(no subject)
TITLE: The Night Listener
PAIRING: Dean/OFC, Sam
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them. Just doing this for kicks.
NOTES/WARNINGS: Yet another kink meme fill. Warning for underage (Sam is 12)
SUMMARY: From this prompt: Sam masturbates for the first time (12-ish?) while listening to Dean have sex with a girl
It's not like Sam doesn't know how sex works. Dad sat him down for an awkward, too-blunt talk two years ago when he found Sam sneaking a look at the skin mags everyone knew Dean kept at the bottom of his duffel. It was awful (at one point involving a demonstrative gesture of dad's fist smacking against his open palm), but effective, leaving Sam with the distinct impression of sex as a little scary, a little violent, something he wouldn't be ready to jump into for at least another five years.
But that doesn't mean Sam hasn't tried things, just on his own. He's touched himself a few times, inexpertly, just a few petting strokes to his...he doesn't even know what he wants to call it yet. He doesn't like to think about it at all, really, not even when he's prodding himself experimentally under the covers. He's gotten hard a few times -- looking at girls in school; during a couple weird dreams; some random mornings for no reason at all -- but he's never really done anything about the situation. He's always been too embarrassed, his erections disappearing through neglect.
He's seen Dean naked more than a few times, obviously, and even if he knows rationally that Dean's older, naturally taller, already beginning to move out of puberty while Sam has only just started -- Sam's still jealous. The raw envy he feels looking at his brother's body is enough to make him want to cry sometimes. He feels trapped in his slim little frame, his skinny chest and noodly little arms, like he'll never fill out the way Dean has. Every now and then, when the opportunity arises and he knows he can be discreet, he'll hazard a glance between his older brother's legs, and what he sees there fills him with such a deep covetousness that it almost feels like anger. He wants that, he wants to look like that. He wants to grow up already.
This is what he's brooding about tonight as he's rinsing the shampoo out of his hair in the shitty motel shower. With the low water pressure, the process is taking forever, giving him more time to sulk and agonize. Eventually, the warm water runs out and Sam gives up, turning off the shower completely and tugging the curtain aside to step out and wrap himself up in a towel. He scowls, unable to ignore how one measly motel towel covers most of his body, hanging loose down to the knobs of his knees. If only he were a little taller, a little bulkier --
He's drawn out of his stew with a jump and a gasp when he hears the muted sound of a knock on the motel room door. "Shit," he breathes almost silently, opening the bathroom door just a crack to peer through. Dean’s there in an instant, opening the bathroom door so he can loom over Sam. “Stay in here,” he says with the ghost of a smirk, the slightest edge of urgency in his voice. “Keep the door shut, turn the light off. Make a sound, and I will shoot you, I swear to god, Sammy.” He ruffles Sam’s wet hair and grins before adding, “You, uh, might wanna put your earmuffs on, buddy. It could get kinda heavy out there.” And then Dean shuts the door and Sam can hear his call out, “Just a sec!”
Confused, Sam drops to the floor to try to spy under the door. His view is mostly blocked by the thick, dusty pile of the room's carpet, but he hears his brother open the room door and say something that sounds like, “Hey, gorgeous.” “Hey yourself,” an unfamiliar, but distinctly female, voice responds with a giggle. Sam furrows his brow and sits up on his knees, pressing his ear against the door to get a better listen to what's happening out there. At the same time, he pushes back the harsh twinge of hurt feelings -- he’s going to be trapped in the bathroom for who knows how long just so Dean can make time with some girl?
The two voices in the room are muffled and low, but Sam recognizes Dean's tone, the one he uses when he's trying to coax and cajole. Unconsciously holding in a breath, Sam closes his eyes to try to listen more closely.
"No, baby, there's no one else here," he hears Dean assure her.
"Don't you have a little brother or something?"
"Uh, yeah, but he's...out. With dad. They're long gone, sweetheart, we've got the place to ourselves."
Behind the door, Sam bites back an indignant sound and pouts -- the kind of expression Dean would normally give him hell for -- but he keeps his mouth shut, covering his other ear so he can focus on what's going on in the bedroom. He hears a few soft groans, mostly the girl's, sometimes both of them in tandem, and then the squeak of a mattress, close. Probably the bed Sam's been sleeping in while dad's away, he thinks with a silent wince. He hears the girl sigh Dean's name, hears Dean laugh a little and kiss her again before murmuring, "Yeah? You like that, sugar?" And then another sigh and a choked-off groan from the girl: "Yeah, Dean, do it again..."
Sam closes his eyes and tries to imagine what they're doing. Dean likes to make Sam blush, get him all embarrassed with talk about his conquests. "Girls like a guy who's good with his hands, Sammy," he'd say with a grin and a flick of his fingers that verged on obscene. That's what Sam's seeing now in his mind: Dean and his girl tangled up together on the bed with Dean's hand up her skirt, stroking his fingers over her panties. He bites his lower lip and sucks it as he feels himself getting hard. He tries not to think about it.
"C'mon, Annie, open up for me. C'mon, lemme just -- " Dean's voice is low and Sam can hear the grin in it. There's a flurry of rustling and creaking, and then Sam hears a zipper being tugged down, followed by a short hesitation and then loud, rough kissing and groaning.
"Do it!" the girl cries out between sharp inhales. "God, do it, Dean, please...please, do it like you did last time."
"Yeah?" Dean laughs again. Sam can hear the mattress squeak as the two shift around. "If I do, are you gonna let me do you for real this time? No backing out?"
"I promise! God, I promise, Dean, I won't chicken out this time, just...god, I've been thinking about it all week, and I...god, please, Dean, c'mon, do that thing..."
"All right, all right, jeez. Let's just -- here -- just take -- there we go. God, that's perfect, stay just like that."
Sam furrows his brow and shifts a little, reaching down to give himself a few strokes to take the edge off. He can't wrap his mind around what they could possibly be doing in there, but he imagines there are probably more clothes on the floor than on their bodies. Maybe Dean is touching her breasts, or maybe he's still between her legs, making that motion with his fingers. Sam closes his eyes and tries to imagine what the girl looks like. He knows what kinds of girls Dean likes, and this one sounds like just his type: probably brunette, slender, maybe a cheerleader. Sam strokes himself again -- really strokes this time, with his fingers wrapped around and everything, and holy shit it feels good -- as he envisions her topless, Dean tending to her breasts. Sam's seen that before, in the magazine from Dean's bag, a guy kissing a girl’s breasts, licking his tongue against her nipple. Maybe that’s what Dean’s doing to the girl now that’s driving her so crazy. She’s making incredible sounds, mmms and ah!s and oh my gods, and Sam can’t hear Dean making any noise at all, just hungry, wet kissing sounds almost lost in the rhythmic rustling of sheets.
Sam's teeth sink into his lower lip as he experimentally tightens and loosens his fingers around himself. The girl on the other side of the door, the girl being pleasured by his big brother, sounds like she's ascending to heaven, her cries getting louder, shorter, more desperate, until she's almost reduced to just choking out Dean's name. They're both pretty noisy now, Dean's sounds muffled by her body. "Dean...Dean, don't stop," she groans. Sam can hear her voice oscillating, like she's moving her head from side to side. There's a stir of sheets, and then he hears his brother's voice: "You gotta loosen up, baby, you keep squeezing my head." Sam hears them both laugh a little, but he frowns a little as he tries to consider what she could be squeezing his head with. Her hands? Her...her legs? But why...? "Can't get you there if I can't breathe," Dean says with another easy laugh, like just minutes ago they weren't both just moaning like they were dying.
"Sorry, just...god, it feels so good, Dean. No one's ever did this before you." The girl sounds so sincere, but Sam wrinkles his nose at her grammar. His erection doesn't seem to care, though, giving a twitch at her words, her voice, the idea that Dean's giving her something she's never experienced before, even if Sam can't quite figure out what it is. Sam gives himself another pump, his mouth dropping open when he tentatively swipes his thumb over the very tip, smearing the liquid building up there. It's a little messy, but it's an intense burst of pleasure, and Sam has to clench his teeth to keep his moan from escaping. Glancing around in the dark of the bathroom, he brings his thumb up to his lips and flicks out his tongue to hazard a taste of the stuff.
"'S a damn shame." Dean's muted voice interrupts Sam's experiment. He presses his ear harder to the door to try to get a better listen, but he can still just barely make out his brother's words over the commotion of the sheets and mattress springs. "Dumbass boys don't know what they're missing," Dean continues. It sounds like he's kissing her again, but her groans are clear, so he can't be kissing her mouth. "This sweet little pussy deserves to be eaten every day."
Sam gasps at that, loud, hoping to god it's drowned out by the girl's simultaneous piercing cry. Sam's never seen the act before, but he's no idiot, he knows what those words mean. His breathing picks up, uncontrollably, rushing in his ears and overpowering the sounds from the other side of the door. He can hear Dean's voice, knows his brother is saying something else, probably something really dirty and gross, but he can't make out the words. He tightens his fist around himself and sucks both his lips between his teeth to keep from making a single sound. The girl is practically sobbing with pleasure now, and Sam closes his eyes, trying to envision the scene. What he's seen of naked women has either been abstract (like the unsettling, disembodied close-ups in the porno mags) or anatomical (like the illustrations in biology class and sex ed), so Sam tries to focus on his brother instead. He sees Dean's mouth, his lips, his tongue, all moving over pink, slick flesh. He sees Dean's jaw working, lips dragging, sealing, sucking, tongue stroking in rhythm with the girl's increasingly frantic whimpers.
He wonders how Dean has her. Maybe her legs are hooked over his lean shoulders, her heels pressing into the flexing muscles of his back. Or maybe her knees are pulled up to her breasts (a visual Sam can't quite explain), Dean's strong forearm hooked over her thighs and pushing down, keeping her...her pussy completely exposed. Holding his breath, Sam bites the side of his tongue as he slowly begins to stroke himself again, drawing his thumb carefully over the tip and swallowing his hiss at the raw kick it sends through his whole body.
The girl is really losing it now, crying out Dean's name in a high, breathless whine. "Don't stop, Dean, don't ever stop, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean!" And then it just seems like she loses all of her words, and all Sam hears is delirious gasping and a rhythmic pounding against the sheets like she's punching the mattress. Sam's eyes go wide in the dark when he realizes what's happening, and his hand begins moving almost of its own accord, gliding swiftly over his erection as he finally lets the heat start tumbling through him, zipping up through his chest to his cheeks, down to his thighs, up and down his spine in an endless loop like a carnival ride. His ear is still pressed painfully hard to the door, he hears the pounding and gasping settle down, and then he hears Dean laughing, low and sly, and in his mind's eye Sam can see him swipe his mouth clean on the back of his arm.
"Holy shit, baby," Dean groans. "Did you just...did I just make you...?"
"Yeah," the girl replies. And her voice sounds so worn out and broken that it's that one simple word that sends Sam over the edge, spurting weakly over his fingers as his tongue curls out over his upper lip in a desperate attempt to stay silent. His head tips back as the first orgasm of his life blazes through him, and he just takes a moment to truly enjoy it, shuddering and hot-faced in the dark, steamy bathroom, his hair sticking to his forehead, humid trickles of sweat rolling down his chest.
When he finally catches his breath, he hazards another listen to what's going on on the other side of the door. He leans his ear against the door just in time to hear his brother growling to his girl, "-- wet for me? Yeah? Nice and relaxed and ready for my dick? Yeah, fuck..."
Sam's still shivering from everything that's happened so far, but he just can't help himself. Biting the inside of his cheek, he wraps his fingers around his dick for round two.
PAIRING: Dean/OFC, Sam
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them. Just doing this for kicks.
NOTES/WARNINGS: Yet another kink meme fill. Warning for underage (Sam is 12)
SUMMARY: From this prompt: Sam masturbates for the first time (12-ish?) while listening to Dean have sex with a girl
It's not like Sam doesn't know how sex works. Dad sat him down for an awkward, too-blunt talk two years ago when he found Sam sneaking a look at the skin mags everyone knew Dean kept at the bottom of his duffel. It was awful (at one point involving a demonstrative gesture of dad's fist smacking against his open palm), but effective, leaving Sam with the distinct impression of sex as a little scary, a little violent, something he wouldn't be ready to jump into for at least another five years.
But that doesn't mean Sam hasn't tried things, just on his own. He's touched himself a few times, inexpertly, just a few petting strokes to his...he doesn't even know what he wants to call it yet. He doesn't like to think about it at all, really, not even when he's prodding himself experimentally under the covers. He's gotten hard a few times -- looking at girls in school; during a couple weird dreams; some random mornings for no reason at all -- but he's never really done anything about the situation. He's always been too embarrassed, his erections disappearing through neglect.
He's seen Dean naked more than a few times, obviously, and even if he knows rationally that Dean's older, naturally taller, already beginning to move out of puberty while Sam has only just started -- Sam's still jealous. The raw envy he feels looking at his brother's body is enough to make him want to cry sometimes. He feels trapped in his slim little frame, his skinny chest and noodly little arms, like he'll never fill out the way Dean has. Every now and then, when the opportunity arises and he knows he can be discreet, he'll hazard a glance between his older brother's legs, and what he sees there fills him with such a deep covetousness that it almost feels like anger. He wants that, he wants to look like that. He wants to grow up already.
This is what he's brooding about tonight as he's rinsing the shampoo out of his hair in the shitty motel shower. With the low water pressure, the process is taking forever, giving him more time to sulk and agonize. Eventually, the warm water runs out and Sam gives up, turning off the shower completely and tugging the curtain aside to step out and wrap himself up in a towel. He scowls, unable to ignore how one measly motel towel covers most of his body, hanging loose down to the knobs of his knees. If only he were a little taller, a little bulkier --
He's drawn out of his stew with a jump and a gasp when he hears the muted sound of a knock on the motel room door. "Shit," he breathes almost silently, opening the bathroom door just a crack to peer through. Dean’s there in an instant, opening the bathroom door so he can loom over Sam. “Stay in here,” he says with the ghost of a smirk, the slightest edge of urgency in his voice. “Keep the door shut, turn the light off. Make a sound, and I will shoot you, I swear to god, Sammy.” He ruffles Sam’s wet hair and grins before adding, “You, uh, might wanna put your earmuffs on, buddy. It could get kinda heavy out there.” And then Dean shuts the door and Sam can hear his call out, “Just a sec!”
Confused, Sam drops to the floor to try to spy under the door. His view is mostly blocked by the thick, dusty pile of the room's carpet, but he hears his brother open the room door and say something that sounds like, “Hey, gorgeous.” “Hey yourself,” an unfamiliar, but distinctly female, voice responds with a giggle. Sam furrows his brow and sits up on his knees, pressing his ear against the door to get a better listen to what's happening out there. At the same time, he pushes back the harsh twinge of hurt feelings -- he’s going to be trapped in the bathroom for who knows how long just so Dean can make time with some girl?
The two voices in the room are muffled and low, but Sam recognizes Dean's tone, the one he uses when he's trying to coax and cajole. Unconsciously holding in a breath, Sam closes his eyes to try to listen more closely.
"No, baby, there's no one else here," he hears Dean assure her.
"Don't you have a little brother or something?"
"Uh, yeah, but he's...out. With dad. They're long gone, sweetheart, we've got the place to ourselves."
Behind the door, Sam bites back an indignant sound and pouts -- the kind of expression Dean would normally give him hell for -- but he keeps his mouth shut, covering his other ear so he can focus on what's going on in the bedroom. He hears a few soft groans, mostly the girl's, sometimes both of them in tandem, and then the squeak of a mattress, close. Probably the bed Sam's been sleeping in while dad's away, he thinks with a silent wince. He hears the girl sigh Dean's name, hears Dean laugh a little and kiss her again before murmuring, "Yeah? You like that, sugar?" And then another sigh and a choked-off groan from the girl: "Yeah, Dean, do it again..."
Sam closes his eyes and tries to imagine what they're doing. Dean likes to make Sam blush, get him all embarrassed with talk about his conquests. "Girls like a guy who's good with his hands, Sammy," he'd say with a grin and a flick of his fingers that verged on obscene. That's what Sam's seeing now in his mind: Dean and his girl tangled up together on the bed with Dean's hand up her skirt, stroking his fingers over her panties. He bites his lower lip and sucks it as he feels himself getting hard. He tries not to think about it.
"C'mon, Annie, open up for me. C'mon, lemme just -- " Dean's voice is low and Sam can hear the grin in it. There's a flurry of rustling and creaking, and then Sam hears a zipper being tugged down, followed by a short hesitation and then loud, rough kissing and groaning.
"Do it!" the girl cries out between sharp inhales. "God, do it, Dean, please...please, do it like you did last time."
"Yeah?" Dean laughs again. Sam can hear the mattress squeak as the two shift around. "If I do, are you gonna let me do you for real this time? No backing out?"
"I promise! God, I promise, Dean, I won't chicken out this time, just...god, I've been thinking about it all week, and I...god, please, Dean, c'mon, do that thing..."
"All right, all right, jeez. Let's just -- here -- just take -- there we go. God, that's perfect, stay just like that."
Sam furrows his brow and shifts a little, reaching down to give himself a few strokes to take the edge off. He can't wrap his mind around what they could possibly be doing in there, but he imagines there are probably more clothes on the floor than on their bodies. Maybe Dean is touching her breasts, or maybe he's still between her legs, making that motion with his fingers. Sam closes his eyes and tries to imagine what the girl looks like. He knows what kinds of girls Dean likes, and this one sounds like just his type: probably brunette, slender, maybe a cheerleader. Sam strokes himself again -- really strokes this time, with his fingers wrapped around and everything, and holy shit it feels good -- as he envisions her topless, Dean tending to her breasts. Sam's seen that before, in the magazine from Dean's bag, a guy kissing a girl’s breasts, licking his tongue against her nipple. Maybe that’s what Dean’s doing to the girl now that’s driving her so crazy. She’s making incredible sounds, mmms and ah!s and oh my gods, and Sam can’t hear Dean making any noise at all, just hungry, wet kissing sounds almost lost in the rhythmic rustling of sheets.
Sam's teeth sink into his lower lip as he experimentally tightens and loosens his fingers around himself. The girl on the other side of the door, the girl being pleasured by his big brother, sounds like she's ascending to heaven, her cries getting louder, shorter, more desperate, until she's almost reduced to just choking out Dean's name. They're both pretty noisy now, Dean's sounds muffled by her body. "Dean...Dean, don't stop," she groans. Sam can hear her voice oscillating, like she's moving her head from side to side. There's a stir of sheets, and then he hears his brother's voice: "You gotta loosen up, baby, you keep squeezing my head." Sam hears them both laugh a little, but he frowns a little as he tries to consider what she could be squeezing his head with. Her hands? Her...her legs? But why...? "Can't get you there if I can't breathe," Dean says with another easy laugh, like just minutes ago they weren't both just moaning like they were dying.
"Sorry, just...god, it feels so good, Dean. No one's ever did this before you." The girl sounds so sincere, but Sam wrinkles his nose at her grammar. His erection doesn't seem to care, though, giving a twitch at her words, her voice, the idea that Dean's giving her something she's never experienced before, even if Sam can't quite figure out what it is. Sam gives himself another pump, his mouth dropping open when he tentatively swipes his thumb over the very tip, smearing the liquid building up there. It's a little messy, but it's an intense burst of pleasure, and Sam has to clench his teeth to keep his moan from escaping. Glancing around in the dark of the bathroom, he brings his thumb up to his lips and flicks out his tongue to hazard a taste of the stuff.
"'S a damn shame." Dean's muted voice interrupts Sam's experiment. He presses his ear harder to the door to try to get a better listen, but he can still just barely make out his brother's words over the commotion of the sheets and mattress springs. "Dumbass boys don't know what they're missing," Dean continues. It sounds like he's kissing her again, but her groans are clear, so he can't be kissing her mouth. "This sweet little pussy deserves to be eaten every day."
Sam gasps at that, loud, hoping to god it's drowned out by the girl's simultaneous piercing cry. Sam's never seen the act before, but he's no idiot, he knows what those words mean. His breathing picks up, uncontrollably, rushing in his ears and overpowering the sounds from the other side of the door. He can hear Dean's voice, knows his brother is saying something else, probably something really dirty and gross, but he can't make out the words. He tightens his fist around himself and sucks both his lips between his teeth to keep from making a single sound. The girl is practically sobbing with pleasure now, and Sam closes his eyes, trying to envision the scene. What he's seen of naked women has either been abstract (like the unsettling, disembodied close-ups in the porno mags) or anatomical (like the illustrations in biology class and sex ed), so Sam tries to focus on his brother instead. He sees Dean's mouth, his lips, his tongue, all moving over pink, slick flesh. He sees Dean's jaw working, lips dragging, sealing, sucking, tongue stroking in rhythm with the girl's increasingly frantic whimpers.
He wonders how Dean has her. Maybe her legs are hooked over his lean shoulders, her heels pressing into the flexing muscles of his back. Or maybe her knees are pulled up to her breasts (a visual Sam can't quite explain), Dean's strong forearm hooked over her thighs and pushing down, keeping her...her pussy completely exposed. Holding his breath, Sam bites the side of his tongue as he slowly begins to stroke himself again, drawing his thumb carefully over the tip and swallowing his hiss at the raw kick it sends through his whole body.
The girl is really losing it now, crying out Dean's name in a high, breathless whine. "Don't stop, Dean, don't ever stop, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean!" And then it just seems like she loses all of her words, and all Sam hears is delirious gasping and a rhythmic pounding against the sheets like she's punching the mattress. Sam's eyes go wide in the dark when he realizes what's happening, and his hand begins moving almost of its own accord, gliding swiftly over his erection as he finally lets the heat start tumbling through him, zipping up through his chest to his cheeks, down to his thighs, up and down his spine in an endless loop like a carnival ride. His ear is still pressed painfully hard to the door, he hears the pounding and gasping settle down, and then he hears Dean laughing, low and sly, and in his mind's eye Sam can see him swipe his mouth clean on the back of his arm.
"Holy shit, baby," Dean groans. "Did you just...did I just make you...?"
"Yeah," the girl replies. And her voice sounds so worn out and broken that it's that one simple word that sends Sam over the edge, spurting weakly over his fingers as his tongue curls out over his upper lip in a desperate attempt to stay silent. His head tips back as the first orgasm of his life blazes through him, and he just takes a moment to truly enjoy it, shuddering and hot-faced in the dark, steamy bathroom, his hair sticking to his forehead, humid trickles of sweat rolling down his chest.
When he finally catches his breath, he hazards another listen to what's going on on the other side of the door. He leans his ear against the door just in time to hear his brother growling to his girl, "-- wet for me? Yeah? Nice and relaxed and ready for my dick? Yeah, fuck..."
Sam's still shivering from everything that's happened so far, but he just can't help himself. Biting the inside of his cheek, he wraps his fingers around his dick for round two.