Switched [Sam/Dean, NC-17]
Title: Switched
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1386
Summary/Notes: Originally posted here for the blindfold_spn prompt: As a result of a witch's curse, Sam and Dean have switched dicks. When Sam touches himself, Dean feels it and vice versa. Dean is trying to masturbate, and can't understand why he can't feel anything when he touches himself. Meanwhile, Sam doesn't understand why he's suddenly getting so horny in public.
ETA: There is now a sequel to this fic here.
Dean doesn't think much of it at first. When they get back to the motel after dealing with the witch, Sam goes out to get dinner and Dean jumps in the shower. He gives his dick a few perfunctory strokes when he soaps himself up, and when it fails to get much of a reaction, he chalks it up to exhaustion and moves on.
When he gets out of the shower, he runs a towel over himself haphazardly, making sure he's mostly dry before getting dressed and stepping out into the room. Sam's standing near the door with a bag of take out in his hand. He has a vaguely uncomfortable look on his face.
Dean raises an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing," Sam says, shaking his head a little. He passes the food to Dean before heading into the bathroom for his own shower, and Dean barely gets the last bite of his hamburger swallowed before he passes out on the bed.
Dean wakes up in the morning to a note from Sam saying he's gone to the library. Dean has no interest in the library and not much else to do, so it doesn't take long for him to get bored. Within half an hour he's stripped completely naked and sprawled out on the bed, and he doesn't waste time before getting down to business.
Anticipation curls in his belly as he runs a hand down his stomach and wraps it around his cock. He gives it a few strokes, and it hardens up in his hand. He can feel the blood from the rest of his body rushing there and arousal pooling in his gut, but--he can't feel his hand on his cock. Almost like it's numb, but--not. It's just there, not registering Dean's hand wrapped around it. It's the same as the night before, but now he doesn't have the excuse of being too exhausted to appreciate jerking off.
Dean props himself up on an elbow and stares down at his dick suspiciously. He grips it tighter in his fist, giving it a good hard squeeze that he should definitely be able to feel, and strokes, digging his thumb in at the slit when he reaches the head.
And still, nothing.
Dean keeps jacking himself, his movements growing more furious when he fails to get the result he's after. His cock is stiff and red, glistening where precome wells up at the tip and drips onto his stomach, but no matter how hard he grips or how fast his hand moves, he can't feel it. His breath hitches as alarm starts to spread through his chest. His dick gets harder and flushes darker, his hand glides over it easily, slick with precome. Dean can tell he should be enjoying it from the way his cock is twitching, but he only feels vaguely aroused, and even that's starting to fade because something is so seriously fucking wrong right now, and--
Dean hears the door fly open and startles, stilling his hand. When he looks up, the door is already closed again, and Sam's leaning back against it, breathing heavily. He looks at Dean, wide-eyed and clearly aroused. Usually Dean wouldn't care if Sam wanted to stand there watching, but now is not really the time because--
"Something is wrong with my dick." Dean's too freaked out to be embarrassed. He gives it a rough tug, twisting his hand around, and Sam lets out a gasp. Dean glares at him, but Sam continues to stare like a total perv who clearly doesn't understand the gravity of the situation.
Then Sam swiftly undoes his jeans and shoves a hand in, and what the fuck. Dean is seriously going to kick his ass--but that's when Dean's cock decides to wake up. He can actually feel his hand on it, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. Sam mutters something and starts walking toward the bed without even taking his hand out of his pants, and Dean gives him a distracted glance.
"Stop touching yourself," Sam says. Dean gives him an unimpressed look and grips his cock tighter, as if in defiance. Sam stumbles a little, and Dean lets out a huff of laughter. Sam rolls his eyes as he sits on the bed and grabs Dean's arm, pulling his hand away from his erection.
"Hey," Dean complains, indignant, and tries to shake Sam off. Sam keeps hold of his arm as he pulls his own cock out, stroking it. Dean jerks and looks down at his own erection. Nobody's touching him, but he can feel a hand there, pulling at him.
Sam gives Dean's cock a scrutinizing look. "That's what I thought."
"What the fuck," Dean says.
"I could feel it," Sam says. "When you were jerking off. Like you were touching me. And when I--" he nods down at his hand, moving in a rhythm Dean can feel on his own cock--where there is no hand. And yeah, that would explain why the witch looked so amused even as they destroyed her altar and took her books of spells and rituals, then.
Before Dean can get properly angry, Sam is leaning over him and taking Dean's cock into his mouth. He keeps stroking himself as he does it, and Dean decides it's pretty weird watching Sam suck him off and feeling a hand gripped firmly around him instead of a mouth. Dean closes his eyes briefly and tries not to think about the logistics of it.
Sam is really getting into the blowjob, mouth all sloppy and wet as he breathes harshly through his nose and makes satisfied noises. He is apparently having a really good time essentially sucking himself off, and heat pools in Dean's belly at the thought of Sam being so desperate for his own cock. Sam's still working his hand over his erection, and Dean thrusts without thinking. Sam makes a choking noise but doesn't seem deterred; he barely pulls off long enough to catch his breath before sliding his mouth back down.
Dean's happy to leave him to it and enjoy the show, but after a few minutes Sam kind of forgets all about his own cock to focus on Dean's. This wouldn't normally be a problem, but normally Dean can actually feel his cock.
"Dammit, Sam." Dean pushes at Sam's head to get his attention. Sam pulls back, panting, and stands up, hastily getting out of his clothes. Before Dean has time to do much of anything, Sam is back on the bed, pushing Dean onto his side and settling down next to him before taking Dean back into his mouth. Now Sam's hard cock is positioned right in front of Dean's face, and he doesn't need any more prompting than that before he swallows it down.
He digs his tongue into the slit, and his--or Sam's--dick twitches, spurting out precome. Dean runs his tongue around the head, using the perfect amount of suction, applying just the right amount of pressure with his grip at the base of Sam's dick. It's weird but awesome to be sucking Sam and feeling it all himself, and it soon turns into a hazy loop of pleasure; Dean's only focus is on Sam's dick and the way it feels when he works his mouth over it. It doesn't take long for him to get close, and he pulls back but keeps his hand moving steadily over Sam. Dean thrusts his hips as his orgasm hits, and warm come splashes over his chin and chest. He works his hand on Sam's dick until he's too sensitive to take any more, then he collapses back onto the bed, panting.
It takes Dean a second to realize that Sam's mouth isn't on him any more. Sam is lying next to him, breathing steadily, and Dean must have come without even realizing it. Sam leans up on an elbow and looks down at Dean.
"So, that was kind of hot," he says. Dean snorts in amusement, and Sam flicks his leg. "But we're gonna have to figure out a way to fix this."
Dean hums in vague agreement, but he's distracted, looking at Sam's cock. He wonders what it would feel like to fuck himself.
He plans to find out.
Continue on to Still Switched
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1386
Summary/Notes: Originally posted here for the blindfold_spn prompt: As a result of a witch's curse, Sam and Dean have switched dicks. When Sam touches himself, Dean feels it and vice versa. Dean is trying to masturbate, and can't understand why he can't feel anything when he touches himself. Meanwhile, Sam doesn't understand why he's suddenly getting so horny in public.
ETA: There is now a sequel to this fic here.
Dean doesn't think much of it at first. When they get back to the motel after dealing with the witch, Sam goes out to get dinner and Dean jumps in the shower. He gives his dick a few perfunctory strokes when he soaps himself up, and when it fails to get much of a reaction, he chalks it up to exhaustion and moves on.
When he gets out of the shower, he runs a towel over himself haphazardly, making sure he's mostly dry before getting dressed and stepping out into the room. Sam's standing near the door with a bag of take out in his hand. He has a vaguely uncomfortable look on his face.
Dean raises an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing," Sam says, shaking his head a little. He passes the food to Dean before heading into the bathroom for his own shower, and Dean barely gets the last bite of his hamburger swallowed before he passes out on the bed.
Dean wakes up in the morning to a note from Sam saying he's gone to the library. Dean has no interest in the library and not much else to do, so it doesn't take long for him to get bored. Within half an hour he's stripped completely naked and sprawled out on the bed, and he doesn't waste time before getting down to business.
Anticipation curls in his belly as he runs a hand down his stomach and wraps it around his cock. He gives it a few strokes, and it hardens up in his hand. He can feel the blood from the rest of his body rushing there and arousal pooling in his gut, but--he can't feel his hand on his cock. Almost like it's numb, but--not. It's just there, not registering Dean's hand wrapped around it. It's the same as the night before, but now he doesn't have the excuse of being too exhausted to appreciate jerking off.
Dean props himself up on an elbow and stares down at his dick suspiciously. He grips it tighter in his fist, giving it a good hard squeeze that he should definitely be able to feel, and strokes, digging his thumb in at the slit when he reaches the head.
And still, nothing.
Dean keeps jacking himself, his movements growing more furious when he fails to get the result he's after. His cock is stiff and red, glistening where precome wells up at the tip and drips onto his stomach, but no matter how hard he grips or how fast his hand moves, he can't feel it. His breath hitches as alarm starts to spread through his chest. His dick gets harder and flushes darker, his hand glides over it easily, slick with precome. Dean can tell he should be enjoying it from the way his cock is twitching, but he only feels vaguely aroused, and even that's starting to fade because something is so seriously fucking wrong right now, and--
Dean hears the door fly open and startles, stilling his hand. When he looks up, the door is already closed again, and Sam's leaning back against it, breathing heavily. He looks at Dean, wide-eyed and clearly aroused. Usually Dean wouldn't care if Sam wanted to stand there watching, but now is not really the time because--
"Something is wrong with my dick." Dean's too freaked out to be embarrassed. He gives it a rough tug, twisting his hand around, and Sam lets out a gasp. Dean glares at him, but Sam continues to stare like a total perv who clearly doesn't understand the gravity of the situation.
Then Sam swiftly undoes his jeans and shoves a hand in, and what the fuck. Dean is seriously going to kick his ass--but that's when Dean's cock decides to wake up. He can actually feel his hand on it, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. Sam mutters something and starts walking toward the bed without even taking his hand out of his pants, and Dean gives him a distracted glance.
"Stop touching yourself," Sam says. Dean gives him an unimpressed look and grips his cock tighter, as if in defiance. Sam stumbles a little, and Dean lets out a huff of laughter. Sam rolls his eyes as he sits on the bed and grabs Dean's arm, pulling his hand away from his erection.
"Hey," Dean complains, indignant, and tries to shake Sam off. Sam keeps hold of his arm as he pulls his own cock out, stroking it. Dean jerks and looks down at his own erection. Nobody's touching him, but he can feel a hand there, pulling at him.
Sam gives Dean's cock a scrutinizing look. "That's what I thought."
"What the fuck," Dean says.
"I could feel it," Sam says. "When you were jerking off. Like you were touching me. And when I--" he nods down at his hand, moving in a rhythm Dean can feel on his own cock--where there is no hand. And yeah, that would explain why the witch looked so amused even as they destroyed her altar and took her books of spells and rituals, then.
Before Dean can get properly angry, Sam is leaning over him and taking Dean's cock into his mouth. He keeps stroking himself as he does it, and Dean decides it's pretty weird watching Sam suck him off and feeling a hand gripped firmly around him instead of a mouth. Dean closes his eyes briefly and tries not to think about the logistics of it.
Sam is really getting into the blowjob, mouth all sloppy and wet as he breathes harshly through his nose and makes satisfied noises. He is apparently having a really good time essentially sucking himself off, and heat pools in Dean's belly at the thought of Sam being so desperate for his own cock. Sam's still working his hand over his erection, and Dean thrusts without thinking. Sam makes a choking noise but doesn't seem deterred; he barely pulls off long enough to catch his breath before sliding his mouth back down.
Dean's happy to leave him to it and enjoy the show, but after a few minutes Sam kind of forgets all about his own cock to focus on Dean's. This wouldn't normally be a problem, but normally Dean can actually feel his cock.
"Dammit, Sam." Dean pushes at Sam's head to get his attention. Sam pulls back, panting, and stands up, hastily getting out of his clothes. Before Dean has time to do much of anything, Sam is back on the bed, pushing Dean onto his side and settling down next to him before taking Dean back into his mouth. Now Sam's hard cock is positioned right in front of Dean's face, and he doesn't need any more prompting than that before he swallows it down.
He digs his tongue into the slit, and his--or Sam's--dick twitches, spurting out precome. Dean runs his tongue around the head, using the perfect amount of suction, applying just the right amount of pressure with his grip at the base of Sam's dick. It's weird but awesome to be sucking Sam and feeling it all himself, and it soon turns into a hazy loop of pleasure; Dean's only focus is on Sam's dick and the way it feels when he works his mouth over it. It doesn't take long for him to get close, and he pulls back but keeps his hand moving steadily over Sam. Dean thrusts his hips as his orgasm hits, and warm come splashes over his chin and chest. He works his hand on Sam's dick until he's too sensitive to take any more, then he collapses back onto the bed, panting.
It takes Dean a second to realize that Sam's mouth isn't on him any more. Sam is lying next to him, breathing steadily, and Dean must have come without even realizing it. Sam leans up on an elbow and looks down at Dean.
"So, that was kind of hot," he says. Dean snorts in amusement, and Sam flicks his leg. "But we're gonna have to figure out a way to fix this."
Dean hums in vague agreement, but he's distracted, looking at Sam's cock. He wonders what it would feel like to fuck himself.
He plans to find out.
Continue on to Still Switched