My Brother's Keeper, Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: My Brother's Keeper
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 069 Come
Word Count: 1627
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Incest, m/m sex. If I continue this, there will be BDSM, probably blood play. This piece is pretty much about the sex though.
This is my nineteenth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
Palo Alto, California
Dean drags himself out of the cemetery, covered in dirt and blood and grime that only comes after a particular kind of kill. It had been grisly and he was tired, but kind of wired and the thing that had once been a Stanford football player was not coming back out of that grave any time soon. There was a certain satisfaction at that. He’d never liked jocks all that much and the guy had looked a little like Bobby Brennen, the bully who’d made that last year of school Dean’s last year of school.
The Impala is a welcome sight, and he props up the trunk to drop in the shotgun and shovel and dig around for a clean shirt, stripping out of the grime coated one and tossing it in beside a bottle of holy water and a pair of brass knuckles.
He was half way to the campus when it struck him that what he really needed was a drink, something stiff and bracing and then maybe he something sweet and blond and curvy.
It’s a college town, which means college bars, but that could mean cheerleaders, and Dean may not be much for jocks, but cheerleaders are a different story, so he finds a parking spot in an alley a few blocks down from some joint called Perry’s, sniff checks the shirt and rummages in the glove box for the bottle of cheap after shave that his father left behind the last time he’d seen him. A quick check of the rear view mirror and he was good to go.
Perry’s is a lot like every other college bar, filled with pretentious yuppie-babies spending Daddy’s money and arguing about whatever deep meaningful topic was the latest in thing, jocks competing at the dart boards and pool tables, and the spattering of patrons just trying to ignore everyone else. Dean made his way to the bar and snagged a stool beside a pretty brunette and waited for the bar tender to notice him.
He smiled at the girl, but she rolled her eyes and turned away, her eyes tracking one of the big bruisers at the pool table in the corner. “Don’t mind her, she’s only got eyes for Bubba there,” a voice said beside him.
Dean turned slowly. “Bubba?”
Beside him a tall guy with too much hair and puppy dog eyes grinned and shrugged. “Or you know, Billy Bob…whatever.”
The grin was blinding and Dean found himself smiling back. “Yeah, whatever. Jocks.”
The other guy laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Thank you. Apparently I am the only guy in Stanford who doesn’t care about the whole football thing.”
“College boy, huh?” Dean sat back and regarded him. He was obviously younger, but taller with impossibly large hands that caught his eye as he held one of them out to him.
“Sorry, I’m Sam.”
Dean smiled again and accepted the hand, clearing his throat as it’s warmth enveloped him. “Dean…I’m Dean.”
“What are you drinking Dean? I’m buying.”
“No, you don’t have to-“
“A consolation.” Sam inclined his head at the brunette who was ignoring them both. Dean looked over his shoulder, then back at Sam, who he was beginning to think was actually prettier than the girl.
“Okay, beer.”
Sam waved the bartender over. “A beer for my friend, and I think…a shot of whiskey. I’ll have the same. Put it on my tab.”
“You have a tab?” Sam shrugged. “I come here a lot. He knows I’m good for it.”
Dean picked up the shot as it was delivered and held it aloft. “To being good for it,” he said with a smirk.
Sam picked up his own shot and leaned in closer. “To being good at it.”
Dean nearly choked as he swallowed, the fire burning deep as the whiskey slid down his throat. Sam laughed and patted his back, already waving the bar tender back for more as he downed half his beer.
“So, Dean. Tell me…what brings you into my favorite bar on the last night of school.” Sam said after two more shots, his feet planted on either side of Dean’s stool, effectively capturing Dean’s legs between his.
Dean frowned a little and shrugged. “Just wandering by. Wasn’t ready to go back to the hotel after…work.”
Sam leaned in, holding his beer between them. “And what is work for you?”
“Doesn’t matter…it was brutal though.”
“Around here?”
“Hmm?” Dean had to lean in to hear him over the noise by the pool tables. Sam’s eyes are dark green and smoky, and don’t seem entirely focused. “What?”
“Your work…is it around here?”
“It was tonight. I move around a lot.”
Sam nods and raises his beer, clipping Dean on the chin. “Oh, man, sorry. I-“ But Dean’s laughing and wiping his own beer from his jeans and Sam cracks up too.
“You are a light-weight.” Dean said, setting his beer aside.
“No…no I’m not.” Sam downs the last of his last shot and shakes his finger at Dean. “I was here for hours before you got here.”
Dean laughs. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the drinks. I should probably go before I’m too shitfaced to get back to the motel.”
“No. Stay. “ Sam’s large hand is on his arm and it burns. Dean feels his cock twitch, hardening from just that touch. Sam’s smile is blinding, like he can see it already. He’s in Dean’s space now, his face near Dean’s ear. “Or take me with you.”
Dean swallows hard as that hand moves from his arm to his cock, cupping him through the denim. “Damn.” Its been a long time. He’s moving for the door, not even caring that Sam’s hand is still between his legs or that people might see. Outside the night air embraces them and Sam is pulling him, turning them, pressing Dean against the wall and moving in slowly toward his face.
His lips are as hot as his hands, and softer than Dean thinks should be possible and before he knows what he’s down, his mouth is open and Sam’s tongue is chasing the air to his lungs. Big hands on his face. Dean groans as Sam’s feet kick his legs apart and starts massaging his groin with a knee. “Fuck!”
“If you insist.” Sam says with a smile, pulling back just enough that Dean can see him as more than the fuzzy face glued to his.
“My car…” Dean pulls him toward the alley, toward the Impala.
The alley swallows them and Sam tangles them together again, twisting them around until Dean feels the bumper at his knees and his body is against the hood. Sam’s hands are already fighting with his fly and when Dean tries to help, he bats his hands away. There’s something dark and possessive in Sam’s eyes as he unzips Dean and in one motion has his cock out and in his mouth. “Fuck!” Dean’s head bangs on the Impala’s hood as Sam swallows around him, his hands moving to pull Dean’s jeans down.
This guy has one talented tongue and Dean’s thrusting already, so close to coming when Sam sucks up and off and stood there looking at him. “What?”
“You have the most beautiful cock.” Sam grins, his hand closing around it. “It tastes incredible.”
“So why’d you stop?” Dean half sits, pressing his elbows against the hood.
Sam is leaning over him, his lips pulling on Dean’s. “Because I have rules, Dean.”
Dean swallows and pulls back. “Huh?”
“Don’t worry…I won’t hurt you.” Sam’s hand is stroking him and his lips are nipping over his neck. Dean’s sure he should be concerned, should be worried…but its hot and he’s so close and all he wants is to feel that tongue again. “I just have simple rules about sex.” Sam’s teeth scraped over Dean’s neck and he whimpered in a very unmanly way. “I’ll make you feel so good.”
“God…yes…Sam…”
“Say it again.” Sam’s voice is all demanding and harsh and it makes Dean’s cock jump.
“Sam.”
He smiles against Dean’s throat and then he’s sliding away, his mouth closing over Dean’s twitching cock and his tongue sliding over the veiny underside. “I want this Dean.” His balls are in one of those big hands and Dean is fairly sure he’s lost the ability to speak coherently. “Will you give it to me?”
“Uhgh…fuck…” His thumb is moving over the slit, rubbing pre-cum around the head and Dean thrusts up. “Sam.”
Sam nips at his lips again. “Tell me Dean.”
“Yes,…anything…fuck…”
Sam’s smile was predatory as he whispered, “Good boy,” and engulfed Dean’s cock. Dean thrust upward uncontrollably, his hands grasping for something, anything and finding only the Impala’s hood until one of Sam’s hands twines around his. “Come for me Dean…I want to watch you come.”
And he does, arching up off of the car, even though Sam’s only holding his hand and his cum spurts in a high arc. When Sam lays his head on Dean’s stomach and catch’s the stream in his mouth on its decent, Dean’s cock manages to shoot a second time and he blanks out.
“Damn.”
“I’ll say.” Sam hasn’t moved, his fingers twined around Dean’s, his head on Dean’s stomach. Dean feels exposed with his cock still hanging out near Sam’s shoulder and his jeans around his knees, but doesn’t feel pressed to get up. Not until Sam stirs. “Get dressed, Dean. We’re going back to your hotel.”
And Dean does get up and pulls up his pants and gets in the car with Sam to head back to his hotel. And maybe he thinks that should be strange…but he finds all he can think about is the chance to return the favor.
Title: My Brother's Keeper
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 069 Come
Word Count: 1627
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Incest, m/m sex. If I continue this, there will be BDSM, probably blood play. This piece is pretty much about the sex though.
This is my nineteenth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
Palo Alto, California
Dean drags himself out of the cemetery, covered in dirt and blood and grime that only comes after a particular kind of kill. It had been grisly and he was tired, but kind of wired and the thing that had once been a Stanford football player was not coming back out of that grave any time soon. There was a certain satisfaction at that. He’d never liked jocks all that much and the guy had looked a little like Bobby Brennen, the bully who’d made that last year of school Dean’s last year of school.
The Impala is a welcome sight, and he props up the trunk to drop in the shotgun and shovel and dig around for a clean shirt, stripping out of the grime coated one and tossing it in beside a bottle of holy water and a pair of brass knuckles.
He was half way to the campus when it struck him that what he really needed was a drink, something stiff and bracing and then maybe he something sweet and blond and curvy.
It’s a college town, which means college bars, but that could mean cheerleaders, and Dean may not be much for jocks, but cheerleaders are a different story, so he finds a parking spot in an alley a few blocks down from some joint called Perry’s, sniff checks the shirt and rummages in the glove box for the bottle of cheap after shave that his father left behind the last time he’d seen him. A quick check of the rear view mirror and he was good to go.
Perry’s is a lot like every other college bar, filled with pretentious yuppie-babies spending Daddy’s money and arguing about whatever deep meaningful topic was the latest in thing, jocks competing at the dart boards and pool tables, and the spattering of patrons just trying to ignore everyone else. Dean made his way to the bar and snagged a stool beside a pretty brunette and waited for the bar tender to notice him.
He smiled at the girl, but she rolled her eyes and turned away, her eyes tracking one of the big bruisers at the pool table in the corner. “Don’t mind her, she’s only got eyes for Bubba there,” a voice said beside him.
Dean turned slowly. “Bubba?”
Beside him a tall guy with too much hair and puppy dog eyes grinned and shrugged. “Or you know, Billy Bob…whatever.”
The grin was blinding and Dean found himself smiling back. “Yeah, whatever. Jocks.”
The other guy laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Thank you. Apparently I am the only guy in Stanford who doesn’t care about the whole football thing.”
“College boy, huh?” Dean sat back and regarded him. He was obviously younger, but taller with impossibly large hands that caught his eye as he held one of them out to him.
“Sorry, I’m Sam.”
Dean smiled again and accepted the hand, clearing his throat as it’s warmth enveloped him. “Dean…I’m Dean.”
“What are you drinking Dean? I’m buying.”
“No, you don’t have to-“
“A consolation.” Sam inclined his head at the brunette who was ignoring them both. Dean looked over his shoulder, then back at Sam, who he was beginning to think was actually prettier than the girl.
“Okay, beer.”
Sam waved the bartender over. “A beer for my friend, and I think…a shot of whiskey. I’ll have the same. Put it on my tab.”
“You have a tab?” Sam shrugged. “I come here a lot. He knows I’m good for it.”
Dean picked up the shot as it was delivered and held it aloft. “To being good for it,” he said with a smirk.
Sam picked up his own shot and leaned in closer. “To being good at it.”
Dean nearly choked as he swallowed, the fire burning deep as the whiskey slid down his throat. Sam laughed and patted his back, already waving the bar tender back for more as he downed half his beer.
“So, Dean. Tell me…what brings you into my favorite bar on the last night of school.” Sam said after two more shots, his feet planted on either side of Dean’s stool, effectively capturing Dean’s legs between his.
Dean frowned a little and shrugged. “Just wandering by. Wasn’t ready to go back to the hotel after…work.”
Sam leaned in, holding his beer between them. “And what is work for you?”
“Doesn’t matter…it was brutal though.”
“Around here?”
“Hmm?” Dean had to lean in to hear him over the noise by the pool tables. Sam’s eyes are dark green and smoky, and don’t seem entirely focused. “What?”
“Your work…is it around here?”
“It was tonight. I move around a lot.”
Sam nods and raises his beer, clipping Dean on the chin. “Oh, man, sorry. I-“ But Dean’s laughing and wiping his own beer from his jeans and Sam cracks up too.
“You are a light-weight.” Dean said, setting his beer aside.
“No…no I’m not.” Sam downs the last of his last shot and shakes his finger at Dean. “I was here for hours before you got here.”
Dean laughs. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the drinks. I should probably go before I’m too shitfaced to get back to the motel.”
“No. Stay. “ Sam’s large hand is on his arm and it burns. Dean feels his cock twitch, hardening from just that touch. Sam’s smile is blinding, like he can see it already. He’s in Dean’s space now, his face near Dean’s ear. “Or take me with you.”
Dean swallows hard as that hand moves from his arm to his cock, cupping him through the denim. “Damn.” Its been a long time. He’s moving for the door, not even caring that Sam’s hand is still between his legs or that people might see. Outside the night air embraces them and Sam is pulling him, turning them, pressing Dean against the wall and moving in slowly toward his face.
His lips are as hot as his hands, and softer than Dean thinks should be possible and before he knows what he’s down, his mouth is open and Sam’s tongue is chasing the air to his lungs. Big hands on his face. Dean groans as Sam’s feet kick his legs apart and starts massaging his groin with a knee. “Fuck!”
“If you insist.” Sam says with a smile, pulling back just enough that Dean can see him as more than the fuzzy face glued to his.
“My car…” Dean pulls him toward the alley, toward the Impala.
The alley swallows them and Sam tangles them together again, twisting them around until Dean feels the bumper at his knees and his body is against the hood. Sam’s hands are already fighting with his fly and when Dean tries to help, he bats his hands away. There’s something dark and possessive in Sam’s eyes as he unzips Dean and in one motion has his cock out and in his mouth. “Fuck!” Dean’s head bangs on the Impala’s hood as Sam swallows around him, his hands moving to pull Dean’s jeans down.
This guy has one talented tongue and Dean’s thrusting already, so close to coming when Sam sucks up and off and stood there looking at him. “What?”
“You have the most beautiful cock.” Sam grins, his hand closing around it. “It tastes incredible.”
“So why’d you stop?” Dean half sits, pressing his elbows against the hood.
Sam is leaning over him, his lips pulling on Dean’s. “Because I have rules, Dean.”
Dean swallows and pulls back. “Huh?”
“Don’t worry…I won’t hurt you.” Sam’s hand is stroking him and his lips are nipping over his neck. Dean’s sure he should be concerned, should be worried…but its hot and he’s so close and all he wants is to feel that tongue again. “I just have simple rules about sex.” Sam’s teeth scraped over Dean’s neck and he whimpered in a very unmanly way. “I’ll make you feel so good.”
“God…yes…Sam…”
“Say it again.” Sam’s voice is all demanding and harsh and it makes Dean’s cock jump.
“Sam.”
He smiles against Dean’s throat and then he’s sliding away, his mouth closing over Dean’s twitching cock and his tongue sliding over the veiny underside. “I want this Dean.” His balls are in one of those big hands and Dean is fairly sure he’s lost the ability to speak coherently. “Will you give it to me?”
“Uhgh…fuck…” His thumb is moving over the slit, rubbing pre-cum around the head and Dean thrusts up. “Sam.”
Sam nips at his lips again. “Tell me Dean.”
“Yes,…anything…fuck…”
Sam’s smile was predatory as he whispered, “Good boy,” and engulfed Dean’s cock. Dean thrust upward uncontrollably, his hands grasping for something, anything and finding only the Impala’s hood until one of Sam’s hands twines around his. “Come for me Dean…I want to watch you come.”
And he does, arching up off of the car, even though Sam’s only holding his hand and his cum spurts in a high arc. When Sam lays his head on Dean’s stomach and catch’s the stream in his mouth on its decent, Dean’s cock manages to shoot a second time and he blanks out.
“Damn.”
“I’ll say.” Sam hasn’t moved, his fingers twined around Dean’s, his head on Dean’s stomach. Dean feels exposed with his cock still hanging out near Sam’s shoulder and his jeans around his knees, but doesn’t feel pressed to get up. Not until Sam stirs. “Get dressed, Dean. We’re going back to your hotel.”
And Dean does get up and pulls up his pants and gets in the car with Sam to head back to his hotel. And maybe he thinks that should be strange…but he finds all he can think about is the chance to return the favor.