A fallen angel on my shoulder. (1/1), NC-17, Jared/ Jensen.

Apr 05, 2012 20:53


Title: A fallen angel on my shoulder.
Word Count:  17000
Summary:  Whenever things become too much, Jensen gives Jared the most precious gift, his submission.  This time things are a little different. Not only are they not being themselves, but Jared has a fallen angel on his shoulder.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen,
Warnings: Ok, for spoiler phobes mentions of Season Seven all over the place.  Also we have Dom/Sub themes, role playing Sam and Dean, dub con, a little bondage, blood play...look you’ve been warned, alright?
Disclaimer: Here be fiction, folks. This isn’t real nor is it meant to reflect the relationship between the two men, whose names and faces I’m borrowing.  This is my very own little take on reality or as I like to think of it now, the wrong trouser leg of time, where our universe and this one split apart, and this universe is bathed in a rosy pink hue.
Notes: First of all my thanks go to my awesome and long-suffering beta, bigj52, a woman with the patience of a saint, and a goddess-like skill in her ability to turn my scribbles into English. Once upon a time I was bitten by a very bad bunny, and this is the result.  It’s become part of my bracelet verse, so if you’ve read the other stories then you know what you’re in for! And a quick question to my fl*st, do you think I should let this out to play with the other kids, or should it stay on my journal? And as always feedback is very welcome.



The first thing Dean was aware of was that his mouth was as dry as a Saturday night in Salt Lake City.  Shit, was that were he and Sam were? No, they were on another Sammy-driven wild friggin’ goose chase, instead of sittin’ on Dick.  God fucking damnit. Sam grinned at him every time he said that big-mouthed bastard’s name. Dean groaned when his head began to pound. Oh crap, Sam was gonna kill him for getting bombed on a hunt.

It was then Dean prised his eyes open, and whimpered when the light felt like spikes being driven into his eyes, and that brought back a few happy memories of quality time he’d spent with Alistair.  He shook his head, moaned and waited for the room to stop spinning. When the decor decided to play nice, he stared at the ceiling and got his second shock after waking up.  He didn’t recognize the view, since sleep and him were no longer good buddies.  Dean considered himself an expert on the different ceilings he’d spent many hours staring up at.  From skeevy motel rooms to even skeevier abandoned houses. And this definitely wasn’t the skeevy motel ceiling from the room he and Sam had been staying in the last few days.

Great, he must’ve hooked up with some chick. Sam was gonna tear him a new one for that.  He shivered, and it was then he realized he was naked. That shocking revelation ran through his veins like ice water, suddenly he was fully awake. Why the hell was he naked? He went to move his hands down from above his head and found he couldn’t.

Dean tilted his head back, and saw he was secured to the iron bedstead with handcuffs, “Great! Naked, cuffed to a bed in a strange motel room, and no clothes. I just hope she’s hot. And I know I didn’t have that much to drink, as Sammy’s been babysittin’ me....”

The words stuck in his throat. What the fuck?  The fuzziness in his head was clearing, he’d only had two beers. He’d been drinking the second one when the lights went out.  Fuck! He’d been roofied. Holy crap, Sam! Shit, he was God knows where, and his brother was on his own.  This was the last thing Sam needed to be worrying about after the disaster with Jeremy.

“Oh Dean, you stupid damn fuck. Sam’s gonna be going out of his mind...well, a bit further out. Come on!”  As he muttered the words he yanked at the cuffs, twisting over to look at the iron headboard, shaking the bed he was tied to.  He heard movement from a darkened corner of the room. Dean stopped trying to pull the bed frame apart; he concentrated and heard someone breathing.

Dean rolled onto his back and willed himself to relax; he took a couple of deep breaths and tried to scan the room without lifting his head. The room was nothing special but it was an improvement on the dive he and Sam were staying in. From his limited view there didn’t appear to be much in the way of furniture in the room.  So far there only seemed to be the king-sized bed he was cuffed to. Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted a chair. Dean turned his head and looked at it. What he saw on the chair made him start struggling again. Along with his neatly folded clothes was Sammy’s jacket. Dean jerked as if he’d been electrocuted, and redoubled his efforts to get free.

After several frantic minutes Dean’s strength gave out. He lay panting and shivering as the sweat cooled on his body. Finally he lifted his head and glared into the gloom. Dean growled at the presence that for all he knew wasn’t even fucking human. “You better not have hurt my brother, you sick bastard. When I get out of these I’ll tear you....”

The rest of the threat died when a lamp was flicked on and he recognised the figure hunched in a chair, relief flowing over him. At least Sammy wasn’t tied up. He decided to encourage his brother to cut him loose. “Sammy...What the fuck?  Come on, get me out of these things. Quit screwin’ around.  This ain’t funny, dude.”  Dean did his best to keep his voice steady, but even he could hear the tremor in it.  His apprehension grew when Sam wouldn’t meet his eyes, along with the anxious way he dug his thumb into the scar on his left hand.

Sam sat watching his brother as he pressed the scar. What the hell had he been thinking doing this? Slipping something into Dean’s beer and bringing him here.  He was just trying to keep him safe. That was it; he needed to stop Dean trying to get himself killed.

A pair of hands suddenly dropped onto his shoulders, and a familiar sing-song voice sounded by his ear. “You just tell yourself whatever you need to get you through this, Sam. And you keep on rubbing that scar like that, and you’ll go blind.  You let me in, Sammy, my boy, and I like the scenery here.”

Lucifer straightened up, looking over at the figure, writhing on the bed and sighed, “My, my. Now isn’t that just one of the sweetest sights? Dean Winchester all trussed up, and it isn’t even my birthday. You’re too good to me, Sammy.”

Sam flinched at the mocking tone of Lucifer’s words, following the fallen arch angel as he walked over to the bed. Dean had started to fight his restraints once more, arching up and pulling, trying his best to break free.

Lucifer stood close to the bed, entranced by the display of determined strength when the bedstead creaked ominously, as Dean continued to thrash and fight.

Lucifer stared down, entertained by the flex and strain of Dean’s muscles, skin glistening with sweat as it ran down his body. “He really is beautiful isn’t he, Sam. All that pain wrapped up with a lovely veneer of self-loathing.  And those scars - a trophy to remind him of every one of mine or Eve’s children who ran up against you and lost.” Lucifer cast a coy glance at Sam.

“I know sweet little Cas wiped them all when he snatched Alistair’s favourite student from him, but I can still see them. Oh look, there’s the bullet hole you...sorry, Meg put in him.”  Lucifer reached out to touch Dean’s shoulder.

Sam surged to his feet, “Don’t you fucking touch him. Do you hear me?  You keep your hands off him.”  Sam hissed at Lucifer, stalking towards the bed, glaring at the smirking figure.

Dean lay watching Sam as he walked towards the bed. He heard him speak to what appeared to be thin air. “God, no, Sammy, not that. Listen to me. He’s not here.  It’s just us, now come on let me out of these and we can sort this out.”  Once again Dean started to pull and twist, trying to get free and reach his brother.

Lucifer smiled wickedly at Sam, “My, my. I’d forgotten how possessive of your toys you are.  All our time together in the cage, the times when I let you have a little fun; I should’ve remembered you never liked to share with the others in the class.”

Dean had gone still and watched Sam intently, attempting to figure out what his brother was going to do next, hoping he could talk him into letting him go.

Lucifer moved closer to Sam and turned to face Dean but they didn’t speak.  Sam stood sideways to Dean, unable to look right at him like Lucifer was.  Finally he did what Lucifer wanted him to do. He turned so he too faced Dean, his eyes raked up and down his bound body.

Lucifer lowered his head and smiled. Sam was all about buttons. You just had to know how to press them, and with that stubborn streak you had to guide Sammy oh so gently....”Well, come on then, Sam, my boy. Why don’t you show me where his scars are? Run your hands all over that body. You remember how much you wanted that, don’t you?  Every time you told me no, but we both know differently don’t we, Sam?”

As he spoke Lucifer glanced down at the bulge developing in Sam’s jeans. His smiled broadened and he said softly, “And we have lift-off.”

Sam dragged his fingers through his hair and looked frantically round the room, considering his escape; to start running and not stop.  He heard Dean’s breathing hitch, and his eyes went to Dean’s frightened face, “Come on, Sammy, please, Just let me up. It’s just you and me here, right, Sammy?  Remember stone one....Sam, please.”

Lucifer grinned in delight as Dean’s eyes darted round the room, unable to see or speak to him.  Dean was powerless, and that just made the whole thing more delightful. Lucifer stepped even closer to Sam and whispered encouragement, “Come on, Sammy. Show me how much you want Dean.”

Sam drew in a shaky breath and closed his eyes, pressing on the scar once more in a forlorn attempt to drive the fallen angel away.  But he knew it was hopeless. Lucifer was right - he wanted this. He’d wanted it before the cage, and now he wasn’t strong enough to fight what he wanted...needed from his brother.

“Come on, Sam. The day’s not getting any younger and neither is Dean, and I’m getting bored here. Don’t you want to try out some of the fun things we did together with big brother?”

Sam shuddered violently at that. Lucifer frowned; no, not the way to go, then he smiled, a light dancing in his eyes.

“I can understand you not wanting to touch him; after all I’m not so sure I’d want Alistair’s sloppy seconds.  All those years he spent touching Dean, the hours he’d made him scream, and beg.  When Alistair prayed to me, he’d tell all about the dirty little things he did to your beautiful big brother....”

Lucifer leant closer and whispered seductively in Sam’s ear “Especially what he did when he wore his Sammy suit, the sounds Dean made.”

He glanced conspiratorially at Dean. “That’s why he broke. Not because of the pain, but because he loved the feel of you all over him, and then he realized he belonged in the pit.  Now come on, Sam, you’re not going to let Alistair steal what’s rightfully yours, are you?”

Lucifer watched Sam’s face darken with a mixture of possessiveness and lust as Sam walked to the bottom of the bed.

Sam stared at Dean; he couldn’t stand the thought of Alistair’s hands all over his brother. He had to take back what was his, and Dean was his.  Sam started to unbutton his shirt, never taking his eyes from Dean as he did.  He pulled the shirt off and then quickly tore the T-shirt up over his body; he stood there in his jeans, unable to fight any longer.

Sam climbed up on the bed and knelt on the edge. He could see the anguish in Dean’s eyes, “Please Dean, don’t fight. Just let me touch you. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”  Sam spoke softly, reaching out and gently touching Dean’s ankle.

Dean flinched when Sam touched him. God this was wrong, so fucking wrong, and he had to stop his little brother somehow.  He licked his lips and saw Sam track the movement; his gaze was hungry and heated.  Dean had to look away; he couldn’t face that look of sheer want in those hazel eye because deep down, he knew that it was something he wanted as well.

Lucifer jumped up on the bed beside Dean and lay looking at the brothers, “And here we have the mating rituals of the Winchesters, coy glances and handcuffed, naked big brothers.  Come on, Sam. Show me where those scars are. I want a guided tour, and by the way watch out for...”  Lucifer grinned when Dean lashed out with his foot, catching Sam a hefty blow to his shoulder.

Sam’s eyes flashed with anger and before Dean could do him further damage, he grabbed his ankles and held them tightly, digging his thumbs into pressure points. Dean groaned and struggled to pull his legs free, but Sam held him fast and the pressure increased.

“Dean, stop it!  You’ll only hurt yourself. Please stop struggling. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Sam pleaded with Dean’s, his words reaching his brother and the struggles subsided, then Dean turned his face away.

Lucifer smirked and nodded at Dean.  “Oh, I don’t know about that, Sam. I think Dean likes it a little rough.  Alistair always said he was a pain slut.”

Dean’s skin was flushed and he was panting. Sam could see his cock starting to stir so he squeezed Dean’s ankle harder.  Dean moaned softly and his eyelashes fluttered, his cock growing harder.  Sam slowly inched his left hand higher up Dean’s leg, in his mind his fingers traced the outlines of scars that were no long visible.

Lucifer was enjoying the show. Dean’s body was taut with tension and lust, every slow hesitant touch of Sam’s large callused hand was making him harder.  Perhaps it was time to wind Sam up that little bit more.

“Sam, for the love of God, just stop. Please, just fucking stop. You know this is wrong, Sammy. Don’t do this, I’m begging you.”

Dean’s voice was a ragged whisper. It sounded as if he’d been screaming, not moaning. He had to stop Sam before he did something they both would regret.

Sam’s hand froze when he heard Dean plead with him. He lifted his eyes and met his brother’s.  Expressive green eyes glittered with tears and Sam lowered his head. What the hell was he doing to Dean?  He went to move away from him when a soft voice pinned him in place.

“Come on, Sam. All that quality time we spent together in the cage, you really didn’t think I knew you’d rather it was Dean you were with.” Lucifer sighed sadly.

“This is your chance, Sam. You know he wants you.  I know how he screamed for you in the pit; you were the one he dreamed about.  You were his dirty little secret. Don’t chicken out on him now, Sam.  Show him what he means to you. Tell him what you want and why.”

Lucifer watched Sam closely, and a smile appeared as Sam’s hand slowly began to inch up Dean’s leg again.

“That’s it, Sam. Now are you just gonna stroke him like a dog or is this gonna get more fun?  I’ve seen more raunch on Glee. Come on. Let’s get the old NC-17 started.”  Lucifer smacked the bed impatiently.

Sam ignored him and continued to work his way up Dean’s leg. He could feel him trembling under his hand and he’d seen the way Dean bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan. Sam remembered how Dean reacted to a comforting touch and gently stroked the inside of Dean’s thigh, savouring the silken feel of his skin beneath his fingertips, the way his muscles flexed and moved as his hand caressed his leg.

“Dean, please don’t fight me. Do you remember that ghoul in New England?”  Sam traced the ghostly line of a scar that had run from Dean’s hip almost to his knee.

“Do you remember how scared I was when I stitched you up? Dean, I really thought you were going to bleed to death.  Every time I’ve nearly lost you a part of me died.”  His voice broke. “I can’t take losing you to the Leviathans, and don’t forget I know you, man. You’re on a suicide mission.  You’ll take Dick out, and you won’t give a fuck whether you’re still breathing at the end.”

Sam ran his thumb over Dean’s thigh, unable to take his eyes off him.  He’d ignored the sniggering from Lucifer when he’d mentioned the head Leviathan’s name.

Dean lifted his head and looked at Sam, “Is that what this is…some fucked-up intervention?  Sam, I hate to tell you but this ain’t really the way to go about it.  I was expecting a more touchy feely approach.....” He paused, thinking about his words.

“Ok, you know what I mean. Not this kind of touchy feely.  Sam, I get it now. You’re worried about me but tying me to a bed ain’t gonna make the monster go away.  We’re fucking hunters; you’re gonna have to let me up eventually.” The cuffs rattled as Dean wrenched them again.

Lucifer watched the moment, “Oh, you two are just really the most adorably co-dependent screw-ups I ever met. Now Sammy, why don’t you get up there and explain to Dean how this is going to go?”

He looked at the cuffs. “And if he keeps that up with the cuffs there’s gonna be blood all over the place, and not in the way I like it...well, mostly not in the way I like it.”  Lucifer smirked as Sam began to move slowly up Dean’s body.

As Sam moved Dean tensed. He’d been hoping Sam would stay where he was, but it looked like he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, as usual.  He bit back a soft moan when Sam’s fingers stroked his stomach, making the muscles flutter.

Sam smiled at Dean’s reaction to his touch. As he crawled upwards he took the time to explore. Sam ran his fingers over where the Devas had nearly gutted Dean.  A little further up there had been several scars on Dean’s ribs where a skin walker wearing a mountain lion’s skin had raked him with his claws.

Lucifer was enjoying the show of Sam’s concentration as he mapped the places where Dean’s scars had been. “At last we’re getting the tour of Dean’s greatest hits. Don’t forget those famously perky nipples of his. Remember, chew your food, Sam.”

Dean was doing his best not to respond to what Sam was doing. His eyes were screwed tightly shut and he was trying to will his traitorous cock to behave itself.  But when he felt Sam’s body press heavily against his, and the scrape of denim over his cock, he knew he was fighting a losing battle.  Then Sam’s tongue flicked over a nipple, and Dean clenched his fists and tried desperately to stay still. But his hips bucked up, and Sam ground down, making Dean whimper softly.

Sam took his time licking and biting Dean’s nipples, feeling his brother shiver at the touches. He tugged at one gently, biting a little harder, making Dean gasp.  Sam then carried on up to Dean’s neck, running his tongue up that slender throat. He sucked gently on the rapidly beating pulse, feeling the blood pumping just beneath his lips, making his mouth water with memories of demon blood.

“That’s it, Sam. Just give in to what you want. Come on, taste him. Taste every part of Dean, you know you want to.  Remind him who he belongs to. Show him there is no one else, not even Alistair.”  Lucifer crooned softly, knowing the mention of the demon would spur Sam on.

Dean started to fight against the cuffs once more, chafing his wrists as he fought.  Sam felt him writhe in a frenzy, trying to dislodge him, but with his greater height and muscle mass Sam knew Dean would only wear himself out.  Then Dean planted his feet on the bed, and pushed up powerfully, nearly succeeding in throwing Sam off.

Sam gripped Dean’s hips brutally, hard enough he knew he was going to leave finger shaped bruises.  He reached up and took hold of Dean’s face, “Stop that. You’ll only hurt yourself. Please just stop, Dean.”  Sam begged softly. Dean shook his head furiously, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes.

Sam’s grip on his face became punishing and Dean whimpered. Sam felt his brother’s erection dig into his hip, “Dean, look at me please. You have to understand why I’m doing this. Don’t shut me out.”

Sam’s voice was broken and lost, and that sound reached into Dean, breaking down his resolve as all his protective instincts rose up.

Dean opened his eyes, and looked into Sam’s hazel ones. He could see Sam was fighting something, maybe even fighting Lucifer’s influence, and it was hurting him.  He could never stand to see Sam in pain. ”Why are you doin’ this, Sam?  Is it some sick and twisted version of Lucy says? What did he do?  Wake up this morning and say Lucifer says ‘roofy your brother, cuff him to the bed and rape him’?”  Sam, don’t do this. I’m begging you.”  A tear welled in his eye, and rolled down his face.

Sam watched the crystal clear tear as it trickled down over his hand and shuddered at its touch. Sam dropped his forehead, resting against Dean’s, “Please, you have to help me, Dean. You’re right. It is Lucifer. He keeps showing me things, terrible things and I don’t know if I can fight anymore.  Help me.”

“Sammy, this ain’t the way to get help. Let me up and we’ll figure this out.  Come on, dude. Stop fucking around...oh God, stop. Sammy, please.”

Dean begged softly as Sam had dropped his head lower, and began tracing the outline of his tattoo with his tongue.  Sam sucked gently on the charm, running his tongue over and over the lines. Dean pulled savagely at the cuffs, trying to distract himself from feeling of Sam’s mouth on his skin, and how he wanted more than that.

Sam reared back and grabbed Dean’s wrists pinning them to the bed, stopping him from using the pain to distance himself from this. “Look at me, Dean. Hell changed us both. Fuck, it broke both of us.  You can barely make it through a day without falling apart, and I’m seeing Hell everywhere I look.”  Sam drew a ragged breath.

“I want to hurt people, Dean. Tie them to a bed and make them scream. I want to feel someone writhe under me, and it’s scaring me, Dean. I’m going to hurt someone. Please help me.” Sam whispered and he felt Dean go limp beneath him.

Dean looked up at his little brother and he saw the desperation in his eyes. Fuck! He was going to hurt some other poor bastard? No, he couldn’t let Sam do that; he couldn’t see the kid carry that guilt.

Dean reached out to ease Sam’s pain. “It’s alright, Sam. Tell me what you need. I won’t fight you. I don’t want to see anyone else here.  Come on. Tell me.”

Lucifer rolled onto his back and grinned, “God damnit!  Sam, my boy, I’m so fucking proud of you.  Using Dean’s martyr complex like that. Really, there is nothing that boy won’t do for you.”

Lucifer rolled languidly onto his side, and propped his head up with his hand. “Even down to handing his precious ass over for you to do what you like with it and now is the time to start doing what you like. Right, Sammy?”

Sam turned to look at Lucifer and growled softly, “It’s Sam. Only Dean gets to call me Sammy.”

Lucifer smirked and made a zipping gesture across his mouth, “Now don’t let him slip away. Remember your brother’s got a little pain kink. Time to press buttons to ease some of your tension.” Lucifer rolled his eyes “And help get that stick from up your ass. Right, Sammy.... sorry Sam.”

Sam looked back into Dean’s eyes and lifted his hand to cup his cheek, gently stroking his face. “Dean, the things Lucifer showed me….it’s what broke me.  He told me everything Alistair did to you; he would laugh when he told me he touched you when he looked like me.”

Sam rolled his hips, rubbing his cock against Dean’s. “Dean, you’re mine and that bastard had no fucking right to touch you like that, to make you hate me. I just want to wipe that away.  I want you to enjoy being touched by me.”

Dean couldn’t help but whimper. God, this felt good but he was letting Sam down.  He was the sick bastard not Sammy. He was the one dragging his brother down, “No, Sam, don’t. I’m....”

“What, Dean?  Dirty, wrong, sick in the head?  After everything we’ve been through why can’t we have this?” Sam wiped another tear from Dean’s cheek with his thumb.  “Why can’t we take something good from the crap we’ve suffered? I need you so much, Dean. Please don’t hate me for this.”

Sam studied the tear and then he brought it to his mouth. His tongue slid out and he lapped at the salty liquid.  He savoured the taste of it on his tongue, “You taste so fucking good, Dean. I want to taste all of you.”  Sam leant forward, his lips almost brushing Dean’s ear. “I want to fuck you. I don’t want to force you. Will you let me do that, Dean....please?”

Sam’s breathy words washed over him as Sam put his lips by his ear.  Dean arched up against him, and shivered as the warm breath tickled his ear. “Sammy, God, please....”  Dean moaned and he felt Sam’s lips graze his neck, and then a sharp pain as Sam tweaked his nipple.

Sam kissed his neck gently, and ran his hand down his body. “It’s alright, Dean. I got you. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

“That’s it, Sam. Now time to pick up the pace. Stake your claim, mark your territory. Live up to that promise.”

Lucifer’s words encouraged Sam, and the kisses grew rougher. Soon he was sucking a bruise onto Dean’s neck.  He heard a keening from his brother and lifted his head.

Dean’s eyes had darkened and his pupils had blown with arousal; he was biting his lip, trying not to make a sound.  “Come on, Dean. I want to hear you.”  Sam swooped down and sucked Dean’s full lower lip between his lips, and scraped his teeth over it.  He flicked his tongue along Dean’s bitten lips, exploring his mouth, his tongue darting in and out, tangling with Dean’s tongue.  As they kissed Sam rocked against his brother making him moan. The kiss was bruising, raw and passionate as Sam laid claim to Dean’s mouth. By the time he pulled back Dean’s lips were swollen and crimson.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this; you have no idea just how beautiful you are, do you, Dean?”  Sam was breathless, watching his brother blush.

“Oh, can we just quit the hearts and flowers, and get down to some serious fucking here?  You two have had years of foreplay. Now get on with it, Sam.” Lucifer tapped the bed once more. ”Move on down the bus a little. Little Dean’s being ignored. Time to rectify that, don’t you think?”

Sam usually ignored his irritating co-pilot but right now he thought it was a great idea; he just might take the scenic route, though.  Sam slipped his hand beneath the pillow and pulled out a bottle of lube.  Moving slowly back down his brother’s body, he took the time to attack the anti-possession tattoo again. He continued sucking and biting until the skin was a deep red, laying his cheek on the mark, enjoying the warmth that emanated from it.  Then Sam moved over and sucked a mark on the right hand side of Dean’s chest, matching the one he’d made on the tattoo.  He heard Dean moan softly, feeling him shiver at the sensation, and he grinned.

Lucifer watched Sam as he continued down Dean’s torso, licking and biting in places where there used to be scars. “Damn, I had no idea you were such a neatness nut, Sam. Now be a good boy and see if you can do that to his gorgeous cock.  And lube as well. Such a boy scout, always prepared. Better keep that in mind for Dean’s tight little ass, unless you want him to feel where you’ve been for a week.”

Sam thrilled at the idea of Dean feeling him for week, and he swirled his tongue round Dean’s navel, his stomach quivering as the light touch tickled sensitive skin.  As he squirmed Sam gently bit down and Dean arched into the bright flare of pain.

Now Sam was lying between Dean’s thighs taking time to run his tongue along the inside of one of the toned thighs, exploring the sweet tasting flesh.  Mixed in with the salty musky taste of sweat, there was something that was just pure Dean. Sam ground down into the bed, feeling his cock strain against his jeans, desire pulsing through him as he tormented Dean.

He was just gently nibbling his way up Dean’s left thigh when Lucifer’s voice interrupted him, “My, my, looks like you’ve found a favourite place. That spot just where you are held a special place in Alistair’s heart as well....After all, it’s where he carved his name with his razor, to remind Dean who he belonged to.  What ya gonna do about that, Sam?”

Lucifer grinned in delight as the gentle kisses turned savage, as Sam sought to obliterate any reminder of Alistair on Dean’s skin.

Dean was flying the way Sam touched him; it was so different to anything he’d ever known.  All the other women and the few men he’d experienced, to the nightmare that had been hell and Alistair.  Sam was playing his body like he’d been doing it all his life. Every touch, every caress, took him higher.

He flinched when Sam had started to kiss his thigh, that spot held terrible memories. Flashes of Alistair grinning down at him made him whimper, and then the kisses became deeper and harder as Sam’s teeth worried at his leg. Dean threw his head back “Saammmmy....god...Please! OH SHIT!” Pain flared along his leg and pulsed up his body, mingling with jolts of pleasure when he realized what Sam was doing.

Dean tried to pull away from Sam’s mouth, but Sam reached up and gripped his hips tightly and held him in place. Finally happy that he’d claimed Dean back from the demon, he stopped and admired his handiwork.  The inside of Dean’s thigh was bright red and was darkening rapidly. Sam knew there would be a bruise there later.  He lifted his head to look up at Dean who was breathing as if he’d been running hard and he was shaking.  Sam looked at his cock and saw it was hard and curved against his stomach. Sam brushed his fingers over the bruise and was rewarded with Dean’s cock twitching and droplets of pre-come appearing at the head.

Lucifer rolled on his back and put his hands behind his head, watching the proceedings, directing Sam when he needed his expert guidance.  “Come on, Sam. Didn’t you say you wanted to taste all of Dean? Don’t just look at it. That’s the kind of popsicle you could suck on all day.  Why don’t you see if you like the flavour, and it might be time to find a use for the lube you got there?”

Sam inched forward, gently touching his lips to where he had bruised; he heard Dean whimper softly.   He gently ran his tongue over the heated flesh, trying to soothe the hurt he’d caused.  Sam moved higher and carefully sucked on one of Dean’s balls. With one arm pressing down on his abs, he held Dean in place when he tried to move his hips. He smirked and took his time licking and nibbling, running his thumb down from behind Dean’s sac to circling his tight asshole.  He felt the muscle clench as his thumb eased closer.

Sam moved onto the other one of Dean’s balls and treated it to the same sweet torture, sucking it into his mouth.  As he bit gently he pressed his thumb just inside the tight ring of muscle. Enjoying the feel of it clinging tightly, he moved his thumb in a small circle.  Dean moaned and tried to push down, and force the digit deeper inside of him.

Sam pulled away from Dean and kissed his hip,”Be patient, Dean. I’ll get you there, just relax. You’re doing so good for me.  Do you want me to stop?”  As he asked he took Dean’s cock in his right hand.  His fingers curled round the silky shaft, his thumb nail tracing down the vein pumping it firmly, making Dean buck up into his fist.

“Fuck, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop, Sam.”  Dean’s voice was low and more gravelly than usual as he pleaded with Sam to carry on.

“Damn, are you sure you need me, Sam?  You’re doing pretty well on your own. How about you really get Dean flying, and then you can get on with the fucking.” Lucifer sighed happily when Sam got to his knees.

“After all, you’re a big boy, bunk buddy.  Now do what your big brother wants. It’s cruel to keep him waiting.”

Dean whined softly when Sam moved away from him. He felt the thumb being pulled out and Sam’s hand was gone from his cock.  He looked up at Sam as he knelt over him, a predatory smile on his face as his eyes travelled up and down his body; he knew Sam was looking at the marks he’d made on his skin.

Every bruise and bite helped to calm him. He liked the pain - he always had. Being a hunter meant you had a fucked-up relationship with pain.  And now Sam was using it to his advantage.  Sam picked up the bottle of lube, flipped the lid off and poured it over his fingers.  Suddenly Sam bent forward and his whole body jerked as Sam swallowed his cock down in one easy movement.

As he went down he held Dean in place. There was a shocked scream from his brother, followed by soft whimpers as he worked the cock in his mouth. Sam pressed his tongue to the underside of the head, teasing the sensitive glands there.  Sam relaxed his throat and moved deeper, letting the bitter taste of pre-come explode over his taste buds.

Sam hummed with pleasure at the taste. The vibration made Dean thrust his hips forward and Sam concentrated on pleasuring his brother.  He could hear soft pleading from Dean, and he knew he was driving him wild. Sam pulled up until all that was in his mouth was the head, and he flicked his tongue in the slit. Then as he glided back down, he chose that moment to push one long thick finger inside Dean’s tight channel.

At that Dean shuddered and rocked his hips desperately forward, fucking down Sam’s throat, pushing himself deeper onto Sam’s fingers.

“I have to say, Sam, that I’m impressed with your multi-tasking. Must be the hunter training.  Now be careful.  You don’t want big brother to come too soon, do you? Perhaps we should see how well Dean takes orders from you.”

Lucifer’s words made Sam aware of how close to coming Dean was. His balls were tight and he was rocking faster and faster, moaning desperately.  Sam pulled off Dean’s cock with an obscene slurp, and then roughly pushed two fingers in deeply, twisting them, stretching him open.

As Sam pumped his fingers in and out he squeezed Dean’s hip to gain his attention, “Dean, you don’t get to come yet. You only get to come when I tell you. You understand me, Dean?”

Sam grinned as his fingers found Dean’s prostate and rubbed the bundle of nerves repeatedly.

Dean arched up as the waves of pleasure rolled up his body when Sam’s talented fingers hit that spot over and over again; it felt so fucking good even his scalp tingled.  He heard Sam speaking but he was lost in a haze of lust, pleasure, and then there was a dark spike of pain rushing up his body pulsing in time with his racing heart.

“Sammy, what the fuck?”  The blossom of pain withered leaving only a throbbing heat that took him even higher.

“I said, are you listening to me, Dean? What did I say?”

When Dean hadn’t answered him, Sam had pressed his knuckle into the bruise he’d put on Dean’s thigh.  At first it had shocked him into responding, then it had only served to make him rock down more desperately.  Sam stroked the bruise with his thumb, easing the hurt he’d caused. He waited then pressed his knuckle deep into the bruise again.  He added a third finger, widening his fingers, twisting them before pushing in hard and fast.

“Shit...alright, alright. I heard you. Fuck me!”  Dean gasped as Sam pressed his fingers hard against his prostate setting off explosions behind his eyes, making him strain against the cuffs.  He used the pain to drag himself back from the edge, frantically sucking in gulps of air as Sam continued his assault on his senses.

Lucifer nodded his approval, “That’s it, Sam, he can hardly remember which way is up.  Now time to get naked, and really get this show on the road.”

Sam pulled his fingers out of Dean’s ass and heard a murmur of complaint from his brother at the  loss of contact.  Sam backed off the bed, kicked off his boots, pulled his belt open and undid his jeans, dropping them to the floor.  He stepped out of them and took off his boxers and socks.

Lucifer laughed at that, “How polite, Sam. I hate a man in socks. Come on. Don’t keep me and Dean waiting any longer.  I hope you’re feeling energetic. I think a nice fast pace, don’t you?  I want to hear him scream your name.  Let him know there is no one else but you now.”

Lucifer almost purred as he took in the sight of Sam, naked. He had to admit the brothers were stunning.  And Sam was an impressive physical specimen - tall, and well-muscled and as he deftly stroked his already hard cock, fully proportional.  He felt a little sorry for Dean as Sam climbed back on the bed. Well, it would give him a good reason to walk bow legged after today.

Sam moved back between Dean’s legs and took the time to work his way back up his body, pausing to pay attention to Dean’s nipples again. Sam licked them and got them hard by blowing on them gently. As the small brown nubs grew hard Sam sucked them between his teeth and chewed on them, making Dean whine with frustration.

As Sam came face to face with Dean, his face was flushed and he was biting his lip.  Sam dropped down and kissed him hard, his tongue flicking in and out at speed giving Dean a foretaste of what was to come.  When Sam finally broke the kiss both men were panting from lack of air, breathing in each other’s breath.

Sam slipped his hand back under the pillow and produced a foil wrapped condom. He trailed the pack down Dean’s face. The cool touch of the foil made Dean shiver and Sam saw goose bumps appear on his skin.

Lucifer followed the movement and saw Sam smirk. “Hmmmm, interesting pillow there, Sam. Anything else lurking under there that’s gonna be fun?”

Sam pushed himself back up and rested on his heels; he tore open the wrapper and slowly rolled the latex down his firm length.  Sam could see Dean watching him closely, need clear in his eyes. Lucifer had been right. Dean had always been his and now he was finally going to claim him.  “Are you ready, Dean?  I know you want this. You want this as much as I do. I said I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

Sam picked up the lube and poured a generous amount in his hand.  He smoothed the cool liquid down his overheated cock making him hiss, and he quickly squeezed the base to ward off coming.  Just touching and tormenting Dean had nearly made him lose control and come in his pants like some horny teenager.

Sam took a steadying breath; he fell forward and covered Dean with his body.  He looked into Dean’s green eyes, gently touching his face, drinking in the sight of his brother.  Sam lined up his cock with Dean’s entrance and pushed forward slowly, breaching the ring of muscle with the crown of his cock.

“Come on, Sam. Are you going to tease him or fuck him? He’s a big boy. He can take it.  You can go all hearts and flowers another time.  You want to keep him safe, don‘t you?”  Lucifer encouraged him softly, “Show him who the alpha dog is in this relationship, and you know he likes a little pain with his pleasure.”

Sam hesitated, “Come on, Sam. Do it.”  Lucifer barked the order, and Sam responded.

Sam pushed hard into Dean, feeling him opening up around his cock as he pushed inside.  Dean writhed as Sam thrust forward relentlessly. He reached up and grabbed Dean’s wrists and pinned them to the bed.

Dean’s eyes had closed, his eyelashes fluttering rapidly against his cheeks. He tried to escape the feel of Sam penetrating him, he’d never felt so open and vulnerable. The stretch and burn as he was filled with Sam’s cock, was tearing him apart. Just then he felt the ghost of pleasure as Sam’s cock gently nudged his prostate.  Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, Sam’s balls smacked against his ass. He tensed under Sam, waiting for him to move.

Sam felt Dean tense, wanting him to relax, and he lowered his head to the mark he’d made on Dean’s neck and began to suck on it. Then he moved slowly up Dean’s neck, nibbling gently until he reached his ear. Sam’s teeth gently grazed the fleshy ear lobe for a second, before biting it sharply.

The sudden pain made Dean groan and he curled into Sam, the tension drained out of his body.  Sam pulled back a little and before Dean processed what was happening, Sam slammed all the way in and Dean threw back his head and screamed.

Lucifer crowed. “That’s it, Sam. Put your back into it, a little more enthusiasm.  Pick up the pace; make the earth move for him.  Come on, Sam. Take us for a ride.  We both know your boy’s no blushing virgin.”

Sam began to move, slowly at first to give Dean a little time to adjust to the size of his cock, and then he rocked into Dean harder and faster.  Dean keened softly as Sam’s thrusts grew more powerful, and Dean’s began to meet his brother’s thrusts. Moving with him, finding his own rhythm, groaning as Sam finally found his prostate, he changed the angle of the thrusts.

“That’s it, Sam. He really makes the sweetest sounds, doesn’t he? All those breathy little moans and whimpers, and that cute way he bites his lip.  Damn, really makes you want to fuck him through the mattress, doesn’t it?”

Lucifer laughed when his words made Sam’s hips snap forward faster, setting up a punishing pace.

Dean was coming apart. Well, that’s what it felt like. There was fire racing through his veins and Sam was pouring oil on the flames.  Every hard thrust was sending him higher. He’d never felt more alive and it scared him. He would’ve done anything for Sam if only he’d let him come. He had no choice; he needed to come....”Please Sammy, fuck, please.” He begged desperately.

Sam squeezed Dean’s wrists tighter and changed the rhythm of his thrusts from short, fast and hard, to slow undulating rolls of his hips, striking the sweet spot inside of Dean every time. “What, Dean? What do you want?”

Unfocused green eyes stared back up at him. Dean’s head rolled from side to side, and he moaned when Sam hit his prostate again.  He looked up at his brother and begged once more, “Please let me come, Sam. I can’t....please let me come.”

Lucifer crooned softly. “Ahh, he begs so prettily. Why don’t we give him something to really beg for? I know you’ve got another little surprise under that pillow. Time to play, Sam.”

Sam grinned and let go of Dean’s wrist, slipping his right hand beneath his pillow. His hand wrapped around a familiar shape; he took comfort from the feel of it in his hand.

Lucifer whispered as Sam pulled the hunting knife from under the pillow. “That’s it, Sam. Show him your surprise. I’m sure he’ll love it.  Dean’s very fond of them, isn’t he?”

Sam’s hips had slowed and now he pushed himself up. He kept moving into Dean, his thrusts shallow, barely skimming that bundle of nerves that lit up Dean’s body.

Dean rocked down hard onto Sam’s cock, trying to get him to move faster, his body begging for him to move.  Finally Dean stilled and focused on Sam. His eyes widened when he saw the hunting knife in Sam’s right hand.

Dean’s breathing hitched when he saw the blade, and he was assailed with memories of Alistair, hearing him croon in his ear, feeling the slicing, dicing and tearing of his flesh. Sam brought the blade close to his eyes. Dean whimpered and turned his face away. Not that, please, not that.

Sam’s voice was gentle but commanding as he calmed his brother. “It’s alright; I won’t hurt you, not unless you want me to.  Do you trust me...? Dean, do you trust me?”

Dean turned back to face the knife, and Sam, his heart pounded making his ears ring.  Sam had gone still and waited for him to answer. This was his choice. Did he trust Sam?  He knew Sam had a co-pilot, that he was no longer alone in his head. He trusted Sam but he wasn’t so sure about Lucifer.  Dean took a deep breath and shuddered. He could do this; he would do this. Anything for Sam and if this was what it took, “I trust you. Now are you just gonna wave that thing round, or did you have plans for it?”  Dean’s words rang with bravado and the cocky smirk was back.

Sam heard the words but as he looked down into Dean’s green eyes he saw the terror in them, and he knew what it had cost Dean to say that, the strength it had taken.  Sam rolled his hips again and Dean groaned as his cock nudged his prostate.

Sam brought the knife to Dean’s temple and slowly drew the blade gently down the side of Dean’s face.  “Thank you, Dean. I promise you won’t regret this.  And I’ve got plenty of plans for this.”

The cold touch of steel made Dean tremble. There was no pain, just a tingling as Sam gently pulled the knife down. It reached his throat and lingered there, Dean slowly relaxing as the blade moved back and forth.  Dean followed the lines Sam made. They burned with an icy fire, and then Sam started to rock into him again.

Sam moved slowly, his cock dragging back and forth with agonising brushes over that small group of nerves that lit his body up with intense pleasure.  It was all becoming too much - his world narrowed to the feel of the knife dancing in intricate patterns over his body, and the fire building in his belly.

Sam continued to pin Dean’s wrists down with his left hand, and whirled the knife with his other, taking care not to break the skin.  Sam moved the blade slowly down, pressing against the pulse at Dean’s throat, entranced by the way it fluttered against the blade.  He carried on down Dean’s body, increasing the pressure slightly.  He circled Dean’s nipples and pulled the knife lower, following the curve of his ribs.  With each deft move the blade carved lines of fiery red, starkly bold against Dean’s skin.  As he worked Sam kept pushing into Dean with same slow maddening pace. He could hear the sounds Dean was making, each moan more desperate than the last.

“That’s it, Sam. You got him now. He’d do anything if only you’d let him come, but you’re not finished with him yet, are you?  Didn’t you say you wanted to taste all of him?”  Lucifer’s words dripped a honeyed poison in Sam’s ear.

Sam knew what the fallen angel meant, but he concentrated on what he was doing, ensuring the only pain he caused Dean would be welcomed not feared.

Sam slowly turned the knife in a circle round Dean’s navel, seeing the smooth warm flesh quiver beneath the cold steel’s caresses. As he finished another circle he took the blade lower, its fine edge tracing the downy dark blonde hair that adorned the pale skin from navel to groin.   Gradually Sam was getting closer to his goal, as he manoeuvred the knife he watched Dean’s coarse pubic hair curl up along it.

There was a sigh of impatience beside them, “Come on there, Sweeney Todd. I’m sure there is something else you want to do with that blade. Do it, Sam. You know Dean wants you to.”

Sam lifted his eyes. Dean was beautiful, trembling with arousal, his body decorated with the marks Sam had sucked into the flesh.  In addition now there were raised red welts adding their silent testimony to the knife’s journey, they glowed and pulsed like flames. The scratches were deep, but not one drop of Dean’s precious blood had been spilt although it sang to Sam, just begging to be tasted as it pulsed tantalizingly beneath that fragile covering.

Dean’s head was thrown back, his throat exposed in submission, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he tried to draw in enough air.  Once more Dean fought to get free of the cuffs, and he could hear soft needy sounds escaping swollen bitten lips.

Suddenly Dean stilled as he felt the knife graze the base of his cock, and then the blade scraped upwards over the heated skin, the slow tormenting drag sent shocks up his body.

“Saaaammmmyyyy! God please, Sam.”  Dean couldn’t say anything else; he needed what Sam was doing to him.  He was flying apart and he hoped that Sam would put him back together again, soothe the jagged tears this had broken open in his soul.

Sam rolled his hips once more and Dean’s cock jerked against the blade, and he whimpered.  Sam teased the point of the knife beneath the crown stroking back and forth across the sensitive glands. Pre-come oozed down onto the knife. He brought the blade up to his lips. His tongue emerged and he licked the bitter liquid off the blade.  He delighted at the taste and pushed deeper inside of Dean.

Dean groaned needily. “Sam, move. For the love of god, move please.”  He lifted his legs and wrapped them round Sam’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Well, are you just gonna let him suffer?  Come on, Sam. Be nice to your big brother and fuck his brains out like he wants you to.”  A smirk graced the fallen angel’s face.

Without warning Sam fell forward and the knife dropped to the bed. He snapped his hips forward brutally and began to piston in and out of Dean at a savage pace.  Dean legs tightened round his waist and he dug his heels into his ass.

Sam panted as sweat ran into his eyes, making them sting. “You like this, Dean? Is this what you wanted?”

Dean moaned and forced himself to keep pace with his brother. His body ached and burned, his skin stung where the knife had been drawn across it, and now it felt like Sam was doing his damnedest to fuck him through the bed into the floor. It was like a drug coursing through him. Every thrust, bite and bruise was taking him higher and he was already addicted to the feel of it.  Now he needed that final rush - he had to come.

The force of their lovemaking was shaking the bed, the iron headboard striking the wall repeatedly, in a tempo that would leave Lars Ulrich an exhausted wreck on the floor.  Lucifer whooped with glee as the bed moved beneath him, “Now this is what I call a ride, the best damn roller coaster in the whole theme park.  You can keep Magic Mountain; this is what I was talking about.  Come on, Dean. Scream if you want little Sammy to go faster!”

Dean rocked his hips faster and as if he’d heard Lucifer’s words let out a wordless scream as Sam fucked into him even harder.  “Sammy, please....I gotta come...Sam, do it, I want you to do it...please!”  Dean sounded strung out, his voice a shattered growl, and he turned his head towards the discarded knife.

Sam stopped moving and looked at Dean in shock, “You want me to, really?”  His breathless enquiry was filled with hope.

Dean said nothing but tilted his head away offering Sam his throat. At the sight of that Sam gave a full body shudder, biting his lip hard to stop himself from coming.  He managed to let go of Dean’s shoulder where he’d gripped so tight he had left his own hand print. He felt for the knife, never taking his eyes from Dean.

He grabbed the hilt and picked it up, slowly bringing the blade to Dean’s throat. Sam grazed the skin just below Dean’s jaw, watching the pulse beat a furious rhythm against its keen edge.

“Come on, Sam. You said you wanted to taste all of him. Now’s your chance. He said yes, didn’t he?”  Once again Lucifer led Sam into temptation and he didn’t fight it.

Sam moved the knife down Dean’s throat, and rested the point against the bruise he’d placed there earlier.  Sam pressed the point into the mark seeing it grow paler and then darker as the blood rushed to the surface. Suddenly the delicate skin parted and a rich red welled up from the small cut and trickled down the blade.

Sam dropped the knife, fastening his lips over the wound, lapping at it, not allowing any blood to escape. The coppery taste of Dean’s blood filled his mouth. Sam groaned and sucked gently, the blood tingling on his tongue. Better than any demon blood, this was pure, this was Dean. Heaven could wait - he was in paradise right now.

Sam lost himself in the high of Dean’s blood. Then he became aware of soft sounds, jumbled words filtered through the rush and he heard Dean’s wrecked voice begging him, begging to come.  Sam lifted his head, his lips stained crimson; he put his lips to Dean’s ear and commanded softly. “Come for me, Dean.”

Sam rolled his hips faster and aimed right for that hot spot inside of Dean. He felt the tight channel pulse and squeeze round his cock, and Dean fell over the edge with a shout. Sam stifled the sound with his lips, his tongue tangling with Dean’s, the men sharing the taste of  blood.

Dean’s movements had lost all coordination as he responded to the stimulation from both the sharp bite of the blade and the heady touch of Sam’s mouth.  He could hear nothing but his heart hammering against his ribs, seeing nothing but brilliant flashes of light.  All he could feel was Sam all over him, fucking into him with abandon, the soft press of his lips to his throat.  Then Sam had given him the order to come, let go, to give himself over the darkness that hovered behind the light show.

His body tensed and he bowed up as far as the cuffs and Sam’s body would allow, then Sam had kissed him.  The metallic taste of his blood on his brother’s tongue sent shockwaves through him, tipping him into sensory overload. It felt as if his orgasm had started at his feet and roared up over his body, twisting hotly up his spine, spiralling outwards with almost unendurable pleasure.  Dimly he heard Sam whispering his name over and over, and then his brother’s hips stuttered forward, forcefully punching into his prostate.  The last thing he heard before he let go and tumbled down into welcome oblivion, was Sam screaming his name.

Sam screamed for Dean, as his climax tore through him, making him slam into the prone body under him. Dean was shaking so hard he thought his brother was flying apart. He felt Dean’s cock pulse against his stomach, and he felt the warmth of Dean’s come as it spurted between their bodies. His own cock responded, throbbing as it filled the condom with come, then Dean went limp in his arms.  Sam threw his head back gasping for air, collapsing heavily on top of Dean, his vision whitening out.

The first thing Sam heard was the sound of an unwelcome voice talking to him, “Ok everybody, off. This ride is over, and you really don’t want to squash Dean after everything he’s done for you, do you, Sam?”  Lucifer smiled sweetly as Sam slowly lifted his head and glared at him.

Sam concentrated hard and slowly managed to untangle himself from Dean, easing himself up off his brother’s lax form.  Sam pulled out and hissed as his cock came free; he knotted the condom and threw it in the trash can. He knelt there for a few moments breathing hard, looking at the evidence of what he’d just done.

Dean’s legs were akimbo and for the first time he spotted the red hand marks on his ankles where he’d held Dean tightly. Sam’s gaze moved higher, eyes drawn to the angry purpling mark on his thigh.  He couldn’t help but wince slightly as he took in the red, swollen, sore looking asshole and the hand prints on Dean’s hips. Sam continued up and took in the many bright red scratches where he had used the knife; he’d replaced some of Dean’s original scars with his own marks.

Sam felt a thrill of excitement he’d done this. He’d marked Dean, made him his. He smiled at the matching bruises on his upper chest before his eyes rested on the bite on Dean’s throat.  It was deep red and at its centre was the small cut where he had drunk from.

Sam took a shallow breath and got unsteadily off the bed; he walked up to the top of the bed and looked into Dean’s face.  His eyes were closed and for the first time in a long time he looked peaceful. Sam reached out and gently stroked his cheek. Dean shivered and his eyes fluttered as he struggled to open them.

Sam ran his fingers through the short sweat dampened hair. “You’re mine now, Dean; I won’t let you hurt yourself again.”

There was a jangling sound and Lucifer appeared beside him. He held out the keys to the cuffs and smiled, “Not quite right, Sammy. He’s all ours now.”  Lucifer smiled as Sam nodded and reached out for the keys.

As he took the keys from Lucifer he drew a deep calming breath, nodded once more, and in a loud voice said, “Clay.”

part 2

fic, bracelet verse, j2

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