Fic: I Believe You Have My Stapler (Dean Smith/Sam Wesson: NC-17)
Title: I Believe You Have My Stapler
Author: sophie_448
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean Smith/Sam Wesson
Word Count: 903
Warnings: graphic m/m sex, AU of an AU?, still technically incest, misuse of company property, unbeta'd
Summary: Sam gets called up the the twenty-second floor on his lunch break. PWP
Notes: If you follow me on twitter, you probably saw the beginning of this earlier. Started as a silly little nothing to cheer up clex_monkie89 on the bus. ♥ BB! Thanks to Chat for the handholding and cheerleading!
Sam knows what's going to happen when he gets called up to the twenty-second floor. The same as every Tuesday and Thursday for the past three weeks. His pulse speeds up in anticipation when he thinks about Dean in those suspenders and his perfectly fitted suits. As the elevator counts up the floors he has a vivid image of ripping off Dean's crisply starched shirt sending buttons flying everywhere.
He won't, of course. Dean is too fastidious about his clothes to let Sam destroy them. Instead he'll loosen the silk tie carefully and pull it off. He'll slip each button out of place and kiss each new inch of exposed skin. He loves the way Dean's breath hitches just slightly, like he's trying not to let Sam hear, when Sam uses the barest hint of teeth.
Once he reaches the last button, licking teasingly above Dean’s waistband, Sam will move back up his body. He’ll slide each suspender slowly down Dean’s arms, one at a time, letting the elastic drag against his skin through fabric. Then he’ll push the shirt off Dean’s shoulders, revealing the miles of lightly freckled skin beneath.
Sam imagines the moment when their mouths finally meet, hot breath mingling between them, tongues battling fiercely. Dean will push him slightly backwards just long enough to pull that damned yellow polo over his head and toss it away. Then he’ll pull him back in and the heady feeling of skin on skin will go straight to Sam’s cock just like always.
He’ll drag his palms down Dean’s chest as he sinks to his knees to open the front of his trousers. He licks his lips just imagining pulling Dean’s cock out, hard and ready just for him. And the sounds he makes when Sam takes him in his mouth, tongue circling the head and lingering on the bundle of nerves underneath- breathy little whimpers and moans he can’t keep back.
Sam gets so turned on from making someone so in control of everything fall apart under his hands and mouth. He’ll hollow out his cheeks and suck hard, taking Dean in as far as he can. He loves the way Dean tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls not quite gently. When he’s close then he’ll pull Sam off entirely whispering, “Not yet, not yet.”
He’ll drag Sam up and they’ll kiss again. Sam wonders if Dean can taste himself in Sam’s mouth when he does that. He’ll beg Dean to fuck him then, peppering “pleases” and “I need its” in between placing almost-rough little love bites along Dean’s jaw and down the column of his neck.
Dean will grip his shoulders and spin them around, pushing Sam forward. He’ll crowd up against Sam’s back while Sam braces himself, palms spread flat against the dark wood of the desk. Dean will tug his pants down to his knees and Sam will spread his legs as wide as he can. He’ll wait, feeling deliciously exposed, while Dean rummages in his drawer for lube and a condom.
The first press of slick fingers against his hole is always cold and shocking. Dean won’t waste any time pressing one inside, then two, stretching Sam out, stroking and teasing until Sam’s pushing back against his fingers, desperate for more.
When he’s cursing and begging, so strung out with want and need and now, then Dean will pull his fingers free. Sam will have just enough time to feel empty with their absence before Dean is back against him. He’ll push in inch by inch, agonizingly slow until Sam can’t think of anything but Dean. Dean inside him and around him, everywhere.
And then Dean will start to move, thrusting hard and fast, and sparks of pleasure will run along Sam’s nerve endings. He’ll meet Dean thrust for thrust, trying to take him in deeper. Dean will turn his head with one strong hand and they’ll kiss, hot and messy.
When Sam’s moans are so loud that he’s sure someone outside can hear- and he might be concerned about that at another moment- and Dean’s rhythm starts to get erratic, he’ll slide his hand down and grip Sam’s cock. He’ll jerk him off, fast and perfect, and Sam will be coming in moments.
Dean will fuck him through the aftershocks until he finally tenses and stills against Sam’s back before going limp and boneless. After a long moment where they both just breathe and come back to reality, Sam will shift himself around to face Dean. They’ll kiss long and slow. Sam will run his hands through Dean’s hair, no longer so perfectly groomed, while Dean strokes a thumb along his jaw possessively.
And then they’ll get dressed, reassembling the appearance of professionalism. Sam will leave the office, sure that “well fucked” is written all over his face and trying to stop grinning stupidly in front of the secretaries in the hall. He’ll go back down the tech support and he’ll wait for the next time.
The elevator comes to a stop at twenty-two and the doors slide open. Sam is deeply grateful that there’s no one waiting outside to see him adjust his pants before he walks out and makes his way to Dean’s office.
He knocks.
“Come.”
He walks inside. “Mr. Smith. You asked to see me, sir?”
Dean looks up, green eyes glinting. “Mr. Wesson. Come in, come in. Shut the door.”
Author: sophie_448
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean Smith/Sam Wesson
Word Count: 903
Warnings: graphic m/m sex, AU of an AU?, still technically incest, misuse of company property, unbeta'd
Summary: Sam gets called up the the twenty-second floor on his lunch break. PWP
Notes: If you follow me on twitter, you probably saw the beginning of this earlier. Started as a silly little nothing to cheer up clex_monkie89 on the bus. ♥ BB! Thanks to Chat for the handholding and cheerleading!
Sam knows what's going to happen when he gets called up to the twenty-second floor. The same as every Tuesday and Thursday for the past three weeks. His pulse speeds up in anticipation when he thinks about Dean in those suspenders and his perfectly fitted suits. As the elevator counts up the floors he has a vivid image of ripping off Dean's crisply starched shirt sending buttons flying everywhere.
He won't, of course. Dean is too fastidious about his clothes to let Sam destroy them. Instead he'll loosen the silk tie carefully and pull it off. He'll slip each button out of place and kiss each new inch of exposed skin. He loves the way Dean's breath hitches just slightly, like he's trying not to let Sam hear, when Sam uses the barest hint of teeth.
Once he reaches the last button, licking teasingly above Dean’s waistband, Sam will move back up his body. He’ll slide each suspender slowly down Dean’s arms, one at a time, letting the elastic drag against his skin through fabric. Then he’ll push the shirt off Dean’s shoulders, revealing the miles of lightly freckled skin beneath.
Sam imagines the moment when their mouths finally meet, hot breath mingling between them, tongues battling fiercely. Dean will push him slightly backwards just long enough to pull that damned yellow polo over his head and toss it away. Then he’ll pull him back in and the heady feeling of skin on skin will go straight to Sam’s cock just like always.
He’ll drag his palms down Dean’s chest as he sinks to his knees to open the front of his trousers. He licks his lips just imagining pulling Dean’s cock out, hard and ready just for him. And the sounds he makes when Sam takes him in his mouth, tongue circling the head and lingering on the bundle of nerves underneath- breathy little whimpers and moans he can’t keep back.
Sam gets so turned on from making someone so in control of everything fall apart under his hands and mouth. He’ll hollow out his cheeks and suck hard, taking Dean in as far as he can. He loves the way Dean tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls not quite gently. When he’s close then he’ll pull Sam off entirely whispering, “Not yet, not yet.”
He’ll drag Sam up and they’ll kiss again. Sam wonders if Dean can taste himself in Sam’s mouth when he does that. He’ll beg Dean to fuck him then, peppering “pleases” and “I need its” in between placing almost-rough little love bites along Dean’s jaw and down the column of his neck.
Dean will grip his shoulders and spin them around, pushing Sam forward. He’ll crowd up against Sam’s back while Sam braces himself, palms spread flat against the dark wood of the desk. Dean will tug his pants down to his knees and Sam will spread his legs as wide as he can. He’ll wait, feeling deliciously exposed, while Dean rummages in his drawer for lube and a condom.
The first press of slick fingers against his hole is always cold and shocking. Dean won’t waste any time pressing one inside, then two, stretching Sam out, stroking and teasing until Sam’s pushing back against his fingers, desperate for more.
When he’s cursing and begging, so strung out with want and need and now, then Dean will pull his fingers free. Sam will have just enough time to feel empty with their absence before Dean is back against him. He’ll push in inch by inch, agonizingly slow until Sam can’t think of anything but Dean. Dean inside him and around him, everywhere.
And then Dean will start to move, thrusting hard and fast, and sparks of pleasure will run along Sam’s nerve endings. He’ll meet Dean thrust for thrust, trying to take him in deeper. Dean will turn his head with one strong hand and they’ll kiss, hot and messy.
When Sam’s moans are so loud that he’s sure someone outside can hear- and he might be concerned about that at another moment- and Dean’s rhythm starts to get erratic, he’ll slide his hand down and grip Sam’s cock. He’ll jerk him off, fast and perfect, and Sam will be coming in moments.
Dean will fuck him through the aftershocks until he finally tenses and stills against Sam’s back before going limp and boneless. After a long moment where they both just breathe and come back to reality, Sam will shift himself around to face Dean. They’ll kiss long and slow. Sam will run his hands through Dean’s hair, no longer so perfectly groomed, while Dean strokes a thumb along his jaw possessively.
And then they’ll get dressed, reassembling the appearance of professionalism. Sam will leave the office, sure that “well fucked” is written all over his face and trying to stop grinning stupidly in front of the secretaries in the hall. He’ll go back down the tech support and he’ll wait for the next time.
The elevator comes to a stop at twenty-two and the doors slide open. Sam is deeply grateful that there’s no one waiting outside to see him adjust his pants before he walks out and makes his way to Dean’s office.
He knocks.
“Come.”
He walks inside. “Mr. Smith. You asked to see me, sir?”
Dean looks up, green eyes glinting. “Mr. Wesson. Come in, come in. Shut the door.”