Fic: What Fourth Wall?
Title: What Fourth Wall?
Author: sophie_448
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 831
Warnings: incest, graphic m/m sex, implied crack
Summary: I feel that Kripke offered us a fic prompt in Thursday's premiere. This is my answer. First time wincest. Does not contain any actual spoilers for 5.01.
Notes: beta'd by waterofthemoon who seriously deserves a medal for putting up with my drafts.
ETA: SPOILERS in comments. Beware.
Sam reached out, hand shaking almost imperceptibly, and ran his fingers lightly over Dean's collarbone. Dean's eyes drifted shut, and he leaned slightly into the touch before wrenching himself back.
"This is wrong," he said. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Sam.
Sam clenched his teeth and huffed out a frustrated breath. "Then I don't want to be right," he said, advancing into Dean's space again.
"Really? That's what you're going with?" Dean asked. He didn't quite achieve the scorn he was going for.
"Dean," Sam said, not taking the bait.
"Sammy." Dean's eyes darted to the side. He seemed to be begging Sam to give him an out, but Sam wasn't biting. Sam reached out again, thumb stroking down the side of Dean's face to cup his jaw. Dean looked up, and when he met Sam's eyes, Sam could see the walls crumbling.
Dean seemed to snap. Sam was almost taken by surprise when Dean surged up and captured his lips in a bruising kiss, and he made a small sound against Dean's mouth and pulled him close, holding Dean tight against him like Dean might change his mind. They kissed fiercely, like they were trying to make up for years of frustration and unfulfilled wanting in one go.
Sam didn't even realize Dean was walking him backwards until his back hit the wall. Dean framed Sam’s face with his hands, tugging lightly on his hair. Sam grasped Dean’s hips and pulled him in closer, hissing at the feeling of Dean's cock, hard inside his jeans and pressing against his own. He let out a high sound that was definitely not a whimper.
"Dean," he said breathlessly, not sure what he was asking for.
Dean pulled back slightly and reached for the hem of Sam's t-shirt, pulling it upwards. Sam raised his arms, eager to get the fabric out of the way, and Dean ran his hands almost reverently along the planes of Sam's chest. As Dean's callused palms grazed his nipples, Sam sucked in a breath. Dean's thumbs slid along the waistband of Sam's jeans, dipping teasingly just below the line of the fabric.
"Fuck, please," Sam said, the words feeling torn from him.
Dean gave in, slipping his hands down the back of Sam's jeans and gripping his ass. He pulled Sam back in and attacked his mouth again. Sam couldn't help grinding down against Dean's hip, searching for friction.
Then Dean was moving them again, this time-oh, thank fuck-towards the bed. They pulled back from the kiss, their breathing ragged. Dean looked Sam up and down, and Sam had a moment of wild fear that he was going to change his mind.
"Get on the bed, Sammy."
Sam scrambled out of his jeans, relief and anticipation making him clumsy, and did as he was told. Dean shucked his own jeans and climbed onto the mattress beside Sam. He ran a hand down Sam's side and circled his hipbone with his thumb; Sam moved instinctively towards the touch. His eyes were drawn down the line of their bodies to Dean's cock, flushed red and leaking precome.
He reached out and wrapped his hand around it, tugging experimentally. Dean groaned, his head falling back. Encouraged, Sam kept going, trying different things. He was fascinated and incredibly turned on by the groans and gasps Dean made.
After a few moments, Dean pulled Sam's hand away. Sam was ready to protest until Dean pulled him close and arched his hips up against him. He got with the program quickly, seeking out the perfect, sweet, hot pressure against the groove of Dean's hip. As Dean thrust up against him, he buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck. They fell into a rhythm, one of Dean's hands tangling in the hair at Sam's nape while the other pressed into the hollow at the base of his spine.
Almost as quickly as they found it, their rhythm became erratic and broke down. It was only seconds before Dean went still underneath Sam, his back arching beautifully as he came, hot and messy between them. The feeling of it was enough to send Sam over the edge. He collapsed on the mattress beside Dean, breathing hard.
After a minute, Sam couldn't help but ask, "So, you gonna freak out?"
Dean was silent for long enough that Sam started to worry. “Maybe,” he answered finally. Sam looked over at him sharply. Dean rolled his eyes and moved towards Sam. He kissed him again, this time warm and slow instead of hard and desperate. “Later,” he said.
“Okay,” Sam said. He didn’t really want to drop it, but Dean clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk. He pulled Dean in close against him and dragged the covers up over them. Dean tensed for a moment, then relaxed against Sam. Sam listened until Dean’s breathing evened out before falling asleep.
Author: sophie_448
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 831
Warnings: incest, graphic m/m sex, implied crack
Summary: I feel that Kripke offered us a fic prompt in Thursday's premiere. This is my answer. First time wincest. Does not contain any actual spoilers for 5.01.
Notes: beta'd by waterofthemoon who seriously deserves a medal for putting up with my drafts.
ETA: SPOILERS in comments. Beware.
Sam reached out, hand shaking almost imperceptibly, and ran his fingers lightly over Dean's collarbone. Dean's eyes drifted shut, and he leaned slightly into the touch before wrenching himself back.
"This is wrong," he said. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Sam.
Sam clenched his teeth and huffed out a frustrated breath. "Then I don't want to be right," he said, advancing into Dean's space again.
"Really? That's what you're going with?" Dean asked. He didn't quite achieve the scorn he was going for.
"Dean," Sam said, not taking the bait.
"Sammy." Dean's eyes darted to the side. He seemed to be begging Sam to give him an out, but Sam wasn't biting. Sam reached out again, thumb stroking down the side of Dean's face to cup his jaw. Dean looked up, and when he met Sam's eyes, Sam could see the walls crumbling.
Dean seemed to snap. Sam was almost taken by surprise when Dean surged up and captured his lips in a bruising kiss, and he made a small sound against Dean's mouth and pulled him close, holding Dean tight against him like Dean might change his mind. They kissed fiercely, like they were trying to make up for years of frustration and unfulfilled wanting in one go.
Sam didn't even realize Dean was walking him backwards until his back hit the wall. Dean framed Sam’s face with his hands, tugging lightly on his hair. Sam grasped Dean’s hips and pulled him in closer, hissing at the feeling of Dean's cock, hard inside his jeans and pressing against his own. He let out a high sound that was definitely not a whimper.
"Dean," he said breathlessly, not sure what he was asking for.
Dean pulled back slightly and reached for the hem of Sam's t-shirt, pulling it upwards. Sam raised his arms, eager to get the fabric out of the way, and Dean ran his hands almost reverently along the planes of Sam's chest. As Dean's callused palms grazed his nipples, Sam sucked in a breath. Dean's thumbs slid along the waistband of Sam's jeans, dipping teasingly just below the line of the fabric.
"Fuck, please," Sam said, the words feeling torn from him.
Dean gave in, slipping his hands down the back of Sam's jeans and gripping his ass. He pulled Sam back in and attacked his mouth again. Sam couldn't help grinding down against Dean's hip, searching for friction.
Then Dean was moving them again, this time-oh, thank fuck-towards the bed. They pulled back from the kiss, their breathing ragged. Dean looked Sam up and down, and Sam had a moment of wild fear that he was going to change his mind.
"Get on the bed, Sammy."
Sam scrambled out of his jeans, relief and anticipation making him clumsy, and did as he was told. Dean shucked his own jeans and climbed onto the mattress beside Sam. He ran a hand down Sam's side and circled his hipbone with his thumb; Sam moved instinctively towards the touch. His eyes were drawn down the line of their bodies to Dean's cock, flushed red and leaking precome.
He reached out and wrapped his hand around it, tugging experimentally. Dean groaned, his head falling back. Encouraged, Sam kept going, trying different things. He was fascinated and incredibly turned on by the groans and gasps Dean made.
After a few moments, Dean pulled Sam's hand away. Sam was ready to protest until Dean pulled him close and arched his hips up against him. He got with the program quickly, seeking out the perfect, sweet, hot pressure against the groove of Dean's hip. As Dean thrust up against him, he buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck. They fell into a rhythm, one of Dean's hands tangling in the hair at Sam's nape while the other pressed into the hollow at the base of his spine.
Almost as quickly as they found it, their rhythm became erratic and broke down. It was only seconds before Dean went still underneath Sam, his back arching beautifully as he came, hot and messy between them. The feeling of it was enough to send Sam over the edge. He collapsed on the mattress beside Dean, breathing hard.
After a minute, Sam couldn't help but ask, "So, you gonna freak out?"
Dean was silent for long enough that Sam started to worry. “Maybe,” he answered finally. Sam looked over at him sharply. Dean rolled his eyes and moved towards Sam. He kissed him again, this time warm and slow instead of hard and desperate. “Later,” he said.
“Okay,” Sam said. He didn’t really want to drop it, but Dean clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk. He pulled Dean in close against him and dragged the covers up over them. Dean tensed for a moment, then relaxed against Sam. Sam listened until Dean’s breathing evened out before falling asleep.