SPN fic: Alternate Versions (Dean/Sam NC-17)
Title: Alternate Versions
Author: chash
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Sam.
Rating: Uh. NC-17, I guess.
Warnings: Incestuous sex.
Word Count: ~2000 words
Summary: Alternate ending to 405; it turns out the shapeshifter likes Warhol's Dracula.
Notes: My dad, at one point, told me about Andy Warhol's Dracula adaptation, wherein Dracula must drink "blood of virgin" and therefore the vampire hunters go around having sex with all the virgins to save them from the vampire menace. And then I mentioned this to inarticulate and she enabled me. Also, this is actually my first porn. Which. Seems somehow fitting.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Dean has never been simultaneously happier and sadder to be a virgin.
Jamie is looking at him with this stunned disbelief, which is pretty awesome. It is pretty hard to believe a hot piece of ass like him has never had sex, but he hasn't. Well, not since he got his shiny new virgin body.
The shapeshifter looks at him, breaks character. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. I am 100 percent untouched bonafide virgin. Extra virgin, even. Like the olive oil."
Dracula is a pro at being a fucking psycho superfan, though, so he goes with it. "Then you must be my bride!"
Dean considers this. "Does that mean I get a costume change? Because, seriously, these things are chafing."
Dracula sweeps out and Jamie keeps gaping. "Seriously?"
Dean sighs. "It's a long story."
She shakes her head. "No wonder you're so desperate."
Dean resents that.
*
It's not Dean's first choice for a plan. He was hoping he was going to be stuck in a room with Jamie, but no, he's stuck alone, hanging around on a giant bed and trying to figure out if a gown beats lederhosen, until Sam comes in. To rescue him.
Well, beggars can't be choosers.
"Thank god you're here. Take off your pants!"
Sam cocks his head, boggles. Then he notices Dean's outfit. "My pants wouldn't fit you. And I still need to wear something. Hansel."
"Dude, I don't want to wear them! You need to have sex with me!"
Sam starts choking on nothing.
"We don't have time for this, Sammy! I've got a plan."
"Why does your plan involve me having sex with you?"
"Okay, so, he's doing Warhol Dracula."
Sam is still boggling. "And?"
"See, Warhol Dracula only drinks blood of virgins."
"So you..."
"I told him I was a virgin! To get him off Jamie's back. I was hoping he'd put us in here together so I could sleep with her, but you're gonna have to do. Now untie me and let's get down to it."
"Dean, why don't we just kill it?" asks Sam, but he's untying Dean anyway.
As soon as he's free, Dean gets his hands in Sam's shirt, keeping him close. "Dude, every time we go at it with a shapeshifter, we get our asses kicked for like half an hour before it gets killed. I dunno about you, but I kinda want an easy kill."
Sam rubs his face, not trying to escape but clearly pissed. "Dean. How is me having sex with you going to make this an easy kill."
"Because if Dracula drinks non-virgin blood he gets sick. So we have sex, I make him sick, boom. Easy kill, everybody wins. Come on," says Dean, going for whatever fastenings there are on whatever he's wearing."
"Everybody wins except for the gay incest sex."
"God, Sammy, don't be such a wet blanket. We don't have much time."
"Dea--"
Dean kisses him, because fucking hell, Sam doesn't shut up. And Sam's totally that guy who loves, like, foreplay, so kissing is probably necessary, and this is going to take forever.
Sam kind of meeps and then opens his mouth to try to protest, and Dean sticks his tongue in there. It's not the best kiss ever, but it's getting the job done while Dean works on Sam's pants.
"Dean," says Sam, but it comes out more like a moan than a protest, so Dean's winning. Which makes sense, because Dean is hot.
It doesn't get weird until Sam starting taking off Dean's shirt, because he's running his hands over Dean's shoulders, like he means it, and that's weird.
But Dean really needs to get rid of this virginity for his plan to work.
It's possible he should have been less attached to his plan, but it's really too late to be having second thoughts. Because Dean's dick doesn't seem to care that this is getting more personal than professional--Dean's dick is still really into the proceedings.
"I can't believe we're having sex in some psycho's fake Transylvanian lair," Dean says.
"But the fact that we're having sex, that's not weird at all," mutters Sam. His lips are on Dean's neck now, which is really not an integral part of having sex, but it seems to make Sam happy.
"Dude, less talking, more fucking. I don't want him walking in on us."
Sam shoves down Dean's boxers and pulls back, kind of taking Dean in with surprise. He fingers the handprint on Dean's shoulder, looking thoughtful. "How are you going to explain that to girls?"
"Bad fraternity pledge," says Dean instantly, and he thrusts his hips up, because they're in a hurry and he really needs to be getting off, like, now. "Come on, Sammy."
Sam licks his lips. "Do I actually need to, like. Um." He gestures with his hands. "Like. With you?"
It's a good thing Dean's fluent in Sam, because there isn't a coherent question in there. "Blowjobs aren't sex, Sam."
"Christ," Sam mutters. "This is your stupidest plan ever. And that includes the one that involved us going to prison."
"Will you just get your dick in my ass so we can kill this vampire?"
"Do you have, um," Sam fidgets, and it's kind of hilarious, Sam, completely naked, leaning over him, hard and fidgeting and blushing. Dean thinks laughing would probably be mean. "Stuff?"
Dean swears. "In my wallet, which is in my pants, which are god knows where. I'm doubting that the lederhosen came with lube."
Sam swears, and Dean sighs.
"God, do I have to do everything?" he asks, and grabs Sam's hand, sticking his fingers in his mouth. Sam makes this muffled surprised noise that turns into a groan, and Dean raises his eyebrow as he sucks.
"Shut up," Sam mutters.
Dean swirls his tongue around Sam's fingers one last time and then lets go with a wet pop. "It's okay, Sammy. I'm hot, I know it."
"I hate you so much," says Sam, resting his forehead on Dean's chest as he shoves Dean's legs up and drops his hand down. "Uh. Weren't you kind of...always a virgin? I mean. Here."
Dean groans as Sam slips his finger in, obviously trying to be careful, because he's Sam, and he cares way more about doing things right than doing things fast. "Sometime this century," he says. "And you know me, man, I'll try anything once. This, I tried a few more times than once."
Sam lets out a ragged laugh, but he speeds up, two fingers scissoring before Dean's entirely ready for it. And Sam, he's--Jesus Christ, he's not bad at this.
"I, um," says Sam, and if he tries to have a heart-to-heart about feelings right now, Dean is going to kill him. Dean thrusts up against his fingers, hoping that this makes his point for him. "I don't have a condom."
"For Christ sake, Sammy, there is no way in hell you've got anything I don't. Just fucking do it."
And for all Sam sucks at taking orders? He fucking does as he's told. Dean possibly whimpers, and Sam snickers, but it's a weird sound--somewhere between smug and desperate, and Sam's kissing his neck and thrusting hard and Dean is getting devirginized.
And then it gets really weird, because Sam's hand is fucking huge, and it's on Dean's dick, and Sam's whispering "You know, losing your virginity to your brother is sadder than taking your cousin to prom" all hot and dirty in his ear, and Dean comes, just like that.
It's fucking embarrassing.
Sam laughs, which doesn't help, because it's this weird sex laugh that Dean has--clearly--never heard before, and Sam's dick is still in his ass, and Dean wonders how having sex with Sam ever seemed like a good idea.
Except for the part where it's really hot. Jesus Christ. Dean whimpers again.
Sam is never going to let him live this down.
Sam comes a few thrusts later, biting down on Dean's neck as he does, and he's kind of glad his shiny new body has some marks on it, finally. All the clear skin was starting to confuse him. The hickeys should last him until he gets some real scars.
Sam pulls out and flops on the bed, looking fucked-out. "Jesus Christ," he says.
"I've got skills," says Dean, breathing raggedly.
"Brother-fucking skills," Sam points out.
"Fucking is fucking," Dean retorts. "And I'm awesome at it."
"I think you enjoyed it more than I did. So that means I'm awesome at it," Sam points out, yawning.
"I did not!" Dean protests. "Besides, topping is totally easier."
"All you had to do was lie there," Sam says. "I was doing all the work."
"Fuck you."
"You just did. Where's the vampire?"
"I dunno. I guess we could go find him. Make him bite my neck til he's sick."
"Mm," agrees Sam. He's--fuck no. He's trying to cuddle. Of course Sam would get tired and snuggly after sex. Because Sam is a girl.
With a cock.
That was just in Dean's ass.
Dean might have to reassess Sam's masculinity.
"Sam!" he says, poking Sam's bare shoulder. Sam's nose is in his armpit. It's disgusting. "We have a job to do!"
"In the morning, Dean," Sam mutters, wrapping his arms around Dean's stomach like this is some kind of normal activity after gay incest.
"Do you want that girl to get killed?"
Sam considers this, raising his head and looking perturbed. "You can't have sex with her now, you know."
Dean groans. "God, you're going to be cockblocking me all the fucking time now."
"This was your idea. So we could kill a vampire who we lost."
Dean considers this. It's kind of a fair point.
"Come on, we gotta go find him."
Dean tries to stand up, discovers his legs are pretty much jelly, and falls over.
Sam falls back on the bed, laughing his ass off.
Dean's trying to drag himself to his feet, which is, naturally, when the shapeshifter comes in.
He mostly looks confused. Which, Dean thinks, is pretty much fair. After all, he and Sam are naked, covered in hickeys, and Dean's in an awkward pile on the floor while Sam laughs at him from the bed.
"Am I...interrupting something?" asks the shapeshifter, in his retarded accent.
Sam starts rooting around for his pants.
"I didn't want to be your immortal bride," says Dean finally. "Nothing personal, just, you know. I'm not really in a place in my life where I can be an immortal bride."
The shapeshifter stares at him some more. Dean hopes he's appreciating how hot he is, and wishing Dean would be his immortal bride. Anyone would be lucky to have Dean for an immortal bride.
"It's not you," says Dean, "it's me."
Sam finds his pants, pulls out his gun, and shoots the thing.
"I can't believe you gave that speech."
"I can't believe I had sex with you for nothing."
"At least you're not a twenty-nine-year-old virgin anymore," Sam points out.
That does help a little. Dean roots around for his lederhosen.
"Even if it is really sad," Sam adds. "Losing your virginity to your brother."
"Shut the fuck up," says Dean.
Author: chash
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Sam.
Rating: Uh. NC-17, I guess.
Warnings: Incestuous sex.
Word Count: ~2000 words
Summary: Alternate ending to 405; it turns out the shapeshifter likes Warhol's Dracula.
Notes: My dad, at one point, told me about Andy Warhol's Dracula adaptation, wherein Dracula must drink "blood of virgin" and therefore the vampire hunters go around having sex with all the virgins to save them from the vampire menace. And then I mentioned this to inarticulate and she enabled me. Also, this is actually my first porn. Which. Seems somehow fitting.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Dean has never been simultaneously happier and sadder to be a virgin.
Jamie is looking at him with this stunned disbelief, which is pretty awesome. It is pretty hard to believe a hot piece of ass like him has never had sex, but he hasn't. Well, not since he got his shiny new virgin body.
The shapeshifter looks at him, breaks character. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. I am 100 percent untouched bonafide virgin. Extra virgin, even. Like the olive oil."
Dracula is a pro at being a fucking psycho superfan, though, so he goes with it. "Then you must be my bride!"
Dean considers this. "Does that mean I get a costume change? Because, seriously, these things are chafing."
Dracula sweeps out and Jamie keeps gaping. "Seriously?"
Dean sighs. "It's a long story."
She shakes her head. "No wonder you're so desperate."
Dean resents that.
*
It's not Dean's first choice for a plan. He was hoping he was going to be stuck in a room with Jamie, but no, he's stuck alone, hanging around on a giant bed and trying to figure out if a gown beats lederhosen, until Sam comes in. To rescue him.
Well, beggars can't be choosers.
"Thank god you're here. Take off your pants!"
Sam cocks his head, boggles. Then he notices Dean's outfit. "My pants wouldn't fit you. And I still need to wear something. Hansel."
"Dude, I don't want to wear them! You need to have sex with me!"
Sam starts choking on nothing.
"We don't have time for this, Sammy! I've got a plan."
"Why does your plan involve me having sex with you?"
"Okay, so, he's doing Warhol Dracula."
Sam is still boggling. "And?"
"See, Warhol Dracula only drinks blood of virgins."
"So you..."
"I told him I was a virgin! To get him off Jamie's back. I was hoping he'd put us in here together so I could sleep with her, but you're gonna have to do. Now untie me and let's get down to it."
"Dean, why don't we just kill it?" asks Sam, but he's untying Dean anyway.
As soon as he's free, Dean gets his hands in Sam's shirt, keeping him close. "Dude, every time we go at it with a shapeshifter, we get our asses kicked for like half an hour before it gets killed. I dunno about you, but I kinda want an easy kill."
Sam rubs his face, not trying to escape but clearly pissed. "Dean. How is me having sex with you going to make this an easy kill."
"Because if Dracula drinks non-virgin blood he gets sick. So we have sex, I make him sick, boom. Easy kill, everybody wins. Come on," says Dean, going for whatever fastenings there are on whatever he's wearing."
"Everybody wins except for the gay incest sex."
"God, Sammy, don't be such a wet blanket. We don't have much time."
"Dea--"
Dean kisses him, because fucking hell, Sam doesn't shut up. And Sam's totally that guy who loves, like, foreplay, so kissing is probably necessary, and this is going to take forever.
Sam kind of meeps and then opens his mouth to try to protest, and Dean sticks his tongue in there. It's not the best kiss ever, but it's getting the job done while Dean works on Sam's pants.
"Dean," says Sam, but it comes out more like a moan than a protest, so Dean's winning. Which makes sense, because Dean is hot.
It doesn't get weird until Sam starting taking off Dean's shirt, because he's running his hands over Dean's shoulders, like he means it, and that's weird.
But Dean really needs to get rid of this virginity for his plan to work.
It's possible he should have been less attached to his plan, but it's really too late to be having second thoughts. Because Dean's dick doesn't seem to care that this is getting more personal than professional--Dean's dick is still really into the proceedings.
"I can't believe we're having sex in some psycho's fake Transylvanian lair," Dean says.
"But the fact that we're having sex, that's not weird at all," mutters Sam. His lips are on Dean's neck now, which is really not an integral part of having sex, but it seems to make Sam happy.
"Dude, less talking, more fucking. I don't want him walking in on us."
Sam shoves down Dean's boxers and pulls back, kind of taking Dean in with surprise. He fingers the handprint on Dean's shoulder, looking thoughtful. "How are you going to explain that to girls?"
"Bad fraternity pledge," says Dean instantly, and he thrusts his hips up, because they're in a hurry and he really needs to be getting off, like, now. "Come on, Sammy."
Sam licks his lips. "Do I actually need to, like. Um." He gestures with his hands. "Like. With you?"
It's a good thing Dean's fluent in Sam, because there isn't a coherent question in there. "Blowjobs aren't sex, Sam."
"Christ," Sam mutters. "This is your stupidest plan ever. And that includes the one that involved us going to prison."
"Will you just get your dick in my ass so we can kill this vampire?"
"Do you have, um," Sam fidgets, and it's kind of hilarious, Sam, completely naked, leaning over him, hard and fidgeting and blushing. Dean thinks laughing would probably be mean. "Stuff?"
Dean swears. "In my wallet, which is in my pants, which are god knows where. I'm doubting that the lederhosen came with lube."
Sam swears, and Dean sighs.
"God, do I have to do everything?" he asks, and grabs Sam's hand, sticking his fingers in his mouth. Sam makes this muffled surprised noise that turns into a groan, and Dean raises his eyebrow as he sucks.
"Shut up," Sam mutters.
Dean swirls his tongue around Sam's fingers one last time and then lets go with a wet pop. "It's okay, Sammy. I'm hot, I know it."
"I hate you so much," says Sam, resting his forehead on Dean's chest as he shoves Dean's legs up and drops his hand down. "Uh. Weren't you kind of...always a virgin? I mean. Here."
Dean groans as Sam slips his finger in, obviously trying to be careful, because he's Sam, and he cares way more about doing things right than doing things fast. "Sometime this century," he says. "And you know me, man, I'll try anything once. This, I tried a few more times than once."
Sam lets out a ragged laugh, but he speeds up, two fingers scissoring before Dean's entirely ready for it. And Sam, he's--Jesus Christ, he's not bad at this.
"I, um," says Sam, and if he tries to have a heart-to-heart about feelings right now, Dean is going to kill him. Dean thrusts up against his fingers, hoping that this makes his point for him. "I don't have a condom."
"For Christ sake, Sammy, there is no way in hell you've got anything I don't. Just fucking do it."
And for all Sam sucks at taking orders? He fucking does as he's told. Dean possibly whimpers, and Sam snickers, but it's a weird sound--somewhere between smug and desperate, and Sam's kissing his neck and thrusting hard and Dean is getting devirginized.
And then it gets really weird, because Sam's hand is fucking huge, and it's on Dean's dick, and Sam's whispering "You know, losing your virginity to your brother is sadder than taking your cousin to prom" all hot and dirty in his ear, and Dean comes, just like that.
It's fucking embarrassing.
Sam laughs, which doesn't help, because it's this weird sex laugh that Dean has--clearly--never heard before, and Sam's dick is still in his ass, and Dean wonders how having sex with Sam ever seemed like a good idea.
Except for the part where it's really hot. Jesus Christ. Dean whimpers again.
Sam is never going to let him live this down.
Sam comes a few thrusts later, biting down on Dean's neck as he does, and he's kind of glad his shiny new body has some marks on it, finally. All the clear skin was starting to confuse him. The hickeys should last him until he gets some real scars.
Sam pulls out and flops on the bed, looking fucked-out. "Jesus Christ," he says.
"I've got skills," says Dean, breathing raggedly.
"Brother-fucking skills," Sam points out.
"Fucking is fucking," Dean retorts. "And I'm awesome at it."
"I think you enjoyed it more than I did. So that means I'm awesome at it," Sam points out, yawning.
"I did not!" Dean protests. "Besides, topping is totally easier."
"All you had to do was lie there," Sam says. "I was doing all the work."
"Fuck you."
"You just did. Where's the vampire?"
"I dunno. I guess we could go find him. Make him bite my neck til he's sick."
"Mm," agrees Sam. He's--fuck no. He's trying to cuddle. Of course Sam would get tired and snuggly after sex. Because Sam is a girl.
With a cock.
That was just in Dean's ass.
Dean might have to reassess Sam's masculinity.
"Sam!" he says, poking Sam's bare shoulder. Sam's nose is in his armpit. It's disgusting. "We have a job to do!"
"In the morning, Dean," Sam mutters, wrapping his arms around Dean's stomach like this is some kind of normal activity after gay incest.
"Do you want that girl to get killed?"
Sam considers this, raising his head and looking perturbed. "You can't have sex with her now, you know."
Dean groans. "God, you're going to be cockblocking me all the fucking time now."
"This was your idea. So we could kill a vampire who we lost."
Dean considers this. It's kind of a fair point.
"Come on, we gotta go find him."
Dean tries to stand up, discovers his legs are pretty much jelly, and falls over.
Sam falls back on the bed, laughing his ass off.
Dean's trying to drag himself to his feet, which is, naturally, when the shapeshifter comes in.
He mostly looks confused. Which, Dean thinks, is pretty much fair. After all, he and Sam are naked, covered in hickeys, and Dean's in an awkward pile on the floor while Sam laughs at him from the bed.
"Am I...interrupting something?" asks the shapeshifter, in his retarded accent.
Sam starts rooting around for his pants.
"I didn't want to be your immortal bride," says Dean finally. "Nothing personal, just, you know. I'm not really in a place in my life where I can be an immortal bride."
The shapeshifter stares at him some more. Dean hopes he's appreciating how hot he is, and wishing Dean would be his immortal bride. Anyone would be lucky to have Dean for an immortal bride.
"It's not you," says Dean, "it's me."
Sam finds his pants, pulls out his gun, and shoots the thing.
"I can't believe you gave that speech."
"I can't believe I had sex with you for nothing."
"At least you're not a twenty-nine-year-old virgin anymore," Sam points out.
That does help a little. Dean roots around for his lederhosen.
"Even if it is really sad," Sam adds. "Losing your virginity to your brother."
"Shut the fuck up," says Dean.