Just Breathe 12b/?
Title: Just Breathe Chapter 12b/?
Author: JCRGIRL
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Wincest, underage
Word Count: 1,869
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
Summary: Dad is away and Sam falls ill leaving Dean to deal with a sick brother. Awkward Bedtimes and even awkwarder mornings?
Author Notes: Title from Faith Hill song. Also, as always completely unbeta-ed.
Once the immediate dangers had been taken care of, Dean and Zoe quit snarking and moved around each other for the rest of the night in not so much an easy manner, but a more civilized one. At least the older girl wasn’t slamming him into the walls anymore and Dean would take what he could get. Deciding to go to bed, he stood from the couch where he'd been watching an old horror movie and stretched his muscles. Even after four acetaminophen, his head still hurt like a bitch, but since death was the alternative…well, count your blessing and all that. Zoe went to one of the duffels that had been brought in and discarded near the foot of the couch. She produced a pair of black scrubs, like the ones Casey had left for him that morning holy shit! Was that only this morning?, and handed them to him.
“The pants should be comfortable enough to sleep in. We’ll get you some new clothes tomorrow.”
Dean nodded and took the soft clothes. Walking into the bedroom that he and Sam would be sharing, it was a conscious effort to move his exhaustion leadened feet with each step. He stripped quickly and tugged on the admittedly comfortable pants. Slipping under the covers next to his snoring brother, Dean laid on his back in case his sleep hungry brain decide to give him more fantasies of Sam sprawled next to him, wanton and willing. He tensed when Sam rolled into him and curled into his side, head resting on the meat of Dean’s shoulder and arm wrapping around his waist. Looking down at the slack face, Dean pressed a kiss to the top of his head and enclosed Sam in his arms.
Eyes closed against the morning light, Sam languidly stretched his long frame, bowing his back like a cat, smiling at the realization that not once did he wake to a chest splitting cough during the night. As his cheek muscles pulled the corners of his lips up, he felt his skin slide against something smoother and warmer than the pillowcase. Freezing, he reached out with his other senses to hear the familiar thrum of a heartbeat and smell the comforting aroma of leather and hair gel. Dean.
Sam laid there quietly, marveling at how natural it was to be in his brother’s arms. Slowly opening his eyes, he took in his brother’s unstressed features and his heart swelled at the sight. Dean huffed a breath causing his lips to puff out and part and Sam had to hold himself back from kissing them. Watching his brother appraisingly, Sam thought back to Casey’s slurred words the night before…you’ll get what you want. Sliding up slowly, Sam licked his lips, fortune favors the brave, and he lurched forward pressing his lips to Dean’s strawberry colored ones.
Ice shot down Sam’s spine followed immediately by boiling water to pool low in his stomach. Dean made a surprised noise and Sam pulled back to see hooded green eyes looking down at him in alarm. Rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, Sam tracked the slow slide of Dean’s tongue over his lips.
“Sam?”
“Yeah.”
Sam held his breath as Dean searched his face. Finding what he was seeking, Dean’s hand moved to Sam’s cheek, cupping it tenderly, and Sam surged forward. Their lips met again forcefully and Sam’s fingers fisted in the fabric of Dean’s pants just over his hip bone. Tongues tangling, Dean’s hand made a lazy trail from his neck to small of his back and pulled Sam flush to his body. Sam gasped into the kiss as tendrils of lust shot through his veins when the hard line of his brother’s erection pressed against his own. The hand on Dean’s hip opened and closed convulsively, catching skin and bone. He jerked Dean closer while rotating his hips forward, smirking when Dean inhaled sharply at the sensation and reached around to take Sam’s ass in his hands.
“I want-,” Sam panted around the kiss, fingers snaking between them to work at the ties holding up Dean’s pants.
“Yeah, Sam. Yeah.” Dean’s hands smoothed upward over the firm muscles of Sam’s ass until his palms rested on the small of Sam’s back. Sliding them back down, Dean spread his fingers and pressed them slightly in to the hard planes of muscle in Sam’s back feeling the fabric of Sam’s pants trail over the tops of the knuckles.
Frustrated, Sam yanked on the strings finally finally! feeling the bow give and pushed the cloth down over Dean’s hips, groaning as the hot, silky flesh of his brother’s cock brushed his arm in the process. Sucking on Dean’s bottom lip, Sam shoved his own pants and underwear down, pistoning his knees to remove them until both legs were free. There was no way he was letting Dean change his mind. Straightening on the bed, he felt Dean kick off his clothing. Sam’s fingers trailed up the outside of Dean’s thigh, crossed over his hip and wrapped around his cock. Sliding his hand slowly up and down, testing the weight and feel as well as Dean’s response, Sam already knew that this wasn’t going to be enough. He wanted more, Dean’s hands on him, around him, in him.
“Anything you want, Sammy,” Dean gasped as Sam’s hand tightened around his flesh in surprise. Shit, he’d said that out loud. Sam’s hand fell away when Dean rolled them, pressing him into the mattress. “Have you done this before?”
A blush stained Sam’s cheeks and he turned his head to the side giving Dean all the answer he needed. “Don’t worry, little brother. I’ll take care of you.”
Casting his hand out over the nightstand and then into the top drawer, Dean grinned wolfishly. A small bottle landed next to Sam’s shoulder and he had a moment to wonder why the hell Casey had lube in her bedroom, but quickly lost the train of thought when Dean latched on to his collarbone, nipping and sucking.
Oh, God. He moves two inches to the left and I’m gonna…OH GOD!
“Dean,” Sam cried out as his brother’s teeth scraped over the pulse point in his neck. His balls tightened, drawing close to his body.
Not yet! Battle of Gettysburg…July 1st through 3rd…turning point of the Civil War…51,000 dead…
“Oh, fuck!” All thought left Sam’s brain, back bowing off the bed, as Dean ran the flat of his tongue over his nipple. Even through the static now buzzing in his brain, Sam heard Dean’s smug snickering. Calloused palms blazed a path over his ribs for his lips to follow with open mouthed kisses. Sam hissed in pain as Dean’s hand pressed on the edges of his bruised side and Dean stilled, looking up at Sam’s face in concern. Cupping his hands around the back of Dean’s skull, Sam gently urged him on, unwilling to stop for anything short of death.
Dean’s hands and mouth made a teasingly slow path down as Sam mentally reviewed the Confederate battle plans for Pickett’s Charge to keep from losing control too soon. His torso completely lifted from the mattress when warm breaths ghosted down the side of his swollen cock followed by Dean’s nose nuzzling the base. Flopping back on the bed, he felt Dean’s tongue run up his length and swirl around the head. Lapping the bead of precome oozing from the slit, Dean parted his lips and took Sam deep into his mouth. Sam’s hips snapped up of their own volition and he bit on his knuckles to keep from shouting.
Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus.
Dean’s left arm came up to hold Sam’s gyrating pelvis down and he began a messy up and down rhythm, pulling grunts and stifled moans from his younger brother.
“Like that, baby boy?” Dean lifted his head to smirk at him. He started licking up Sam’s length, alternating between long, broad sweeps and small, kittenish ones. Cool, wet fingers skirted over Sam’s balls when the hell did he lube up? and moved further back. The sensation of Dean’s finger circling a place Sam thought no person would ever touch was startling and his whole body tensed.
“Relax, Sam. Trust me.” Dean applied a gentle pressure against Sam’s hole with the pad of his finger and waited until the muscle relaxed under it. Gently, he pushed the tip in to the first knuckle, moving it in and out in tiny increments to get Sam used to the feeling. Dean repeated the process over and over until not only was the first finger seated to the third knuckle but two more had joined it. He kept the pace maddeningly slow and each time he felt Sam tense around the intrusion, he would still his movements and go back to lavishing attention to Sam’s waning erection until the muscles relaxed and he once again stood full and hard.
Sam was writhing, his body on overload from his brother’s attention, see-sawing back and forth from fingers to mouth. He had to move past the Battle of Gettysburg to reciting soliloquys from Shakespeare plays to keep from exploding. That was until Dean twisted his wrist and curled his fingers inside Sam and everything exploded in burst of white light behind his clenched eyelids.
When his mind was able to comprehend anything beyond oh fuck so good so good, he realized that Dean’s fingers were gone. Panicking he opened his eyes to see his brother kneeling between his legs running a slick hand over his own erection. Using his clean hand he pushed Sam’s leg over, rolling him onto his side. Dean spooned up behind him, lifting Sam’s leg up and back to drape it over his thigh.
“Take a deep breath,” Dean whispered into his ear and Sam felt the blunt head against his opening. As he exhaled, Dean pushed forward.
Dean opened his eyes at Sam’s whimpering. Looking down he could see his little brother snug up next to him: head pillowed on his shoulder, arm wrapped around his waist and leg threaded through his. Arm tightening around Sam’s shoulders, preparing to wake him from whatever dream he was having, it was then he noticed that Sam’s hips were undulating against his leg.
Oh. Oh shit! Sam was having a good dream.
Deciding it was best to leave Sam to it alone, Dean tried to wiggle out from underneath him. As he moved, Sam’s arm and leg clamped down and the movement of his hips became faster and more erratic. Dean could feel parts of him get a little too interested and rapidly fill out to full thickness.
Stupid traitorous dick. This is bad. This is very, very bad.
Sam’s whimpers turned into throaty moans and Dean reached down to grab the base of his dick, but it was too late. One guttural groan later, Sam’s whole body shook and Dean felt the wetness spread through Sam’s clothing and his own. That was all it took and Dean followed, erupting hard and leaving him panting. Feeling Sam shift, starting to wake, Dean jerked out from underneath him and all but ran to the bathroom across the hall, absently seeing Casey and Zoe in the living room sipping coffee with matching confused looks.
Chapter 13
Author: JCRGIRL
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Wincest, underage
Word Count: 1,869
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
Summary: Dad is away and Sam falls ill leaving Dean to deal with a sick brother. Awkward Bedtimes and even awkwarder mornings?
Author Notes: Title from Faith Hill song. Also, as always completely unbeta-ed.
Once the immediate dangers had been taken care of, Dean and Zoe quit snarking and moved around each other for the rest of the night in not so much an easy manner, but a more civilized one. At least the older girl wasn’t slamming him into the walls anymore and Dean would take what he could get. Deciding to go to bed, he stood from the couch where he'd been watching an old horror movie and stretched his muscles. Even after four acetaminophen, his head still hurt like a bitch, but since death was the alternative…well, count your blessing and all that. Zoe went to one of the duffels that had been brought in and discarded near the foot of the couch. She produced a pair of black scrubs, like the ones Casey had left for him that morning holy shit! Was that only this morning?, and handed them to him.
“The pants should be comfortable enough to sleep in. We’ll get you some new clothes tomorrow.”
Dean nodded and took the soft clothes. Walking into the bedroom that he and Sam would be sharing, it was a conscious effort to move his exhaustion leadened feet with each step. He stripped quickly and tugged on the admittedly comfortable pants. Slipping under the covers next to his snoring brother, Dean laid on his back in case his sleep hungry brain decide to give him more fantasies of Sam sprawled next to him, wanton and willing. He tensed when Sam rolled into him and curled into his side, head resting on the meat of Dean’s shoulder and arm wrapping around his waist. Looking down at the slack face, Dean pressed a kiss to the top of his head and enclosed Sam in his arms.
Eyes closed against the morning light, Sam languidly stretched his long frame, bowing his back like a cat, smiling at the realization that not once did he wake to a chest splitting cough during the night. As his cheek muscles pulled the corners of his lips up, he felt his skin slide against something smoother and warmer than the pillowcase. Freezing, he reached out with his other senses to hear the familiar thrum of a heartbeat and smell the comforting aroma of leather and hair gel. Dean.
Sam laid there quietly, marveling at how natural it was to be in his brother’s arms. Slowly opening his eyes, he took in his brother’s unstressed features and his heart swelled at the sight. Dean huffed a breath causing his lips to puff out and part and Sam had to hold himself back from kissing them. Watching his brother appraisingly, Sam thought back to Casey’s slurred words the night before…you’ll get what you want. Sliding up slowly, Sam licked his lips, fortune favors the brave, and he lurched forward pressing his lips to Dean’s strawberry colored ones.
Ice shot down Sam’s spine followed immediately by boiling water to pool low in his stomach. Dean made a surprised noise and Sam pulled back to see hooded green eyes looking down at him in alarm. Rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, Sam tracked the slow slide of Dean’s tongue over his lips.
“Sam?”
“Yeah.”
Sam held his breath as Dean searched his face. Finding what he was seeking, Dean’s hand moved to Sam’s cheek, cupping it tenderly, and Sam surged forward. Their lips met again forcefully and Sam’s fingers fisted in the fabric of Dean’s pants just over his hip bone. Tongues tangling, Dean’s hand made a lazy trail from his neck to small of his back and pulled Sam flush to his body. Sam gasped into the kiss as tendrils of lust shot through his veins when the hard line of his brother’s erection pressed against his own. The hand on Dean’s hip opened and closed convulsively, catching skin and bone. He jerked Dean closer while rotating his hips forward, smirking when Dean inhaled sharply at the sensation and reached around to take Sam’s ass in his hands.
“I want-,” Sam panted around the kiss, fingers snaking between them to work at the ties holding up Dean’s pants.
“Yeah, Sam. Yeah.” Dean’s hands smoothed upward over the firm muscles of Sam’s ass until his palms rested on the small of Sam’s back. Sliding them back down, Dean spread his fingers and pressed them slightly in to the hard planes of muscle in Sam’s back feeling the fabric of Sam’s pants trail over the tops of the knuckles.
Frustrated, Sam yanked on the strings finally finally! feeling the bow give and pushed the cloth down over Dean’s hips, groaning as the hot, silky flesh of his brother’s cock brushed his arm in the process. Sucking on Dean’s bottom lip, Sam shoved his own pants and underwear down, pistoning his knees to remove them until both legs were free. There was no way he was letting Dean change his mind. Straightening on the bed, he felt Dean kick off his clothing. Sam’s fingers trailed up the outside of Dean’s thigh, crossed over his hip and wrapped around his cock. Sliding his hand slowly up and down, testing the weight and feel as well as Dean’s response, Sam already knew that this wasn’t going to be enough. He wanted more, Dean’s hands on him, around him, in him.
“Anything you want, Sammy,” Dean gasped as Sam’s hand tightened around his flesh in surprise. Shit, he’d said that out loud. Sam’s hand fell away when Dean rolled them, pressing him into the mattress. “Have you done this before?”
A blush stained Sam’s cheeks and he turned his head to the side giving Dean all the answer he needed. “Don’t worry, little brother. I’ll take care of you.”
Casting his hand out over the nightstand and then into the top drawer, Dean grinned wolfishly. A small bottle landed next to Sam’s shoulder and he had a moment to wonder why the hell Casey had lube in her bedroom, but quickly lost the train of thought when Dean latched on to his collarbone, nipping and sucking.
Oh, God. He moves two inches to the left and I’m gonna…OH GOD!
“Dean,” Sam cried out as his brother’s teeth scraped over the pulse point in his neck. His balls tightened, drawing close to his body.
Not yet! Battle of Gettysburg…July 1st through 3rd…turning point of the Civil War…51,000 dead…
“Oh, fuck!” All thought left Sam’s brain, back bowing off the bed, as Dean ran the flat of his tongue over his nipple. Even through the static now buzzing in his brain, Sam heard Dean’s smug snickering. Calloused palms blazed a path over his ribs for his lips to follow with open mouthed kisses. Sam hissed in pain as Dean’s hand pressed on the edges of his bruised side and Dean stilled, looking up at Sam’s face in concern. Cupping his hands around the back of Dean’s skull, Sam gently urged him on, unwilling to stop for anything short of death.
Dean’s hands and mouth made a teasingly slow path down as Sam mentally reviewed the Confederate battle plans for Pickett’s Charge to keep from losing control too soon. His torso completely lifted from the mattress when warm breaths ghosted down the side of his swollen cock followed by Dean’s nose nuzzling the base. Flopping back on the bed, he felt Dean’s tongue run up his length and swirl around the head. Lapping the bead of precome oozing from the slit, Dean parted his lips and took Sam deep into his mouth. Sam’s hips snapped up of their own volition and he bit on his knuckles to keep from shouting.
Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus.
Dean’s left arm came up to hold Sam’s gyrating pelvis down and he began a messy up and down rhythm, pulling grunts and stifled moans from his younger brother.
“Like that, baby boy?” Dean lifted his head to smirk at him. He started licking up Sam’s length, alternating between long, broad sweeps and small, kittenish ones. Cool, wet fingers skirted over Sam’s balls when the hell did he lube up? and moved further back. The sensation of Dean’s finger circling a place Sam thought no person would ever touch was startling and his whole body tensed.
“Relax, Sam. Trust me.” Dean applied a gentle pressure against Sam’s hole with the pad of his finger and waited until the muscle relaxed under it. Gently, he pushed the tip in to the first knuckle, moving it in and out in tiny increments to get Sam used to the feeling. Dean repeated the process over and over until not only was the first finger seated to the third knuckle but two more had joined it. He kept the pace maddeningly slow and each time he felt Sam tense around the intrusion, he would still his movements and go back to lavishing attention to Sam’s waning erection until the muscles relaxed and he once again stood full and hard.
Sam was writhing, his body on overload from his brother’s attention, see-sawing back and forth from fingers to mouth. He had to move past the Battle of Gettysburg to reciting soliloquys from Shakespeare plays to keep from exploding. That was until Dean twisted his wrist and curled his fingers inside Sam and everything exploded in burst of white light behind his clenched eyelids.
When his mind was able to comprehend anything beyond oh fuck so good so good, he realized that Dean’s fingers were gone. Panicking he opened his eyes to see his brother kneeling between his legs running a slick hand over his own erection. Using his clean hand he pushed Sam’s leg over, rolling him onto his side. Dean spooned up behind him, lifting Sam’s leg up and back to drape it over his thigh.
“Take a deep breath,” Dean whispered into his ear and Sam felt the blunt head against his opening. As he exhaled, Dean pushed forward.
Dean opened his eyes at Sam’s whimpering. Looking down he could see his little brother snug up next to him: head pillowed on his shoulder, arm wrapped around his waist and leg threaded through his. Arm tightening around Sam’s shoulders, preparing to wake him from whatever dream he was having, it was then he noticed that Sam’s hips were undulating against his leg.
Oh. Oh shit! Sam was having a good dream.
Deciding it was best to leave Sam to it alone, Dean tried to wiggle out from underneath him. As he moved, Sam’s arm and leg clamped down and the movement of his hips became faster and more erratic. Dean could feel parts of him get a little too interested and rapidly fill out to full thickness.
Stupid traitorous dick. This is bad. This is very, very bad.
Sam’s whimpers turned into throaty moans and Dean reached down to grab the base of his dick, but it was too late. One guttural groan later, Sam’s whole body shook and Dean felt the wetness spread through Sam’s clothing and his own. That was all it took and Dean followed, erupting hard and leaving him panting. Feeling Sam shift, starting to wake, Dean jerked out from underneath him and all but ran to the bathroom across the hall, absently seeing Casey and Zoe in the living room sipping coffee with matching confused looks.
Chapter 13