[Fic] I may never see the light
Title: I may never see the light
Author: weeping_ice
Beta: sepherim_ml
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Dean, Bobby, Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1289
Warnings: incest, slash, demon!Sam, hypnosis, dub-con
Summary: Sam pulled the chains, making the headboard hitting the wall. “Dean, I'm hungry,” he growled, griding his fangs and looking at him with pure craving and lust.
N/A: written for the Evil Sam Summer Challenge for the prompt Bloodletting by Concrete Blonde
“Boy, you look like shit.”
Dean lifted his head. Bobby was putting a big, hot cup of coffee in front of him and was pouring a shot of whiskey for himself.
“Can I...”
“With that face of yours?” The older hunter laughed, swallowing all his whiskey in one go. “You little weeping bitch should be in my panic room, sleeping like a baby, not crying in my kitchen trying to get drunk.”
And Dean knew that the old dog was damn right, but he couldn't sleep. The past week has been a long, too long and every time he slept... Sam came for him.
If only Dean had been more careful that night, now Sammy would have been there in the kitchen with them, maybe with an old book in his hands, bitching like usual.
But now Sam was an incubus; not a vampire, a black dog or a shapeshifter, but a fucking incubus coming directly from hell.
Sam pulled the chains, making the headboard hitting the wall. “Dean, I'm hungry,” he growled, griding his fangs and looking at him with pure craving and lust.
Dean could barely sustain his look for a few seconds before turning back to his bottle.
Damn, he would never expect an incubus with those clues and now Sam was one of them, only for a stupid mistake of his older brother.
If only Dean had seen that demon coming, maybe Sam wouldn't have ended on floor, with that hellish thing bleeding on his lips and in his mouth.
Dean emptied the bottle of rum with only one sip, looking back at his little brother with watering eyes.
Only one hour ago he had punched Sammy in his stomach just because his little brother hit and tried to have sex with a young waiter at the diner, almost killing her. But now... now Sam was tied to the bed of a shitty motel room with silver chains while a couple of strangers was apparently having a very wild sex in the nearest room.
Shit, this seemed to energize his demon brother, if the look he was giving to Dean meant something.
“I know, Sammy,” whispered, trying to ignore Sam's tongue coming out to lick his lips. “I'll be damned, but I know it. Tomorrow we'll go to Bobby, he would know for sure what to do and...”
“Dean.”
And if his brother was still himself, he would surely yell at Dean for his naivety and would know what to do. After all those years Dean knew better than look a demon in the eyes, but that wasn't a common demon; it was Sammy, his little brother, the same that his father put in his little arms so many years ago and the one Dean rescued from their burning house.
Sam was looking at him with a concentrated and pleased expression, looking like the cat that saw the canarin and was about to eat it. It was a scary and strange vision and Dean tried desperately to turn away; he had to resist, his mind must remain clear or he wouldn't able to help the little bitch to return normal again.
“Dean.”
His eyes were the same that enchanted that young girl, deep and full of promises. Dean never saw them like that and now... well, now all he wanted was to join his brother among the sheets and let himself fall in his arms.
“Sammy...”
“Dean, I said I'm hungry.”
And Sammy didn't have to repeat it again. Dean stood up, making the chair fall to the ground with a dull sound, and walked unsteadily towards his brother, like he was heavily drunk. He felt hot and a strong lust filled him, almost controlling him.
Sam was smirking, watching his brother getting close. “You are doing so good, dear brother of mine,” he said in a husky voice that went straight to Dean's cock. “Really good. But you can do better.”
“How?”
And no, that dreaming and tired voice that escaped from his lips couldn't be his, but Dean couldn't care less; he could feel his mouth stretched in a very stupid and empty smile and the pull to please his brother and feed him, but he was so tired...
“Sammy...”
“Take off your shirt, Dean,” whispered Sam, looking at his body with pure lust. Just for a moment Dean was sure that he saw Sam's eyes turn red like blood. “Come on, there are just the two of us. Take it off and come here to me.”
Dean didn't complain.
He took his shirt and pants off immediately, remaining only in his boxers. The front of the cloth was tensed against his leaking cock and it already spurted a dark spot, getting even bigger while Sam pointed the spot next to him.
“Come on, Dean, untie me and lay down here with me.” Sam spoke in a singsong voice that reminded Dean a lullaby and his favorite song at the same time.
“Sammy, I...”
“I know, you feel tired,” continued Sammy, cups kindly his face as soon as his hands were free and Dean had thrown the chains far away from the bed. “But I can make you feel so good Dean, so much good.” He added, lifting on his forearms and coming so close that Dean could feel his breath against his skin.
Their lip brushed together and the tip of Sam's tongue came out to caress Dean's mouth, tickling the corners and trying to enter inside his mouth and making him moan.
Sam's hands were now on his hips, caressing them in slow circles and lowering his boxers, showing more and more skin.
Without realising it, Dean was on the bed moaning and touching Sam's arms and his nipples. “Sammy!”
“I know, Dean, I know. But don't worry,” Sam reassured him. His hand was now caressing Dean ass, circling with slow movements his hole. “Don't worry, big brother, I will take such a good care of you,” he whispered, finally penetrating him with a finger and making him moan.
Dean was sure he moaned like a cheap slut. If only...
“Boy!”
The voice brutally pulled out from his thoughts. Bobby was now in front of him, taking away his cup of coffee.
“Hey, I was drinking that," protested Dean.
“You should be in bed, resting,” stated the older hunder, clearing the table from the bottles, glasses and cups. “You fool go to sleep while I make some research and I contact some hunters friends of mine.”
Bobby was right, Dean should rest before Sam come, but he knew he couldn't really sleep; in the moment he would close his eyes, Sam would be there to feed from him.
“But I...”
“Boy, you aren't of some use in this state. Go to sleep for a couple of hours.”
He should protest, but for some reason he couldn't find the strength; Bobby's eyes were strangely so hard and Dean felt so tired...
“Maybe you're right...”
“Of course I am,” the old hunter answered. “Go, before I take my shotgun loaded with salt.”
And under the threa, Dean left, going upstairs, but if he had waited only a moment more, he would had seen a new-comer make an entrance in the kitchen.
“I didn't expect him to surrender so fast.”
Bobby turned as fast as he could, his eyes completely deep black. “My Lord,” he whispered with awe, bowing.
Sam smiled and looked briefly at the stairs. “You did good, my running dog, very good,” he praised the older man, heading towards the stairs quick-paced. “Do not let anybody disturb us.”
Sam gave him a lopsided smile. “You know, we want to be alone: my consort and I have a lot to talk about.”
Author: weeping_ice
Beta: sepherim_ml
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Dean, Bobby, Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1289
Warnings: incest, slash, demon!Sam, hypnosis, dub-con
Summary: Sam pulled the chains, making the headboard hitting the wall. “Dean, I'm hungry,” he growled, griding his fangs and looking at him with pure craving and lust.
N/A: written for the Evil Sam Summer Challenge for the prompt Bloodletting by Concrete Blonde
“Boy, you look like shit.”
Dean lifted his head. Bobby was putting a big, hot cup of coffee in front of him and was pouring a shot of whiskey for himself.
“Can I...”
“With that face of yours?” The older hunter laughed, swallowing all his whiskey in one go. “You little weeping bitch should be in my panic room, sleeping like a baby, not crying in my kitchen trying to get drunk.”
And Dean knew that the old dog was damn right, but he couldn't sleep. The past week has been a long, too long and every time he slept... Sam came for him.
If only Dean had been more careful that night, now Sammy would have been there in the kitchen with them, maybe with an old book in his hands, bitching like usual.
But now Sam was an incubus; not a vampire, a black dog or a shapeshifter, but a fucking incubus coming directly from hell.
Sam pulled the chains, making the headboard hitting the wall. “Dean, I'm hungry,” he growled, griding his fangs and looking at him with pure craving and lust.
Dean could barely sustain his look for a few seconds before turning back to his bottle.
Damn, he would never expect an incubus with those clues and now Sam was one of them, only for a stupid mistake of his older brother.
If only Dean had seen that demon coming, maybe Sam wouldn't have ended on floor, with that hellish thing bleeding on his lips and in his mouth.
Dean emptied the bottle of rum with only one sip, looking back at his little brother with watering eyes.
Only one hour ago he had punched Sammy in his stomach just because his little brother hit and tried to have sex with a young waiter at the diner, almost killing her. But now... now Sam was tied to the bed of a shitty motel room with silver chains while a couple of strangers was apparently having a very wild sex in the nearest room.
Shit, this seemed to energize his demon brother, if the look he was giving to Dean meant something.
“I know, Sammy,” whispered, trying to ignore Sam's tongue coming out to lick his lips. “I'll be damned, but I know it. Tomorrow we'll go to Bobby, he would know for sure what to do and...”
“Dean.”
And if his brother was still himself, he would surely yell at Dean for his naivety and would know what to do. After all those years Dean knew better than look a demon in the eyes, but that wasn't a common demon; it was Sammy, his little brother, the same that his father put in his little arms so many years ago and the one Dean rescued from their burning house.
Sam was looking at him with a concentrated and pleased expression, looking like the cat that saw the canarin and was about to eat it. It was a scary and strange vision and Dean tried desperately to turn away; he had to resist, his mind must remain clear or he wouldn't able to help the little bitch to return normal again.
“Dean.”
His eyes were the same that enchanted that young girl, deep and full of promises. Dean never saw them like that and now... well, now all he wanted was to join his brother among the sheets and let himself fall in his arms.
“Sammy...”
“Dean, I said I'm hungry.”
And Sammy didn't have to repeat it again. Dean stood up, making the chair fall to the ground with a dull sound, and walked unsteadily towards his brother, like he was heavily drunk. He felt hot and a strong lust filled him, almost controlling him.
Sam was smirking, watching his brother getting close. “You are doing so good, dear brother of mine,” he said in a husky voice that went straight to Dean's cock. “Really good. But you can do better.”
“How?”
And no, that dreaming and tired voice that escaped from his lips couldn't be his, but Dean couldn't care less; he could feel his mouth stretched in a very stupid and empty smile and the pull to please his brother and feed him, but he was so tired...
“Sammy...”
“Take off your shirt, Dean,” whispered Sam, looking at his body with pure lust. Just for a moment Dean was sure that he saw Sam's eyes turn red like blood. “Come on, there are just the two of us. Take it off and come here to me.”
Dean didn't complain.
He took his shirt and pants off immediately, remaining only in his boxers. The front of the cloth was tensed against his leaking cock and it already spurted a dark spot, getting even bigger while Sam pointed the spot next to him.
“Come on, Dean, untie me and lay down here with me.” Sam spoke in a singsong voice that reminded Dean a lullaby and his favorite song at the same time.
“Sammy, I...”
“I know, you feel tired,” continued Sammy, cups kindly his face as soon as his hands were free and Dean had thrown the chains far away from the bed. “But I can make you feel so good Dean, so much good.” He added, lifting on his forearms and coming so close that Dean could feel his breath against his skin.
Their lip brushed together and the tip of Sam's tongue came out to caress Dean's mouth, tickling the corners and trying to enter inside his mouth and making him moan.
Sam's hands were now on his hips, caressing them in slow circles and lowering his boxers, showing more and more skin.
Without realising it, Dean was on the bed moaning and touching Sam's arms and his nipples. “Sammy!”
“I know, Dean, I know. But don't worry,” Sam reassured him. His hand was now caressing Dean ass, circling with slow movements his hole. “Don't worry, big brother, I will take such a good care of you,” he whispered, finally penetrating him with a finger and making him moan.
Dean was sure he moaned like a cheap slut. If only...
“Boy!”
The voice brutally pulled out from his thoughts. Bobby was now in front of him, taking away his cup of coffee.
“Hey, I was drinking that," protested Dean.
“You should be in bed, resting,” stated the older hunder, clearing the table from the bottles, glasses and cups. “You fool go to sleep while I make some research and I contact some hunters friends of mine.”
Bobby was right, Dean should rest before Sam come, but he knew he couldn't really sleep; in the moment he would close his eyes, Sam would be there to feed from him.
“But I...”
“Boy, you aren't of some use in this state. Go to sleep for a couple of hours.”
He should protest, but for some reason he couldn't find the strength; Bobby's eyes were strangely so hard and Dean felt so tired...
“Maybe you're right...”
“Of course I am,” the old hunter answered. “Go, before I take my shotgun loaded with salt.”
And under the threa, Dean left, going upstairs, but if he had waited only a moment more, he would had seen a new-comer make an entrance in the kitchen.
“I didn't expect him to surrender so fast.”
Bobby turned as fast as he could, his eyes completely deep black. “My Lord,” he whispered with awe, bowing.
Sam smiled and looked briefly at the stairs. “You did good, my running dog, very good,” he praised the older man, heading towards the stairs quick-paced. “Do not let anybody disturb us.”
Sam gave him a lopsided smile. “You know, we want to be alone: my consort and I have a lot to talk about.”