SUPERNATURAL Fic: Of Sabotage, Subterfuge, and Cake -- S/D
Title: Of Sabotage, Subterfuge, and Cake
Author: Magz
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Summary: "Anyway, I'm tough and gamey. If they want a snack, they'll want someone young and tender."
Author's Note: OMG, my first Wincest evar. For Mari on her birthday, because it's still your birthday until you go to bed, dammit, even if the calendar says otherwise. Happy birthday, yay! ::collapses:: Oh! And thanks to sacrilicious and jyuu_chan for the moral support.
OF SABOTAGE, SUBTERFUGE, AND CAKE
"Alright. Get in, Sam." Dean gestured with the spatula and Sam stared at him.
"I'm not getting in there."
Dean sighed. "Come on. It's just a cake. It's not gonna eat you," he cajoled.
"It's not really the cake I'm worried about," Sam muttered, crossing his arms sullenly.
"Oh, the werewolves?" Dean asked. "Please. There's only three of them, and they're not gonna eat you, either." He waved the spatula again. "It's the night before the full moon, now hop in."
"You're smaller, why don't you do it?"
Dean scowled. "Look, just because you're taller than me -- " he began, but then smiled abruptly. "You're more flexible. I've still got back pain from that last poltergeist."
"You've got better aim!" Sam countered, nodding slightly.
"That's because you're always skipping out on target practice to read," Dean replied. "And anyway, I'm tough and gamey. If they want a snack, they'll want someone young and tender, like you."
"Thought you said they weren't going to eat me," Sam sneered. He stepped back, moving away from the enormous cake. "And I'm allergic to nuts. What if there are nuts in the cake batter? You know they give me hives."
"Then I'll buy you some calamine lotion."
"You're a jerk," Sam sniffed.
"I never said I wouldn't do it," Dean replied. "Now help me in and hand me those guns."
"You've got frosting in your hair," Sam said, glancing over the laptop screen at Dean.
"I've had worse," Dean replied, but sauntered off to the bathroom to clean it out, anyway. Ten minutes later when he emerged, Sam hadn't moved, and was still staring intently at the screen.
"You know, if you wanted to watch porn, you should've told me," Dean said, scrubbing at his head with a towel. "I'd make myself scarce."
Sam closed the laptop quickly. "I'm not watching porn," he said.
"Anymore," Dean said with a grin. "Come on, what was it? Lipstick lesbians? Light bondage? Maybe chicks with dicks?"
Sam scowled, his cheeks reddening. "Dean -- "
"I knew you were a freak!" Dean crowed. He itched at the waistband of his underwear and wondered vaguely if nut allergies ran in the family.
"Shut up!" Sam whined, then felt like an enormous dork for whining and wondered if his maturity level had suddenly regressed ten years. He opened the laptop again and Dean dashed behind him, peering over his shoulder before he had the chance to close the window.
Dean let out a long-suffering sigh. "Blogging, Sammy?" He shook his head. "What the hell could you blog about that wouldn't make the entire internet think you're a whackjob?"
Sam closed the window and turned off the laptop. "'Today my brother annoyed me until I punched him,'" he recited in a cheerful tone.
Dean clucked his tongue. "Never figured you for the diary type," he said even as Sam was muttering that a blog wasn't a diary, and crossed the few feet between the little table on which the laptop sat and his bed. He flopped down on it and the bed emitted an ominous combination of noises, but held. "Gotta love ancient mattresses. Ten years from now this thing will be worth a lot of money to an archaeologist."
"Don't bounce on it too much," Sam warned.
Tucking his tongue between his teeth and grinning, Dean bounced.
The bed creaked again, and then collapsed in the middle, sending Dean onto the floor in a heap of damp limbs. Then he laughed until he couldn't breathe.
"I warned you," Sam said as he headed for the bathroom.
When Sam got out, Dean was in his bed.
"Out!" Sam exclaimed, pointing at the ratty-looking armchair in the corner.
"C'mon, Sammy..." Dean wheedled. "My bed's broken. And look! I'll only take up a little room." He scooted over until he was teetering on the very edge of the queen-sized mattress. "Besides. Who's the one who was almost werewolf kibble today?"
"Not you," Sam retorted. "You killed all three within ten seconds. I'm not letting you bogart my bed when you obviously weren't in any danger." He immediately regretted making the remark when the look on Dean's face told him he was filing it away for future reference, in case he ever managed to break a bed and himself in the same day.
"Some brother you are," Dean muttered then, sitting up and pushing the covers back. "Won't even share your bed when mine's broken..."
Looking very put upon, Sam groused, "Lie back down, jerk." He ran his fingers through his damp hair and knew it'd be a mass of fluffy tangles in the morning, especially if he had to play tug-of-war with the covers all night long. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing," he said as he got in on the other side of the bed.
Dean adopted a ridiculously innocent expression. "What do you think that I don't think you don't know I'm doing?"
Sam fluffed the pillow under his head. "Those comments about porn. Walking around in your In The Game underwear. Randomly breaking your bed. You're the least subtle person on the entire planet, Dean."
Dean smiled indulgently.
"Not that it's not working. But there are more classy ways of getting someone to sleep with you." Then Sam abruptly rolled over, pinning Dean's legs down with one long thigh.
"I'm not sure class is involved in telling your brother that you're horny, and would he please do something about it," Dean replied, even as he was mouthing at Sam's neck and pushing up against him. And who needed subtlety when it got Sam to hump right back and do that little grinding thing with his hips that made Dean tingle down to his toes?
When they kissed it was wet and dirty, but Sam pulled away with a little yelp as Dean tugged a bit too hard on a patch of pubes in his haste to get their underwear out of the way. "You'd think you'd never done this before," he muttered, but Dean was totally forgiven when he shoved a hand between them and started stroking Sam's dick.
Dean leaned up, seeking Sam's mouth when Sam's hand wedged between them to cup his balls in the way that always had him spreading his legs. And Sam would mock him about walking bowlegged in the morning, but for now, Dean just really, really -- "Wanna ride you," he said against Sam's jaw.
"Really not complaining," Sam said as he found himself pushed onto his back, Dean climbing on top and rubbing his body on Sam's. Sidetracked by the slide of Dean's dick against his own, Sam wrapped a leg tight around Dean's and thrust up against him until Dean sat up and grabbed his cock by the base. "Oh, but -- " Sam protested, knowing it was going to be tight for Dean and it'd probably hurt tomorrow, if not now, but then Dean was sitting on his dick and he was sliding up and in so smoothly... " -- but, oh..."
"I was too wound up to wait," Dean panted apologetically, leaning down to breathe a kiss against Sam's lips.
Sam swallowed back a whimper. As hot as it was to stretch Dean open and make him writhe, the thought of Dean doing it to himself was causing him some serious doubts about how long he was going to last tonight. "Again," he rasped as Dean raised and lowered his hips experimentally, "not complaining." He sat up and wrapped his arms around Dean's lower back.
With Sam's fingers curling over his hips, Dean rested his arms on Sam's shoulders and rocked into his favorite pace for the position, a somewhat erratic pattern alternating fast and slow, hard and gentle that always wrenched away Sam's control completely, because that's when the fun really started. "C'mon, Sammy," Dean urged. He bit at Sam's earlobe. "C'mon..."
"I -- " Sam began, but he could never talk when Dean was riding him. He settled for clenching and relaxing his fingers on Dean's hips, his arms helping to raise and lower him and trying to guide his movements, but Dean wouldn't be guided. And that was always Dean's way of making him --
Flat on his back on the bed, the wind knocked out of him, with Sam staring fiercely down at him as he rutted hard and steady between Dean's splayed legs -- this was what it always came down to. What Dean really wanted whenever he started that teasing rhythm. Dean stared right back up at Sam, not knowing if Sam even really saw him even as every thrust jolted him a little further across the bed. Dean regained his breath and grabbed onto the covers with his free hand. "Harder," he demanded.
Harder would make bruises. Harder would leave them both sore. Harder was exactly what Sam gave him. He slid his knees forward until they were spread and braced, lifted Dean's hips, and listened to the satisfying smack smack smack of taut flesh meeting flesh. Now Dean's head was hanging off the edge of the bed, and when he lifted it, it wasn't just the muscles in his neck that clenched. And Sam let go with a howl.
Dean watched as Sam shook apart above him, his hair plastered to his forehead and his mouth open on one of Dean's favorite sounds, hips still working all the while. Dean closed his eyes and thought of that noise while he jerked his dick until his toes curled and he came.
In the middle of the night, Sam woke at the sound of a soft clank. He squinted as he surveyed the room and saw Dean lying on his back, his torso beneath the other bed as he tightened the screws that held the frame together.
Whuffing out a laugh into his pillow, Sam turned over and went back to sleep.
Author: Magz
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Summary: "Anyway, I'm tough and gamey. If they want a snack, they'll want someone young and tender."
Author's Note: OMG, my first Wincest evar. For Mari on her birthday, because it's still your birthday until you go to bed, dammit, even if the calendar says otherwise. Happy birthday, yay! ::collapses:: Oh! And thanks to sacrilicious and jyuu_chan for the moral support.
OF SABOTAGE, SUBTERFUGE, AND CAKE
"Alright. Get in, Sam." Dean gestured with the spatula and Sam stared at him.
"I'm not getting in there."
Dean sighed. "Come on. It's just a cake. It's not gonna eat you," he cajoled.
"It's not really the cake I'm worried about," Sam muttered, crossing his arms sullenly.
"Oh, the werewolves?" Dean asked. "Please. There's only three of them, and they're not gonna eat you, either." He waved the spatula again. "It's the night before the full moon, now hop in."
"You're smaller, why don't you do it?"
Dean scowled. "Look, just because you're taller than me -- " he began, but then smiled abruptly. "You're more flexible. I've still got back pain from that last poltergeist."
"You've got better aim!" Sam countered, nodding slightly.
"That's because you're always skipping out on target practice to read," Dean replied. "And anyway, I'm tough and gamey. If they want a snack, they'll want someone young and tender, like you."
"Thought you said they weren't going to eat me," Sam sneered. He stepped back, moving away from the enormous cake. "And I'm allergic to nuts. What if there are nuts in the cake batter? You know they give me hives."
"Then I'll buy you some calamine lotion."
"You're a jerk," Sam sniffed.
"I never said I wouldn't do it," Dean replied. "Now help me in and hand me those guns."
"You've got frosting in your hair," Sam said, glancing over the laptop screen at Dean.
"I've had worse," Dean replied, but sauntered off to the bathroom to clean it out, anyway. Ten minutes later when he emerged, Sam hadn't moved, and was still staring intently at the screen.
"You know, if you wanted to watch porn, you should've told me," Dean said, scrubbing at his head with a towel. "I'd make myself scarce."
Sam closed the laptop quickly. "I'm not watching porn," he said.
"Anymore," Dean said with a grin. "Come on, what was it? Lipstick lesbians? Light bondage? Maybe chicks with dicks?"
Sam scowled, his cheeks reddening. "Dean -- "
"I knew you were a freak!" Dean crowed. He itched at the waistband of his underwear and wondered vaguely if nut allergies ran in the family.
"Shut up!" Sam whined, then felt like an enormous dork for whining and wondered if his maturity level had suddenly regressed ten years. He opened the laptop again and Dean dashed behind him, peering over his shoulder before he had the chance to close the window.
Dean let out a long-suffering sigh. "Blogging, Sammy?" He shook his head. "What the hell could you blog about that wouldn't make the entire internet think you're a whackjob?"
Sam closed the window and turned off the laptop. "'Today my brother annoyed me until I punched him,'" he recited in a cheerful tone.
Dean clucked his tongue. "Never figured you for the diary type," he said even as Sam was muttering that a blog wasn't a diary, and crossed the few feet between the little table on which the laptop sat and his bed. He flopped down on it and the bed emitted an ominous combination of noises, but held. "Gotta love ancient mattresses. Ten years from now this thing will be worth a lot of money to an archaeologist."
"Don't bounce on it too much," Sam warned.
Tucking his tongue between his teeth and grinning, Dean bounced.
The bed creaked again, and then collapsed in the middle, sending Dean onto the floor in a heap of damp limbs. Then he laughed until he couldn't breathe.
"I warned you," Sam said as he headed for the bathroom.
When Sam got out, Dean was in his bed.
"Out!" Sam exclaimed, pointing at the ratty-looking armchair in the corner.
"C'mon, Sammy..." Dean wheedled. "My bed's broken. And look! I'll only take up a little room." He scooted over until he was teetering on the very edge of the queen-sized mattress. "Besides. Who's the one who was almost werewolf kibble today?"
"Not you," Sam retorted. "You killed all three within ten seconds. I'm not letting you bogart my bed when you obviously weren't in any danger." He immediately regretted making the remark when the look on Dean's face told him he was filing it away for future reference, in case he ever managed to break a bed and himself in the same day.
"Some brother you are," Dean muttered then, sitting up and pushing the covers back. "Won't even share your bed when mine's broken..."
Looking very put upon, Sam groused, "Lie back down, jerk." He ran his fingers through his damp hair and knew it'd be a mass of fluffy tangles in the morning, especially if he had to play tug-of-war with the covers all night long. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing," he said as he got in on the other side of the bed.
Dean adopted a ridiculously innocent expression. "What do you think that I don't think you don't know I'm doing?"
Sam fluffed the pillow under his head. "Those comments about porn. Walking around in your In The Game underwear. Randomly breaking your bed. You're the least subtle person on the entire planet, Dean."
Dean smiled indulgently.
"Not that it's not working. But there are more classy ways of getting someone to sleep with you." Then Sam abruptly rolled over, pinning Dean's legs down with one long thigh.
"I'm not sure class is involved in telling your brother that you're horny, and would he please do something about it," Dean replied, even as he was mouthing at Sam's neck and pushing up against him. And who needed subtlety when it got Sam to hump right back and do that little grinding thing with his hips that made Dean tingle down to his toes?
When they kissed it was wet and dirty, but Sam pulled away with a little yelp as Dean tugged a bit too hard on a patch of pubes in his haste to get their underwear out of the way. "You'd think you'd never done this before," he muttered, but Dean was totally forgiven when he shoved a hand between them and started stroking Sam's dick.
Dean leaned up, seeking Sam's mouth when Sam's hand wedged between them to cup his balls in the way that always had him spreading his legs. And Sam would mock him about walking bowlegged in the morning, but for now, Dean just really, really -- "Wanna ride you," he said against Sam's jaw.
"Really not complaining," Sam said as he found himself pushed onto his back, Dean climbing on top and rubbing his body on Sam's. Sidetracked by the slide of Dean's dick against his own, Sam wrapped a leg tight around Dean's and thrust up against him until Dean sat up and grabbed his cock by the base. "Oh, but -- " Sam protested, knowing it was going to be tight for Dean and it'd probably hurt tomorrow, if not now, but then Dean was sitting on his dick and he was sliding up and in so smoothly... " -- but, oh..."
"I was too wound up to wait," Dean panted apologetically, leaning down to breathe a kiss against Sam's lips.
Sam swallowed back a whimper. As hot as it was to stretch Dean open and make him writhe, the thought of Dean doing it to himself was causing him some serious doubts about how long he was going to last tonight. "Again," he rasped as Dean raised and lowered his hips experimentally, "not complaining." He sat up and wrapped his arms around Dean's lower back.
With Sam's fingers curling over his hips, Dean rested his arms on Sam's shoulders and rocked into his favorite pace for the position, a somewhat erratic pattern alternating fast and slow, hard and gentle that always wrenched away Sam's control completely, because that's when the fun really started. "C'mon, Sammy," Dean urged. He bit at Sam's earlobe. "C'mon..."
"I -- " Sam began, but he could never talk when Dean was riding him. He settled for clenching and relaxing his fingers on Dean's hips, his arms helping to raise and lower him and trying to guide his movements, but Dean wouldn't be guided. And that was always Dean's way of making him --
Flat on his back on the bed, the wind knocked out of him, with Sam staring fiercely down at him as he rutted hard and steady between Dean's splayed legs -- this was what it always came down to. What Dean really wanted whenever he started that teasing rhythm. Dean stared right back up at Sam, not knowing if Sam even really saw him even as every thrust jolted him a little further across the bed. Dean regained his breath and grabbed onto the covers with his free hand. "Harder," he demanded.
Harder would make bruises. Harder would leave them both sore. Harder was exactly what Sam gave him. He slid his knees forward until they were spread and braced, lifted Dean's hips, and listened to the satisfying smack smack smack of taut flesh meeting flesh. Now Dean's head was hanging off the edge of the bed, and when he lifted it, it wasn't just the muscles in his neck that clenched. And Sam let go with a howl.
Dean watched as Sam shook apart above him, his hair plastered to his forehead and his mouth open on one of Dean's favorite sounds, hips still working all the while. Dean closed his eyes and thought of that noise while he jerked his dick until his toes curled and he came.
In the middle of the night, Sam woke at the sound of a soft clank. He squinted as he surveyed the room and saw Dean lying on his back, his torso beneath the other bed as he tightened the screws that held the frame together.
Whuffing out a laugh into his pillow, Sam turned over and went back to sleep.