Fic: Good Vibrations (Dean/Sam)
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, BDSM, sex toys, rough sex
Notes: #6 in the Werewolf Porn series (back to part five)
Summary - After the fallout from "Finding the Balance", Dean has something special planned for his 'alpha' - it's going to be a long night for Sammy.
The cheap motel lamplight cast a warm orange glow on Sam's bare skin. He was laid out on top of the sheets squirming a little under Dean's gaze, wearing nothing but the thick black collar with Dean's name on the tag - tied to the headboard by a metal leash. He had balked when Dean had shown him the leash, but had reluctantly gone along with it at his brother's prompting. Dean had this way of getting him into things Sam absolutely knew he was going to hate, right up until he was coming so hard he couldn't breathe.
Though you wouldn't know it from his aching, blood heavy length, Sam was nervous. Usually when Dean pulled out the kink, he did it somewhere public - get Sam all worked up - and then the second they were alone he'd be naked and begging for Sam to fuck him. This calm, patient - fucking slow - shit was the kind of thing Sam would pull, not Dean. He only managed to keep from compulsively flexing his fingers in the sheets because he had a feeling Dean would just enjoy his anxiety.
Dean sauntered slowly over to the bed, giving his little brother plenty of time to watch him approach.
Sam had hesitated for a second to put on the collar again; not that he really minded wearing it - actually, though he would die a thousand deaths before admitting it out loud, he had developed kind of a thing for it; feeling the weight of his connection to Dean as an actual physical presence, coupled with the way Dean reacted to him having it on... it was impossible not to get turned on. No, the reason he had hesitated was because this was the first time since the Trey incident that things had taken a turn for the kinky and a part of him was worried it might be different.
They had gotten back into their routine fast, with no real problems falling into their sexual relationship again, but things hadn't been as hot and heavy as they were before. Truthfully, Sam had kind of been missing the little games they'd been playing before - letting that mixture of tension and competition and playfulness that had always been part of their relationship bleed over into sex seemed like the most natural thing in the world. In fact, without having it in the back of his mind as an option - because there was no way after what had happened that he could make a move before Dean - things had seemed a little strained, a little artificial, like when they used fake names and fake lives on hunts. Somehow 'normal' was wrong between them, and as fucked up and just a little bit scary as it was not knowing what Dean had in store for him, Sam was glad to have this back.
Whatever Dean's plans were, he certainly seemed to be enjoying them - a manic light painting his green eyes - and this must be exactly the way fuzzy little woodland creatures feel when they see a wolf. There was just no fucking way anyone but Dean could pull off intimidating while standing there, naked with a hard-on.
Dean settled over Sam's body, straddling his hips so that Sam's cock pressed maddeningly into the small of his brother's back. Dean was just grinning down at him in this fucked up, delighted kind of way that had Sam's stomach doing an Olympic-level gymnastic routine. He was dying to know what his brother was up to, but Dean had ordered him not to talk - probably just because he thought Sam couldn't do it - and the younger Winchester had every intention of proving him wrong.
His defiance was forgotten for a moment though, as Dean leaned forward - the leaking head of Sam's dick sliding across smooth skin and sending hot sparks along his nerves - and grazed his lips over Sam's.
Sam tilted his chin up for the kiss his knew his brother was going to give him - he secretly thought that Dean liked kissing as much as getting a blow job - but instead his lips found only air. Dean's warm breath shunted across his mouth - fucking grinning - before that wet pink tongue darted out to wet Sam's lips. He felt his mouth open automatically for his brother to explore, his own tongue flicking over the softness inside his bottom lip while he waited again for something that didn't come. It took everything he had not to yell 'what the fuck!' - when the hell did Dean become a tease?
"Now, Sammy, we're going to play a little game," Dean smirked, before moving his head down to nip at Sam's earlobe while he talked. And damn Dean for knowing his body so well because there was just no way at all to suppress the shiver that ran through Sam, settling in the building heat of his balls. His hips twitched automatically, skating across Dean's skin again, but Dean was talking and it might be worth it to pay attention, given the circumstances.
"I'm going to have a little fun with this tight, hot body of yours, and if you're a good boy, I'm going to give you everything you want. Everything you can take. But if you try to ruin my fun," Dean gave a little tug on the leash tethering Sam to the bed, "I'm going to take things away." He kissed the throbbing pulse beneath Sam's ear, flicking his tongue over it in time to Sam's rapid-fire heartbeat. "Sound fair?"
Sam probably would have answered him that time - hell no that didn't sound fair! He was fucking tied to the bed! - order to stay quiet or no, except somewhere in there, the gravel-rough promises of Dean's voice had short circuited part of Sam's brain. Instead he felt a high keening sound reverberating from his throat as his hips wriggled again, trying to get some friction on his cock on his own if Dean wasn't going to fucking do it for him.
His brother seemed to take that for a yes.
He slowly closed his lips over Sam's in what Sam tried really hard not to think of as a reward. Dean's hot, plump lips pressed over his was too tantalizing after all the near-misses and he just couldn't resist taking that bottom lip between his and suckling on it. He also knew what that little move did to Dean and he wasn't disappointed when he felt his brother's breath stutter and his heavy cock twitch against Sam's stomach. Dean wasn't the only one who could tease.
"Good boy," Dean mumbled into Sam's mouth, words lust-slurred, before pulling away with one last too-quick kiss. He readjusted backward to kneel between Sam's legs, and Sam felt every inch of the movement as his cock was dragged along his brother's skin agonizingly slowly. He was arching at the loss of contact on his swollen member and Dean chuckled darkly, watching Sam’s traitorous length jump under the weight of his gaze. Sam almost managed to hold back that whine.
Dean reached into the little black bag on the bed next to them - ok, Sam was beginning to understand why bringing secret supplies to bed was annoying - pulling out the lube. He slicked up the fingers of both hands quickly, and Sam couldn't help but watch every move of those thick digits, wondering what Dean was planning on doing with them. Stupid twitchy cock.
One slick hand wrapped around Sam's weeping dick, stoking slow and pulling out a groan that tensed the leash as Sam's abs bunched. Dimly he heard the bag beside Dean rustle again, but his eyelids suddenly weighed a couple tons each and as long as Dean didn't stop stroking he could do a fucking piano solo with the other hand for all Sam cared.
As he leisurely milked Sam's cock, Dean rubbed the fingers of his other hand against Sam's hole; the ring of muscle flexing and jumping under his ministrations. With no thought other than the electric pleasure shivering through him - never quite hard or fast enough - Sam started grinding his hips up into Dean's hand, down toward his probing fingers.
He felt to first knuckle of Dean finger slide inside of him and even though he wanted it - he felt like he was crawling out of his skin with the need for more sensation - his body clamped down hard against the unaccustomed intrusion. The only times he'd ever had his brothers fingers inside of him were when Dean wanted to see him squirm a little extra during a blow job, and even though it felt good, it was still alien to Sam.
He gripped the sheets hard, body flooding with the heat emanating from his groin - the current center of his world - as Dean worked his finger all the way into his brother's body, then back out again.
Without warning, Dean picked up the pace, the fog of notenough giving way to a tide of almosttoomuchsogooddontstop. Dean's finger was fucking in and out of his hole in time with the smooth drag of his fist on Sam's cock; the burn from his ass getting mixed up in the sweetness of having his dick stroked until Sam wasn't sure what was happening but it was going to be over fucking soon.
He was biting his lips to keep back the stream of praise and pleas and Dean's name that was threatening to spill out. On the next upstroke Dean dug his thumbnail into the slit and that was the breaking point. Sam's vision went white as Dean stroked him through the sweltering waves of orgasm.
When Sam finally collapsed onto the bed, muscles loose with satisfaction, Dean leaned over to press a wet, open kiss to the spent cockhead, licking at the come still clinging there. The sensation was like pins and needles on Sam's too sensitive flesh and he tried to push Dean's head away. His older brother grabbed at the hand pushing at him, catching it in a tight grip.
"What did I tell you about spoiling my fun, Sammy?' he warned. Sam's brain took a couple of slow eternities to process the words before he remembered with a sick jolt what Dean had said earlier. He opened his mouth to try and protest, but Dean cut him off with a wagging finger and an "Ah ah ah."
Sam definitely deserved some kind of bottom-boy bonus points for biting down on his tongue and not saying anything. Dean reached into the bag beside him again, looking pleased with his own preparedness, and pulled out a set of handcuffs - not the silver ones Sam had used on him, but effective none the less.
Sam couldn't help but flinch when Dean snapped the cuffs closed around one wrist, sliding the chain though the slats of the headboard. Then he held his own hand out, palm up, in front of Sam and raised one perfect eyebrow in obvious demand. It took Sam a few seconds to figure the gesture out - there was no fucking way Dean actually expected him to... oh who the fuck was he kidding, of course Dean did - but then, hesitantly, he placed his free hand in Dean's so his brother could cuff the other wrist as well.
Not for the first or last time, Sam cursed his over-developed sense of guilt. The whole Trey thing hadn't really, entirely been his fault and Dean was just milking this for all it was worth... But still, Dean's wolf had basically divorced him for a while there over the whole thing, and that, more than anything else, told Sam exactly how deeply he'd hurt his brother. Whatever was coming he could put up with it, for Dean.
Dean's hands disappeared behind him for a second and whatever Sam might have guessed, the very last thing he expected to see when Dean brought his hand back up was for him to be holding a tiny bullet vibrator for Sam's inspection. Dean was grinning so hard it looked like his jaw was going to crack and Sam hoped it hurt like a mother fucker because he was freaking right the hell out.
"Dean-"
The older Winchester's eyebrows shot up in warning and Sam faltered despite his better judgment. He felt the unspoken worry piling up in his throat like a wreck on the freeway - Dean was going to be really sorry if he choked to death on words.
"Relax baby, it's gonna be good," Dean promised, though the purr in his voice had Sam's instincts screaming at him to do the exact opposite. Or it might have been the way Dean was slicking up the vibrator with lube.
"Sure, after the third or fourth time I get you hard, it might hurt a little," his brother continued as if he was discussing the weather, "but I promise I'll make it worth it for you, make you love it so much when I finally shove my cock inside you. Bet you're gonna be so pretty begging for it, baby."
Sam couldn't help it anymore - guilt and kink and all the rest of it be damned - his body was telling him he needed to get the fuck away from Dean's plans right now and he was struggling against the cuffs for all he was worth. Then he couldn't have stopped squirming if he'd wanted to because Dean had just shoved the little vibe unceremoniously inside Sam and pumped it up on high.
"Shit! Dean, fuck!" he snarled incoherently between clenched teeth, trying pointlessly to move away from the strange movement inside his body.
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Dean 'tsk'ed mock-disappointedly, "What did I say about talking?"
Sam was too distracted by the vibrations humming low through his body - all the way up his goddamn spine - to pay much attention to anything Dean was talking about until there was suddenly something soft shoving at his lips. Sam's eyes shot open, head jerking back away from the ball of cloth Dean had pressed against his lips. He would have shouted at his brother but that would mean opening his mouth and that's exactly what Dean wanted. And what he was going to get anyway because now he was pressing his fingers bruising-hard into the hinge of Sam's jaw, forcing it apart.
The second Sam's lips parted he had a mouthful of soft fabric - silk? - and Dean better hope to God it was clean because sooner or later Sam was getting out of those damn cuffs and there was going to be hell to pay.
Dean grinned at him for a minute again, green eyes razor sharp, just fucking watching Sam writhe with no other choice but to take it however Dean wanted. He dragged two fingers across Sam's lips, pressing them against Sam’s teeth a little as a warning - and pain in the ass as it was, Sam took it, because he knew Dean would give him a much more effective gag if he tried to spit this one out - then pulled those fingers slowly down the length of Sam's body. He swiped them through the mess of drying come on Sam's stomach then skated them across his hip and lower to press at his hole again.
The digits slid in easy now, muscle overloaded by the vibrations and - fuckohfuckfuckfuckityfuckfuck! - Dean moved the vibrator, pushing it until it was right fucking THERE, lighting Sam on fire. It hurt too bad to be pleasure and felt too good to be pain. There wasn't a word, just feeling, just overwhelming tingling, twitching, too-much sensation and he was almost glad for the gag now because otherwise somebody at the motel would definitely have called the cops on them. Defying every rule of physics Sam knew, the feeling flashed more intense, hung there on a knifes edge for a lifetime or two and then blessedly Sam was coming, the warm shock of Dean's mouth sucking it all in.
Dean eased back with the vibrator but didn't take it out or turn it off. Sam flopped backward - he'd pulled so hard on his restraints he'd actually pulled the headboard away from the wall a bit - lax and spent, gasping like he was drowning. The wet fabric in his mouth slid out with a hiss and then Dean's lips covered Sam's. He opened for it instinctively, realizing too late what was happening as his own come pooled and bitter warm on his tongue.
The groan he pushed into Dean's mouth was echoed back at him hungrily, Dean keeping his lips right where they were until Sam swallowed. One of those humans-can't-make-that-sound growls rolled through Dean's chest, pressed into Sam's neck as Dean nipped none-too-gently at the skin around the collar. Sam just whimpered as his throbbing dick started to fill again. If anything the sound seemed to turn Dean on more, nips getting harder, more frantic alongside the slide of his brother's blood-rich cock riding the ridge of Sam’s hip, painting it wet with precome.
"You wanna go again Sammy," Dean panted, biting hard on the wing of bone at Sam's jaw, "Or you ready to take me now?" He thrust brutally against Sam's hip for emphasis.
That maddening vibration was still rocking against too sensitive flesh, and Sam's head was flooded with more feeling than a human being should be able to handle. He wanted the fucking cuffs off, wanted to curl up in a ball and not move for the next few months and he really really wanted Dean's balls to stop brushing teasingly the base of his sore dick before it made him come again. Instead he squeaked out through the thickness in his throat,
"Yes, fuck me. Yes."
Air flooded his lungs on a startled gasp as Dean practically ripped the vibrator out of Sam's body. Then breathing was just a fond memory as Dean's cock breached his opening in one long slow push. His brother didn't stop - the syrup-thick, vicious burn eating his nerve-endings alive - until Sam could feel Dean's tight sac resting against his ass, leaving both of them panting and shivering. Dean's arms were shaking so hard Sam was sure he was about to get a faceful of Dean's shoulder but his brother just clenched his eyes tight and held on, cheap sheets giving way under the force of his tensing fingers.
And Sam really needed him to hold on because - fuck - had there always been this much of Dean? It suddenly felt like his brother had a basketball pole for a dick and every last inch of it was simmering inside Sam as his muscles tried hopelessly to force out the intrusion.
"Fuck Sam," Dean breathed, voice ragged at the edges and not entirely human, "So tight. Didn't know - God! - didn't know it would feel this good. Would have made you do this before. Holding out on me, you prick."
Dean's hips slid backward so slowly that Sam's foot started spasm from the intensity that his toes curled. The burn was mellowing out to something honey-sweet and not quite not-pain but still so fucking good Sam’s teeth ached with it. Dean pushed home again just as slowly and white-hot sparks rode up Sam's skin as Dean brushed over his tormented sweet spot again. He groaned from it, hips lifting up to try and get more, get that feeling again, and Dean took it for the permission it was to just fucking go for it.
Dean's dick was rocketing in and out of Sam's body, flesh meeting flesh so hard Sam thought there were going to be bruises and oh that would suck in a couple of hours but right now if he had pom-poms he would fucking cheer. His fingers tightened on the chain of the cuffs, using the leverage to meet every brutal thrust of Dean's hips that was making headboard-shaped dents in the wall. Sam was being damn noisy now, but Dean was just goading it on, pushing harder, faster with every shout and some whisper-quiet part of Sam’s brain had him wondering if his body could handle what Dean was dishing out. He told it to shut the fuck up.
Broad hands tightened on Sam's ass, pulling him into every thrust and the change of angle rolled his eyes back so far in his head he wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to see again. The cuffs cut into wrists, the scent of blood mingling with sex and sweat in the air and Dean's growl rumbled down to Sam's marrow. It was all mixing together in perfect, stomach-churning pleasure and Sam couldn't do anything but take it and whimper and use his body to beg for more.
He tightened up around Dean and his brother turned into one heavy block of muscle and steel; stock still as Sam stared into Dean's eyes, saw the mirror-flash reflection he'd only ever known in them during the full moon. It was probably a testament to how deeply screwed up they were that impaled on his brother's cock, chained to the bed and begging for it, the thing that finally pushed Sam over the edge a third time was the molten shot of fear seeing Dean turn gave him.
Maybe Sam blacked out - God knows he’d made Dean do it before - or maybe his brain just couldn’t process that much feeling at once, but by the time something penetrated the raw thrum of bliss that had taken over his body, Sam had been released. He couldn't have been out long because Dean was still lapping at the abrasions on his wrists, nosing at the meat of Sam's palm and making these apologetic little whines that despite himself made Sam's exhausted dick twitch in half-hearted interest.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Dean whispered as he caught Sam's open eyes. He moved his hands up to Sam's neck - he'd unhooked the leash but not the collar apparently - before Sam caught him gently.
"Leave it," he rasped, stroking the backs of Dean's hands with his thumbs, "It's good. I like it." Dean leaned in close, touching his forehead to Sam's and nuzzling at him, green eyes nothing but Dean now. "I'm yours, you're mine," Sam continued, running a hand through his brother's sweat-soaked hair, "It works."
"Yeah," Dean sighed, voice still heavy with sated lust. They sat like that for several minutes, Sam warring between the need to get comfortable and sleep and fear of the hell it was going to be to move all of his abused muscles. "I kinda lost it for a minute there," Dean admitted softly, "Thought I could handle it."
"It's ok," Sam groaned, easing his body lower on the bed. Yeah, it was just as bad as he thought it would be. Tomorrow was going to suck ass. "You just need practice." He grinned at the undisguised shock on Dean's face - his brother had probably figured he'd never get to top again. "Maybe wait a few days," he winced turning over, "Or - heh - maybe a week, before we try that again, but you'll get there."
"You... you wanna..." Dean stumbled, knocking his supplies off onto the floor as he settled next to Sam.
"I'm still the alpha right?" He didn't really need an answer after the way Dean had been taking care of him, especially not with his brother curling protectively around him as they nestled in. As long as he didn't have to worry about losing control of Dean during the full moons, Sam figured he could handle a night like this once in awhile - in fact, if the deep, lazy satisfaction melting through him was anything to go by, he was probably going to develop a craving for it.
Dean made that weird little rumble that Sam had started mentally referring to as 'the purr'. It vibrated through his spine, slowly relaxing all of Sam's work-tensed muscles as Dean lapped soothingly at the back of his neck. Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.