. But Dean’s brain is only chanting, ”Sammy. Now. Need. Sammy. Now.”
He quickly prepares his brother, just enough and slide on home. He stands between the V of his brother’s legs. Sam’s head snaps backward and releases a guttural moan and when he sinks in to the hilt, Dean has to take a second to catch his breath and back away from the edge of orgasm or this will end way sooner then he wants it too.
“Fuck.” Sam’s breathing is shaky. “Oh god, Dean.”
Dean gives Sam his classic ‘I’m awesome’ smirk and begins to thrust slowly, experimentally and Sam inhales sharply. His long legs dangle over the table’s edge and Dean begins to roll his hips in sharp punches that have Sam gasping and wincing (in a totally good way.) and swearing as he pushes back against Dean, meeting every thrust.
Bending his knees slightly, Dean helps Sam bring his feet to rest on the edge of the table and wraps his fingers around his brother’s ankles. He continues rolling his hips in small circles, thrusting deep and slowly, he brings Sam’s legs upward, almost folding him in half before moving his hands to his brothers calves and when Dean rests Sam’s legs on his shoulders Sam finally pipes up.
“What’re you…” Sam groans. “Fuck! What’re you doing?”
“Give me a second…” Dean mumbles and holds his brother’s legs vertical.
“Seriously, Dean. What the - unf - fuck?”
“Wait…” Dean crosses Sam’s ankles over and Sam gasps.
“Jesus Christ!” He grunts and pushes back against Dean’s hips. “Oh - fuck!”
He uncrosses Sam’s leg with a forceful thrust and repeats overlapping and separating his brother’s ankles in an erratic rhythm to his thrusts. Dean can feel the fiery heat filling his veins, replacing his blood and leaving him primal and dominate.
One of Sam’s hands that was gripping the edge of the table moves to his cock and Dean watches as the thick muscles in Sam’s arm works as he jerks himself.
“De - Dean! I’m - fuck! - I’m coming.” Sam shudders and suddenly an ankle of his is no longer in Dean’s grip. In a flash, one of Sam’s freakishly long legs is tucked against his torso and before Dean can say ‘son of a -’ Sam’s foot comes flying at him and connects with Dean’s jaw.
Dean stumbles backward on the stain covered motel floor, lower spine hitting the back of the even more questionable couch and flipping over it.
“Shit!” Sam - as quickly as humanly possible after coming - jumps off of the table and pads toward his brother, crouching down and trying his best not to laugh while asking if he’s okay.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 67, the Hot Rod
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jQedbrkWrIQ/SxhNpsKswyI/AAAAAAAAFM8/sUtndRWk92Y/s400/the-hot-rod-sp_md.jpg
You’d think Dean would learn… but this one looked too tempting to try… What could go wrong?
Well…
Shut up.
Dean draws back the curtain of the shower and smiles when Sam makes eye contact with him from under the spray of hot water. Dean climbs over the baths edge and creeps in behind his brother. The bruises from the days earlier were beginning to fade but they were nothing compared to what they would get from an everyday hunt.
Sam tilts his head, opening his mouth momentarily to let some of the water seep into his mouth before he says, “What has gotten into you? You’ve been really…creative…lately.”
Turning his brother around, Dean smiles at Sam and presses up against him so that they share the spray of hot water. They kiss. Neither one of them knows who initiated it and neither care. It’s slow and sensual, no fight for dominance, no claiming, no owning, just absolute enjoyment.
Sam’s hands slide down Dean’s chest and make their way to his brother’s hips. Dean’s fingers twine Sam’s long hair before he deepens the kiss, tongue pushing in and twisting with Sam’s making the younger man shudder slightly before he nips Dean’s bottom lip when they finally break apart.
“Mm… Good morning to you too,” Sam says with a smile that is all for Dean. No-one else gets that smile. It’s a look that is pure happiness and serenity. Dean doesn’t get to see it very often but he remembers when they were kids, before Sam had begged Dean to tell him why their father left so often, Dean saw it almost every day and if something bad happened Dean would take care of it, be it bullies, mother’s day, or leaving another town Dean would always be able to get at least a fraction of this one look and he knew that tomorrow would just be another day. He huffs amusedly, “That bruise is looking better.” As he runs his thumb over the paling purple and yellow bruise that covers a better half of Dean’s jaw and cheek.
“You are an ass.” Dean shakes his head and Sam smiles at him again before nipping it quickly. “OW!” Dean totally doesn’t yelp.
Sam laughs, full heartedly, “You’re getting weak, Dean.” He says contently, “Must be gettin’ older.”
“Okay, now you’re being a bitch.” He says poking a bruise from their earlier hunt - nothing too dangerous, just a nymph that got a little forceful - and Sam flinches away with a barely serious glare.
Sam turns around to find his soap and when he does Dean takes a moment to just appreciate the view. He holds Sam in place when he tries to turn back around by gripping his hips tightly, running his nose up the long column of his brother’s neck and grazing his teeth across the sensitive skin. Sam buries his fingers in the soft, wet spikes of Dean’s hair as he presses closer against his brother’s warm, broad chest.
When Dean presses an open mouthed kiss behind Sam’s ear, Sam can’t help the shaky groan that falls from his lips as his head tips backward to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean sighs appreciatively when Sam pushes his ass backward to rub his thickening cock as heat sparks low in his belly, hotter than the water that is running over each of their bodies.
Reaching a hand toward Sam’s forgotten soap, Dean takes the red bar and rolls it between his palms, agitating the bubbles into a soft, silky lather that he rubs onto Sam’s chest. His brother visibly relaxes and sinks against Dean as he allows Sam to rest against him, Dean will always hold his Sammy up.
Dean continues to rub small circles over Sam’s chest, his flat stomach and Dean can’t help it when his hands travel south along with his mind. Dean tilts his gaze to watch as Sam’s eyes flutter shut and his tongue snakes out to run over his bottom lip before he sucks it in between his teeth.
He strokes his brother’s cock slowly, leisurely, taking his time and forgetting about the world outside the shower curtain. Twisting his wrist at the head, Sam gasps and Dean feels him shudder violently against his stomach.
“Mm, so good for your big brother, aren’t you, baby?” Dean whispers into his ear and Sam nods.
Dean thrusts his dick forward against his brother’s ass before taking a small step backwards to line himself up. Sam was prepped from before, when they had woken up and by the time Sam came back from the doughnuts and coffee place down the block Dean was raring to go again but Sam had smacked his hands away and gestures toward the greasy paper bag and had whined, “Dean, seriously, you're like a dog in heat.” And even though Sam had pointed out Dean's own version of the 'bitch-face', Dean thoroughly denied it.
Sam bends slightly at the waist, bracing himself by gripping the soap dish that juts out from the tiled wall and hangs his head low, between his shoulders as he concentrates on breathing as Dean slides in slowly to the hilt. Releasing a shaky breath, Sam nods hinting to Dean that it’s okay to continue and Dean sighs happily. Pulling out and pushing in, it’s an amazing feeling, hot and tight around him, squeezing perfectly.
Exhaling shakily as hot water keeps them both warm, one of Sam’s hands reaches back to lace his fingers into Dean’s hair, twisting his head and breathing out against Dean’s cheek. “God, Dean. Uh, fuck.”
Dean sucks on Sam’s neck, leaving teeth marks behind as Sam pushes himself backward and Dean begins to see stars.
Blindly, Dean reaches for the shower head and pulls it downward so that the strong, warm spray is hitting Sammy directly on dick.
Sam shudders and moans out a satisfied, ‘Oh fuck.’
Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, Dean slides a hand down one of Sam’s long thighs before wrapping his fingers around the flesh and moving Sam’s foot to rest on the edge of the bath. He caresses the wiry hair that covers his brother’s legs before wrapping his fingers around the hard jut of Sam’s hip bone, rolling his hips harder, tilting his hips in attempt to find that spot, the one that makes his brother cry out in sheer bliss.
He knows when he finds it because Sam’s loud intake of breath almost shocks him out of his mindless race towards coming and he smirks, focuses on that spot and pushes in slow, calculated thrusts as his basic instinct is telling him to rut forward and take what he wants.
“Shit, Dean. God, faster, please. Fuck me faster.” Sam pleads.
Dean places both hands of Sam’s hips and uses the grip to set a punishing speed, water completely forgotten and barely anything more than background noise.
He isn’t sure if he imagines it but after a few moments of absolute pleasure, Dean wonders if he actually heard that tiny squeak before his gigantor of a brother is losing his balance and falling past the shower curtain. His huge hands fly to try and grasp it but it’s no use as they both topple out of the shower and land awkwardly and painfully on the cold and brutally hard bathroom tiles.
Legs and arms are everywhere and Dean is barely sure which ones are his and which are Sammy’s but in the end and after many hissed curses from his younger brother, both men find what limbs belong to them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Never again.” Sam groans, towel wrapped around his waist as he lies down on their bed. “We are never fucking ever again.”
Dean most certainly does not pout.
“Seriously, it’s more dangerous than hunting!” Sam continues.
“Shut up.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next day, they decide to sleep in. The big bad monster of the week was killed and if anything important came up, Dean was sure that Bobby would call them and let them know. Well, kind of sure, anyway.
Sam is watching some lame-ass drama shit and Dean’s body hurts too much to actually wrestle his brother for the remote, so he fishes out his phone and flicks through his downloaded apps.
When he comes across the little hot pink icon he wonders why none of the positions worked for them. He had bent, manipulated and pushed Sam into the proper pose but for some reason something always had a way of fucking with them - and not in the good way. Half of Dean wonders whether the Trickster had anything to do with it.
He opens the application and scrolls to find The Hot Rod to try and figure out what went wrong. Dean studies the picture for a good long while and nothing comes to mind, he doesn’t understand why the cosmos is screwing around with his sexual escapes! What did he ever do to her? (And of course it’s a her because bitches know how to hold a fucking grudge!)
Sam’s shoulder bumps Dean causing the pad of his thumb to slide upward on the screen and suddenly Dean can see letters. Letters that morph into words?
He scrolls down and little further and... “sonuva...”He curses.
Sam turns a concerned expression towards his brother, “What?”
Dean can feel the humiliation creep up into his cheeks, the fiery hot burn of it completely unwelcome, by his opinion.
“There were... instructions.” He grits out.
‘Position 67, the Hot Rod -
User Rating: 4.1
Difficulty: 3
Climax: 4.6
Instructions:
Before executing, please place an anti-slip bath mat for safety...’
‘Position 15, Row His Boat -
User Rating: 4.5
Difficulty: 4
Climax: 4
Instructions:
Please note: Use a sturdy, comfortable chair.
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,700
Warnings: Incest, crack
Summary: Sam gives Dean a brand new Iphone and Dean wonders where he's been his whole life without the Apps Store. Who knew that it could be so... inspiring.
Author's Note: I wrote this over the Christmas break and never got to post it because I wasn't sure if I wanted to. This is my apology for taking so long with the Magic!Verse. The app mentioned is real and after it was brought to my attention by a friend over lunch, we couldn't think of a more hilarious use for it. Enjoy!
When Sam had first given it to Dean, his first words were, “Where are the numbers?” as he flipped the almost flat piece of plastic and metal between his fingers.
Sam had huffed, pulled his chair a little closer beside Dean and taken the device from his brother. “No, Dean. It’s a touch screen. The keys will appear when you turn it on.”
Dean scrunched his face up and scratched his head as he said more than a little irritated, “Why do I have it, Sam?”
Sam rolled his eyes and did something that Dean didn’t understand. The screen lit up and a little white apple appeared. Sam opened his laptop, plugged a chord into the side of it and booted up another program. Dean sat back and looked around, bored as hell, while Sam typed random shit in and fiddled with the thing.
“You get the do-hickey to work, I’m gonna have a shower.” Dean mumbled as he pushed himself up from the incredibly uncomfortable chair.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
What Dean didn’t know was that after he got past how convenient having his mobile and favorite music and internet access in the one place was, there were these awesome things call apps. Dean has no clue what that’s supposed to stand for but he couldn’t care less considering that there were ‘apps’ for everything. And he means everything. Hundreds of games that his 10 year old attention span loves like poker, shooting games and apps that even made his photos look like they’re on acid.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice cuts through the haze of Dean’s voice.
“Huh?” He asks looking up with a blank expression as the vibrant, up-beat, arcade like jingles rise up from underneath the table and the sounds from the other diner patrons begin to come back.
“We’re supposed to be looking for the Furfur that’s been killing people!”
Dean pouts and clicks the main button to open Safari.
After a few minutes he raises his head with disbelief and says, “Magic triangle?” Sam huffs and nods. “Really, Sam, a fucking deer that tells lies? This is what we’re giving up our days to research? A deer and geometry.” Sam’s forehead creases for a moment and Dean can’t help but ask, “What?”
Sam shrugs, “Nothing, I just… I didn’t know that you knew words like geometry.”
Dean throws a large stale and overly salted chip at his brother, “Bitch.”
Sam doesn’t reply but instead smiles crookedly and stares at Dean for a while.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So, as it turns out, the Furfur was pretty damn destructive. Not only did it cause at least 11 suicides in the last month but also caused around 8 cases of homicide.
When Sam and Dean push through the door of their motel, it definitely isn’t the way they thought they would come back. After Dean created the ‘magic triangle’ out of rock salt and powdered iron the little bitch was caught but what Sam and Dean didn’t know was that once inside the fucking thing turned into a woman. Perfectly fair skin, blonde hair and huge blue eyes, (and hey, she had a pretty good rack too if Dean was concerned.) But what they hadn’t really considered was the part where the demon spoke the truest thoughts and feelings of those around her once she was caught in said triangle.
So that is how Sam and Dean ended up bursting through the motel door, slamming each other into any flat surface possible and kissing one another breathless.
“Why,” Dean kisses Sam again, sucking his lip in between his own and drawing out a long, strained groan from his brother, “Why didn’t you say anything?” Dean rasps, hand wrapping around Sam's neck as hands grip Dean’s waist and turn them around toward the bed. Sam’s hands are frantic as they tug and pull at Dean’s belt.
“Why didn’t I?” Sam sucks on Dean’s throat and Dean squeezes his eyes shut as he works his hands up his brothers shirt. “Why didn’t you?”
Not only did this Furfur cause 11 suicides and 8 homicides but it also caused one count of incest.
Hey, could’ve been worse…
Kinda.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So sex with Sam is now Dean’s favorite thing to do and that’s saying something. He just got a new app on his Iphone and damn proud that he’s almost worked out how to defeat General Geo and the evil geometric minions. Dean thought he would be sick of geometry by now but fuck, when they put it in game form it’s like a billion times better.
Sam and Dean haven’t been shy with each other. They have fucked in the impala, on the impala, while Dean drove the impala (Sam’s hands are amazing.), with Sam riding Dean, against a wall, in a cinema and on a park bench somewhere and Dean’s really happy.
He never thought for a second that he would consider their sex-life boring but after Dean downloads his 48th app in a week he discovers that it could be a whole lot better. Tipping his head to the side to try and work out how the cartoons have been slotted together, Dean’s eyes bug out as he gets a hot pang of arousal when the people on his little screen suddenly turn into himself and his brother.
“Shit…” Dean mumbles and looks down at his crotch to see that he has really taken an interest in this particular app.
“Trying to kill General Geo again, Dean?” Sam asks from across the room.
Dean clears his throat when his words come out croaked, “No.”
And then the decision is made. They have to try this.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 28, Romp with a View
http://www.cosmopolitan.com/cm/cosmopolitan/images/qc/romp-with-a-view-sp-md.jpg
“Dean? What’re you…” Sam hisses, “Fuck, Dean. What the fuck?!”
Dean lowers Sam’s right leg a little, “Sorry, just… um…relax?”
“Relax?! Relax? You’re trying to rip me in half.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I’m not that flexible, Dean!”
Dean pouts and they have sex the normal way. Well, as normal as gay incestuous sex can be.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 53, Arc De Triomph
http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&size=l&tid=28647399
Dean grunts as Sam sinks down on his cock. Sam hovers above him, his knees braced next to Dean’s hips. Sam looks down at Dean, sweat sticking his long hair to the sides of his face and already looking fucked out. “Okay… now…” Dean instructs, “Lean back.”
Sam’s eyes, which were shut, snap open and he stares at his brother. “What?”
“Just, lean back.” Dean says calmly as he places a palm on Sam’s chest and pushes his torso down, Sam’s back tilting towards the floor. Dean makes sure that Sam’s knees crawl upward so that his ass stays perfectly snug around Dean’s cock.
Dean takes Sam’s hands in his and he can see as his brother is trying not to lean any further but Dean relaxes the muscles in his arms and slowly lowers Sam further. Sam gets about half way, his thighs just centimeters from touching his calves before he starts wincing. “Dean…”
“Shh… you’re fine.” Dean tries to tilt Sam a little further toward the ground.
~*~ 15 minutes later ~*~
“You’re an ass.” Sam says bluntly as he shifts the ice pack from thigh to thigh. “Now I won’t be able to help you gank that poltergeist in Shepardsville because my fucking rectus femoris was pulled while my brother and I fucked!” Sam pouts and crosses his arms.
“You pulled your ass muscle?” Dean says confused.
“No! Rectus Femoris is the muscles in the thigh. God, Dean. Didn’t you listen at all in Bio?”
Dean shakes his head, “Nah, I was too busy studying the gorgeous blonde in front of me.” He recalls fondly as he takes another pull from his beer.
“You’re a dick.”
“Oh, don’t be like that.” Dean scoffs and walks over to sit beside his brother.
He jerks Sam off and it really isn’t that bad.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 15, Row His Boat
http://www.cosmopolitan.com/cm/cosmopolitan/images/l3/row-his-boat-sp-md.jpg
Sam’s on the phone, pacing back and forth throughout the apartment and gesturing wildly as he talks to Bobby about their next case.
Dean leans back in his chair and just watches Sam. He’s all long legs, muscle and soft, tanned skin. Dean crooks his finger when he catches his brother’s eye and motions him to come forward with a wicked look on his face. Sam steps closer hesitantly and when Dean looks up he can see the pure confusion on his brother’s face.
Mouthing the words ‘boots’, Dean looks down and pats his thigh, hinting Sam to bring his foot up and unties his brothers shoelaces and pulls them off. Dean then goes to work on Sam’s belt and within two minutes and a lot of silent swearing, flailing and Sam trying to stay on topic while he listens to what Bobby has to say about the Incubus that has been sodomizing gay couples and making them have sex continuously for days before they die of dehydration and starvation, he is finally free of his jeans.
Dean is rubbing Sam through his boxers and causing his hips to jerk forward of their own will and Sam’s eyes flutter shut as he tries to not groan out loud and have Bobby figure it out.
“So hot…” Dean says slowly, biting on his lips and pulling Sam closer so that he stands in the wide V of his spread legs.
Sam places his thumb over the microphone on his phone and quickly leans down to kiss Dean slowly but is ripped out of his world filled with pleasure and excitement when he hears Bobby yell, “Sam! Are you listenin’ to me?”
Dean kisses him quickly again and Sam has to forcefully break Dean’s grip on him before he can say, “Mm… Sorry Bobby. Dean’s being a jerk and distracting me.” Sam knows that his brother will stare at him with that look that says, “What the fuck are you doing, you little shit?”
“Well, tell your brother that he needs to be serious for a second and concentrate!”
Dean smirks when he can hear Bobby’s voice audibly from the small tinny speaker. “Sorry Bobby!” He replies and Sam smiles at him.
His brother continues to stare down at him while Dean slowly undoes his own belt and zipper, taking a small bottle of lube from his pocket before lifting his hips and lowering his jeans and boxers to below his knees. Dean quirks an eyebrow challenging his younger brother and gestures for Sam to take a seat.
The seat is just big enough for Sam to place his legs on either side of Dean’s hips, feet flat on the floor as he stands above Dean’s waist with one hand holding the mobile to his ear and one hand gripping the back of the chair besides Dean’s head.
Dean makes quick work at coating his fingers and cock liberally before he opens his brother up for him. Sam’s mouth opens in a silent groan as he squeezes his eyes shut trying his best to not beg Dean to forget pre-cautions and just fuck him.
“So Sam, whaddya think?” Bobby’s rough voice rings in his ear.
Sam jumps when he is reminded that there is someone on the phone and he quickly backtracks through the conversation.
…Something about the victims and patterns.
“I - uh - I don’t know, Bobby.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
When Sam is finally ready he sinks himself down onto his brother’s lap and holds his breath as he is slowly filled.
When he is fully seated Dean begins to suck and nip at Sam’s chest and it is all a bit too much.
“Sorry, Bobby. What was that again?”
Bobby sighs dramatically and begins to retell Sam all the information again and this time Sam really tries to listen as Dean begins to roll his hips agonizingly slow.
Sam places his forehead on Dean’s shoulder and pants silently as he attempts to set the pace a little faster.
They’re out of their minds, riding high on sensation and sharing close proximity, that they don’t really take notice that the chair that is supporting them is creaking and slowly rocking back and forth with their thrusts.
And with one loud and sudden crack the chair breaks from underneath them.
Dean yelps as his ass hits the hard carpet. Sam does something between a squawk and a groan when he lands on top of Dean forcing his cock in deep and brutal. The mobile clatters to the floor and Sam rolls off of his brother wincing before Dean flops backward.
“What the fuck is going on?” Bobby yells.
Sam reaches for the phone, brings the microphone to his mouth and says, “’M gonna have to call you back, Bobby.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 34, Sexy Scissors
http://www.cosmopolitan.com/cm/cosmopolitan/images/E5/sexy-scissor-sp-md.jpg
After a hunt went wrong, Dean’s heart is still beating at the same rate as just over half an hour ago when he had finally found his brother after he was kidnapped by the ghost of an insane doctor for almost 16 hours. Dean hadn’t known whether his little brother was alive or dead or screaming in pain and he couldn’t hold back from kissing him hard and gripping his neck to hold him as close as possible.
Dean kicks the door shut with his boot and pulls Sam’s dripping wet T-shirt over his head, quickly returning to kiss his brother when they are forced apart by the material. One hand rises to card through Sam’s long, drenched hair as his palm and thumb stroke the damp skin of his younger brother’s neck.
He will never admit that the content of the sex position app is seared into his head by the amount of times that he has looked at it. It’s like his memory shuffles and suddenly a picture is flashing neon bright inside of his head and he can’t wait to make Sam forget every second that he was away from Dean, every moment that he was with that head case of a ghost, but mostly he wants to forget about those terrifying hours that he had to consider that maybe Sam was gone. Not Dead. He would’ve never considered death but that maybe Dean wouldn’t find him. But now his Sammy is fine. He is still alive and now safe with Dean.
Sam grunts as Dean backs him toward a table, the younger man quickly sitting on it and wrapping his legs around him.
“Never,” Dean gasps as he quickly rips his shirt up over his head. “Never gonna let that happen again.” He kisses Sam quickly and presses their foreheads together, “’M sorry, Sam.”
“It’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.” Sam repeats like his brain is on a loop and not quite able to come up with anything else.
Dean quickly pulls Sam’s belt out of its belt loops and undoes the zipper before he pushes Sam’s back down to lay against the cold wood.
He watches as Sam shivers at the contrast of temperature, goosebumps prickling his skin and Dean can’t help but run his hands over his hips, his stomach, his chest and then glides them down Sam’s sides, smoothing the tiny bumps down before kissing him softer this time, nudging Sam’s lips apart with a teasing swipe of tongue over his bottom lip. Sam is quick to comply, trailing his tongue over Dean’s and making him groan.
Dean quickly takes one large step across the 4 foot distance between the bed (they don’t even bother ordering twin rooms anymore.) and the table to swipe the lube from the messy bed spread the night before. As Dean turns back to his brother his lips part slightly and his eyes bug out as he takes in the sight of Sam completely nude, legs spread apart and hand stroking his cock.
The corner of his lip curls upward and he quickly uncaps the little bottle and coats his fingers. He knows he should be careful, gentle. But Dean’s brain is only chanting, ”Sammy. Now. Need. Sammy. Now.”
He quickly prepares his brother, just enough and slide on home. He stands between the V of his brother’s legs. Sam’s head snaps backward and releases a guttural moan and when he sinks in to the hilt, Dean has to take a second to catch his breath and back away from the edge of orgasm or this will end way sooner then he wants it too.
“Fuck.” Sam’s breathing is shaky. “Oh god, Dean.”
Dean gives Sam his classic ‘I’m awesome’ smirk and begins to thrust slowly, experimentally and Sam inhales sharply. His long legs dangle over the table’s edge and Dean begins to roll his hips in sharp punches that have Sam gasping and wincing (in a totally good way.) and swearing as he pushes back against Dean, meeting every thrust.
Bending his knees slightly, Dean helps Sam bring his feet to rest on the edge of the table and wraps his fingers around his brother’s ankles. He continues rolling his hips in small circles, thrusting deep and slowly, he brings Sam’s legs upward, almost folding him in half before moving his hands to his brothers calves and when Dean rests Sam’s legs on his shoulders Sam finally pipes up.
“What’re you…” Sam groans. “Fuck! What’re you doing?”
“Give me a second…” Dean mumbles and holds his brother’s legs vertical.
“Seriously, Dean. What the - unf - fuck?”
“Wait…” Dean crosses Sam’s ankles over and Sam gasps.
“Jesus Christ!” He grunts and pushes back against Dean’s hips. “Oh - fuck!”
He uncrosses Sam’s leg with a forceful thrust and repeats overlapping and separating his brother’s ankles in an erratic rhythm to his thrusts. Dean can feel the fiery heat filling his veins, replacing his blood and leaving him primal and dominate.
One of Sam’s hands that was gripping the edge of the table moves to his cock and Dean watches as the thick muscles in Sam’s arm works as he jerks himself.
“De - Dean! I’m - fuck! - I’m coming.” Sam shudders and suddenly an ankle of his is no longer in Dean’s grip. In a flash, one of Sam’s freakishly long legs is tucked against his torso and before Dean can say ‘son of a -’ Sam’s foot comes flying at him and connects with Dean’s jaw.
Dean stumbles backward on the stain covered motel floor, lower spine hitting the back of the even more questionable couch and flipping over it.
“Shit!” Sam - as quickly as humanly possible after coming - jumps off of the table and pads toward his brother, crouching down and trying his best not to laugh while asking if he’s okay.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Position 67, the Hot Rod
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jQedbrkWrIQ/SxhNpsKswyI/AAAAAAAAFM8/sUtndRWk92Y/s400/the-hot-rod-sp_md.jpg
You’d think Dean would learn… but this one looked too tempting to try… What could go wrong?
Well…
Shut up.
Dean draws back the curtain of the shower and smiles when Sam makes eye contact with him from under the spray of hot water. Dean climbs over the baths edge and creeps in behind his brother. The bruises from the days earlier were beginning to fade but they were nothing compared to what they would get from an everyday hunt.
Sam tilts his head, opening his mouth momentarily to let some of the water seep into his mouth before he says, “What has gotten into you? You’ve been really…creative…lately.”
Turning his brother around, Dean smiles at Sam and presses up against him so that they share the spray of hot water. They kiss. Neither one of them knows who initiated it and neither care. It’s slow and sensual, no fight for dominance, no claiming, no owning, just absolute enjoyment.
Sam’s hands slide down Dean’s chest and make their way to his brother’s hips. Dean’s fingers twine Sam’s long hair before he deepens the kiss, tongue pushing in and twisting with Sam’s making the younger man shudder slightly before he nips Dean’s bottom lip when they finally break apart.
“Mm… Good morning to you too,” Sam says with a smile that is all for Dean. No-one else gets that smile. It’s a look that is pure happiness and serenity. Dean doesn’t get to see it very often but he remembers when they were kids, before Sam had begged Dean to tell him why their father left so often, Dean saw it almost every day and if something bad happened Dean would take care of it, be it bullies, mother’s day, or leaving another town Dean would always be able to get at least a fraction of this one look and he knew that tomorrow would just be another day. He huffs amusedly, “That bruise is looking better.” As he runs his thumb over the paling purple and yellow bruise that covers a better half of Dean’s jaw and cheek.
“You are an ass.” Dean shakes his head and Sam smiles at him again before nipping it quickly. “OW!” Dean totally doesn’t yelp.
Sam laughs, full heartedly, “You’re getting weak, Dean.” He says contently, “Must be gettin’ older.”
“Okay, now you’re being a bitch.” He says poking a bruise from their earlier hunt - nothing too dangerous, just a nymph that got a little forceful - and Sam flinches away with a barely serious glare.
Sam turns around to find his soap and when he does Dean takes a moment to just appreciate the view. He holds Sam in place when he tries to turn back around by gripping his hips tightly, running his nose up the long column of his brother’s neck and grazing his teeth across the sensitive skin. Sam buries his fingers in the soft, wet spikes of Dean’s hair as he presses closer against his brother’s warm, broad chest.
When Dean presses an open mouthed kiss behind Sam’s ear, Sam can’t help the shaky groan that falls from his lips as his head tips backward to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean sighs appreciatively when Sam pushes his ass backward to rub his thickening cock as heat sparks low in his belly, hotter than the water that is running over each of their bodies.
Reaching a hand toward Sam’s forgotten soap, Dean takes the red bar and rolls it between his palms, agitating the bubbles into a soft, silky lather that he rubs onto Sam’s chest. His brother visibly relaxes and sinks against Dean as he allows Sam to rest against him, Dean will always hold his Sammy up.
Dean continues to rub small circles over Sam’s chest, his flat stomach and Dean can’t help it when his hands travel south along with his mind. Dean tilts his gaze to watch as Sam’s eyes flutter shut and his tongue snakes out to run over his bottom lip before he sucks it in between his teeth.
He strokes his brother’s cock slowly, leisurely, taking his time and forgetting about the world outside the shower curtain. Twisting his wrist at the head, Sam gasps and Dean feels him shudder violently against his stomach.
“Mm, so good for your big brother, aren’t you, baby?” Dean whispers into his ear and Sam nods.
Dean thrusts his dick forward against his brother’s ass before taking a small step backwards to line himself up. Sam was prepped from before, when they had woken up and by the time Sam came back from the doughnuts and coffee place down the block Dean was raring to go again but Sam had smacked his hands away and gestures toward the greasy paper bag and had whined, “Dean, seriously, you're like a dog in heat.” And even though Sam had pointed out Dean's own version of the 'bitch-face', Dean thoroughly denied it.
Sam bends slightly at the waist, bracing himself by gripping the soap dish that juts out from the tiled wall and hangs his head low, between his shoulders as he concentrates on breathing as Dean slides in slowly to the hilt. Releasing a shaky breath, Sam nods hinting to Dean that it’s okay to continue and Dean sighs happily. Pulling out and pushing in, it’s an amazing feeling, hot and tight around him, squeezing perfectly.
Exhaling shakily as hot water keeps them both warm, one of Sam’s hands reaches back to lace his fingers into Dean’s hair, twisting his head and breathing out against Dean’s cheek. “God, Dean. Uh, fuck.”
Dean sucks on Sam’s neck, leaving teeth marks behind as Sam pushes himself backward and Dean begins to see stars.
Blindly, Dean reaches for the shower head and pulls it downward so that the strong, warm spray is hitting Sammy directly on dick.
Sam shudders and moans out a satisfied, ‘Oh fuck.’
Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, Dean slides a hand down one of Sam’s long thighs before wrapping his fingers around the flesh and moving Sam’s foot to rest on the edge of the bath. He caresses the wiry hair that covers his brother’s legs before wrapping his fingers around the hard jut of Sam’s hip bone, rolling his hips harder, tilting his hips in attempt to find that spot, the one that makes his brother cry out in sheer bliss.
He knows when he finds it because Sam’s loud intake of breath almost shocks him out of his mindless race towards coming and he smirks, focuses on that spot and pushes in slow, calculated thrusts as his basic instinct is telling him to rut forward and take what he wants.
“Shit, Dean. God, faster, please. Fuck me faster.” Sam pleads.
Dean places both hands of Sam’s hips and uses the grip to set a punishing speed, water completely forgotten and barely anything more than background noise.
He isn’t sure if he imagines it but after a few moments of absolute pleasure, Dean wonders if he actually heard that tiny squeak before his gigantor of a brother is losing his balance and falling past the shower curtain. His huge hands fly to try and grasp it but it’s no use as they both topple out of the shower and land awkwardly and painfully on the cold and brutally hard bathroom tiles.
Legs and arms are everywhere and Dean is barely sure which ones are his and which are Sammy’s but in the end and after many hissed curses from his younger brother, both men find what limbs belong to them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Never again.” Sam groans, towel wrapped around his waist as he lies down on their bed. “We are never fucking ever again.”
Dean most certainly does not pout.
“Seriously, it’s more dangerous than hunting!” Sam continues.
“Shut up.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next day, they decide to sleep in. The big bad monster of the week was killed and if anything important came up, Dean was sure that Bobby would call them and let them know. Well, kind of sure, anyway.
Sam is watching some lame-ass drama shit and Dean’s body hurts too much to actually wrestle his brother for the remote, so he fishes out his phone and flicks through his downloaded apps.
When he comes across the little hot pink icon he wonders why none of the positions worked for them. He had bent, manipulated and pushed Sam into the proper pose but for some reason something always had a way of fucking with them - and not in the good way. Half of Dean wonders whether the Trickster had anything to do with it.
He opens the application and scrolls to find The Hot Rod to try and figure out what went wrong. Dean studies the picture for a good long while and nothing comes to mind, he doesn’t understand why the cosmos is screwing around with his sexual escapes! What did he ever do to her? (And of course it’s a her because bitches know how to hold a fucking grudge!)
Sam’s shoulder bumps Dean causing the pad of his thumb to slide upward on the screen and suddenly Dean can see letters. Letters that morph into words?
He scrolls down and little further and... “sonuva...”He curses.
Sam turns a concerned expression towards his brother, “What?”
Dean can feel the humiliation creep up into his cheeks, the fiery hot burn of it completely unwelcome, by his opinion.
“There were... instructions.” He grits out.
‘Position 67, the Hot Rod -
User Rating: 4.1
Difficulty: 3
Climax: 4.6
Instructions:
Before executing, please place an anti-slip bath mat for safety...’
‘Position 15, Row His Boat -
User Rating: 4.5
Difficulty: 4
Climax: 4
Instructions:
Please note: Use a sturdy, comfortable chair.