My Brother's Keeper, Part 4, Supernatual NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Four( Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 060 Thirst
Word Count: 2427
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, blood play, bondage. Evil-ness abounds
This is my twenty-third ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
There was a buzzing in his ears…the kind that came when he’d had a bit too much to drink, but he’d only had the one beer. He lay, sprawled out on the king size bed, exhausted. He’d lost count of the hours…and the number of times he’d come at Sam’s hands or mouth…or that one time, just his voice and breath…Dean had never been so sated as he was at that moment.
Sam lay, his head on Dean’s stomach, cataloguing the numerous scars on Dean’s chest. “This one?” he asked as he pressed his lips against a spot just below his right nipple.
“Gun shot.” Dean replied lazily, his hand swiping over the place. “Well…it was…I was twelve, and I was lucky.” He had been lucky the bullet had torn through a wall before it hit him, lucky his father knew how to drive, lucky all the way around.
“I don’t know if that’s exactly luck.”
Sam’s fingers continued their exploration, finding yet another mark, tracing it out slowly. “This?”
Dean had to think about it. “Um, shovel, I think. No, that this one.” His fingers marked a thin line a few inches from the one Sam fingered. “Knife.”
Sam sat up enough to look at his face. “No one is this accident prone.” Dean only smiled in return.
“Rough neighborhood.”
“Okay, this one?” Sam’s hand found their way south, to a scar that ran from his navel , off to his right hip. It was thin and scarcely visible, but sensitive fingers marked it easily enough.
Dean inhaled sharply. That one he didn’t like to talk about. “Demon.” He said it without thinking, without realizing he had.
“Did you say demon?” Sam asked.
Fuck. Dean shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I did. This guy…thought he was a demon. Sliced up a bunch of people. I got in his way.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked pain.” Sam rolled up so that he was partially across Dean’s chest. “I think maybe you like experiences that leave a mark on you.”
Dean’s sharp, shuddering intake of breath was the only response, and Sam’s smile was slow, wicked. “Do you Dean? Do you enjoy a little pain? A little blood?”
Damn but his cock was perking up. Again. “Do you?” Sam demanded, his hands sliding up Dean’s arms, pinning him in place.
“Yeah…sort of…” Dean’s voice was breathy, nervous. Sam licked a long line up from his navel to his chin before moving to straddle him, his hands circling Dean’s wrists. Dean struggled against him, but more for show than in an actual attempt to escape. He was too wiped out to give it honest effort…and while he thought that should frighten him, he was too distracted by Sam’s lips on his to pay attention.
There was a soft snick of a sound and Sam’s hands slid down Dean’s, leaving Dean with his hands above his head. “Mine…all mine…” Sam murmured as he ground his hips against Dean’s, rubbing his naked cock along Dean’s and damn if it didn’t work at getting hard again.
“Sam.” Dean groaned. “I can’t…no more…”
“Yes you can, baby…trust me…I haven’t begun to push you yet.”
Dean tried to move his arms to push Sam away and only then realized that soft snick had been the sound of handcuffs. “Sam.” His voice was dark, almost pained.
Sam’s finger came up to press against Dean’s lips. “Shh…Don’t make me have to gag that pretty mouth.”
Dean pulled his head up with effort, starring down at the bigger man who was kissing his way down to Dean’s half-hard cock. Dean jumped as his tongue slid over the super sensitive skin. Sam smiled at the reaction, wrapping a large hand…too hard…too rough…around him and stroking while he moved, nudging Dean’s legs apart. Dean hissed and bucked his hips, half to get away from the rough hand, half to try to stroke himself to hardness in Sam’s hand.
“Easy…let me…” Sam whispered, letting go of him to move his legs further apart, positioning himself, his cock hard and leaking. “Damn, Dean…you look so fucking hot…” There was no need for lube, not when Dean’s ass was still open from their last go round and Sam wasted no time with prep before slamming himself up inside of him, making Dean cry out. “I should keep you right here….never let you go.”
Sam kissed him then, his mouth devouring, his tongue invading Dean’s mouth hard and hot and Dean whimpered when he pulled away. Sam thrust into him, deep and stopped, holding himself inside Dean’s ass as he turned Dean’s face so that he was looking into his eyes. “Mine?”
Dean nodded, biting his lip…beyond words. Something cold slid across his shoulder…cold, then sharp and Dean hissed inward as Sam moved slowly out of him, then just as violently back inside, holding again as he dragged the knife over Dean’s skin. Sam held the knife so that the point was in the center of Dean’s chest, his fingers sliding lovingly over the handle. “Mine?” he asked again and Dean felt his skin erupt in fire all around the point…fire that shot through him and into his groin.
“Yeah…yeah…fuck…”
Sam thrust a little deeper, his eyes intent on Dean’s face. “Say it Dean.”
“Fuck.”
Sam smiled, but it was dark. “Say it Dean.”
“I’m yours Sam. Please.”
“Please what Dean?”
Dean’s head was swimming. He couldn’t say it…couldn’t….fuck. Sam moved again, three rough thrusts into his already well-fucked ass and then, slowly, on his upstroke, dragged the point of the knife over Dean’s skin. “Please what?”
“Fuck Sam….fuck…”
“Already doing that baby…what else?” The point bit in just a little and Dean could hear tiny guttural sounds escaping him.
His cock was pressed between them, on fire and desperate, pain and pleasure and intensity he had never felt. He panted and pulled on his hands, frantic to touch…to push or pull or anything for more…”Tell me, Dean.” Sam’s voice was low, soft, commanding.
Fuck…Dean hitched his hips under him, pressing his cock against the pan of muscle that was Sam’s stomach. Sam pulled out of him and slammed in again, hard, harder than before and Dean saw stars. “Tell me what you want.”
“Cut…cut me.” Dean gasped out finally. “Fuck, cut me…I need…”
Sam slid the knife over the plane of Dean’s stomach, all flat and tip and flat and tip up over his nipples. Dean whimpered as Sam fucked him slowly, leaving long white stripes from the knife. “Say it again.”
“Fuck…Sam….Sammy, cut me….”
Then the blade was on the tender skin of his arm, Sam’s lips on his ear. “Come for me Dean…bleed for me…” The blade sliced across his bicep and Dean arched up off the bed, his cock screaming in pain and release as he came again. Sam’s lips wandered to the bleeding wound, his tongue licking the thin line as he fucked Dean slowly “Taste so fucking good…could just drink you forever…”
“Sam…god…”
Sam pushed Dean’s legs up, and picked up his pace, sweat dripping off him onto Dean’s chest as he pulled Dean by the hips onto him. Dean could hear tiny sounds, whimpering moans and on some level was aware they were coming from him. He didn’t think he could take much more. Then Sam shoved in and shuddered, coming deep inside him and for a moment Dean felt more filled, more comforted, more…home than he could remember. Then Sam was collapsing beside him, kissing him obscenely. “I have it on pretty good authority, that god has nothing to do with it,” he whispered, sliding hands up to undo the cuffs.
“Sam…I…”
“Shh…baby…sleep.” His hands slid over Dean’s eyes, down his cheeks and lips. “Sleep…you’ve earned it.” Dean murmured unintelligibly and drifted, sated beyond anything he’d ever felt, his body heavy and pulling him under.
When he was good and out, Sam sighed and climbed out of the bed, padding over to the door and opening it with a smile. An older man, broad shouldered and slightly gray at the temples slid into the room, his eyes scanning over Dean’s sleeping form. “Don’t worry…he won’t be awake for a few hours.”
“Did you get what you wanted?”
Sam smiled and turned to look at his prize. “Not yet…but I’m nearly there. He let me cut him. It won’t be long now.”
The man nodded and turned to look at Sam. “Good. The sooner the better. I don’t like this little seduction game you’ve got going.”
Sam laughed. “You don’t have to do you. He does.” The way he emphasized the word he made the other man pale.
“Take a shower. You smell like sex.”
“Maybe you should try it some time.” Sam said with a grin.
“Just get results.”
“I always do, Dad.” As the door closed behind him, Sam smiled and poured himself a shot of Jack. “I always do.”
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Four( Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 060 Thirst
Word Count: 2427
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, blood play, bondage. Evil-ness abounds
This is my twenty-third ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
There was a buzzing in his ears…the kind that came when he’d had a bit too much to drink, but he’d only had the one beer. He lay, sprawled out on the king size bed, exhausted. He’d lost count of the hours…and the number of times he’d come at Sam’s hands or mouth…or that one time, just his voice and breath…Dean had never been so sated as he was at that moment.
Sam lay, his head on Dean’s stomach, cataloguing the numerous scars on Dean’s chest. “This one?” he asked as he pressed his lips against a spot just below his right nipple.
“Gun shot.” Dean replied lazily, his hand swiping over the place. “Well…it was…I was twelve, and I was lucky.” He had been lucky the bullet had torn through a wall before it hit him, lucky his father knew how to drive, lucky all the way around.
“I don’t know if that’s exactly luck.”
Sam’s fingers continued their exploration, finding yet another mark, tracing it out slowly. “This?”
Dean had to think about it. “Um, shovel, I think. No, that this one.” His fingers marked a thin line a few inches from the one Sam fingered. “Knife.”
Sam sat up enough to look at his face. “No one is this accident prone.” Dean only smiled in return.
“Rough neighborhood.”
“Okay, this one?” Sam’s hand found their way south, to a scar that ran from his navel , off to his right hip. It was thin and scarcely visible, but sensitive fingers marked it easily enough.
Dean inhaled sharply. That one he didn’t like to talk about. “Demon.” He said it without thinking, without realizing he had.
“Did you say demon?” Sam asked.
Fuck. Dean shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I did. This guy…thought he was a demon. Sliced up a bunch of people. I got in his way.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked pain.” Sam rolled up so that he was partially across Dean’s chest. “I think maybe you like experiences that leave a mark on you.”
Dean’s sharp, shuddering intake of breath was the only response, and Sam’s smile was slow, wicked. “Do you Dean? Do you enjoy a little pain? A little blood?”
Damn but his cock was perking up. Again. “Do you?” Sam demanded, his hands sliding up Dean’s arms, pinning him in place.
“Yeah…sort of…” Dean’s voice was breathy, nervous. Sam licked a long line up from his navel to his chin before moving to straddle him, his hands circling Dean’s wrists. Dean struggled against him, but more for show than in an actual attempt to escape. He was too wiped out to give it honest effort…and while he thought that should frighten him, he was too distracted by Sam’s lips on his to pay attention.
There was a soft snick of a sound and Sam’s hands slid down Dean’s, leaving Dean with his hands above his head. “Mine…all mine…” Sam murmured as he ground his hips against Dean’s, rubbing his naked cock along Dean’s and damn if it didn’t work at getting hard again.
“Sam.” Dean groaned. “I can’t…no more…”
“Yes you can, baby…trust me…I haven’t begun to push you yet.”
Dean tried to move his arms to push Sam away and only then realized that soft snick had been the sound of handcuffs. “Sam.” His voice was dark, almost pained.
Sam’s finger came up to press against Dean’s lips. “Shh…Don’t make me have to gag that pretty mouth.”
Dean pulled his head up with effort, starring down at the bigger man who was kissing his way down to Dean’s half-hard cock. Dean jumped as his tongue slid over the super sensitive skin. Sam smiled at the reaction, wrapping a large hand…too hard…too rough…around him and stroking while he moved, nudging Dean’s legs apart. Dean hissed and bucked his hips, half to get away from the rough hand, half to try to stroke himself to hardness in Sam’s hand.
“Easy…let me…” Sam whispered, letting go of him to move his legs further apart, positioning himself, his cock hard and leaking. “Damn, Dean…you look so fucking hot…” There was no need for lube, not when Dean’s ass was still open from their last go round and Sam wasted no time with prep before slamming himself up inside of him, making Dean cry out. “I should keep you right here….never let you go.”
Sam kissed him then, his mouth devouring, his tongue invading Dean’s mouth hard and hot and Dean whimpered when he pulled away. Sam thrust into him, deep and stopped, holding himself inside Dean’s ass as he turned Dean’s face so that he was looking into his eyes. “Mine?”
Dean nodded, biting his lip…beyond words. Something cold slid across his shoulder…cold, then sharp and Dean hissed inward as Sam moved slowly out of him, then just as violently back inside, holding again as he dragged the knife over Dean’s skin. Sam held the knife so that the point was in the center of Dean’s chest, his fingers sliding lovingly over the handle. “Mine?” he asked again and Dean felt his skin erupt in fire all around the point…fire that shot through him and into his groin.
“Yeah…yeah…fuck…”
Sam thrust a little deeper, his eyes intent on Dean’s face. “Say it Dean.”
“Fuck.”
Sam smiled, but it was dark. “Say it Dean.”
“I’m yours Sam. Please.”
“Please what Dean?”
Dean’s head was swimming. He couldn’t say it…couldn’t….fuck. Sam moved again, three rough thrusts into his already well-fucked ass and then, slowly, on his upstroke, dragged the point of the knife over Dean’s skin. “Please what?”
“Fuck Sam….fuck…”
“Already doing that baby…what else?” The point bit in just a little and Dean could hear tiny guttural sounds escaping him.
His cock was pressed between them, on fire and desperate, pain and pleasure and intensity he had never felt. He panted and pulled on his hands, frantic to touch…to push or pull or anything for more…”Tell me, Dean.” Sam’s voice was low, soft, commanding.
Fuck…Dean hitched his hips under him, pressing his cock against the pan of muscle that was Sam’s stomach. Sam pulled out of him and slammed in again, hard, harder than before and Dean saw stars. “Tell me what you want.”
“Cut…cut me.” Dean gasped out finally. “Fuck, cut me…I need…”
Sam slid the knife over the plane of Dean’s stomach, all flat and tip and flat and tip up over his nipples. Dean whimpered as Sam fucked him slowly, leaving long white stripes from the knife. “Say it again.”
“Fuck…Sam….Sammy, cut me….”
Then the blade was on the tender skin of his arm, Sam’s lips on his ear. “Come for me Dean…bleed for me…” The blade sliced across his bicep and Dean arched up off the bed, his cock screaming in pain and release as he came again. Sam’s lips wandered to the bleeding wound, his tongue licking the thin line as he fucked Dean slowly “Taste so fucking good…could just drink you forever…”
“Sam…god…”
Sam pushed Dean’s legs up, and picked up his pace, sweat dripping off him onto Dean’s chest as he pulled Dean by the hips onto him. Dean could hear tiny sounds, whimpering moans and on some level was aware they were coming from him. He didn’t think he could take much more. Then Sam shoved in and shuddered, coming deep inside him and for a moment Dean felt more filled, more comforted, more…home than he could remember. Then Sam was collapsing beside him, kissing him obscenely. “I have it on pretty good authority, that god has nothing to do with it,” he whispered, sliding hands up to undo the cuffs.
“Sam…I…”
“Shh…baby…sleep.” His hands slid over Dean’s eyes, down his cheeks and lips. “Sleep…you’ve earned it.” Dean murmured unintelligibly and drifted, sated beyond anything he’d ever felt, his body heavy and pulling him under.
When he was good and out, Sam sighed and climbed out of the bed, padding over to the door and opening it with a smile. An older man, broad shouldered and slightly gray at the temples slid into the room, his eyes scanning over Dean’s sleeping form. “Don’t worry…he won’t be awake for a few hours.”
“Did you get what you wanted?”
Sam smiled and turned to look at his prize. “Not yet…but I’m nearly there. He let me cut him. It won’t be long now.”
The man nodded and turned to look at Sam. “Good. The sooner the better. I don’t like this little seduction game you’ve got going.”
Sam laughed. “You don’t have to do you. He does.” The way he emphasized the word he made the other man pale.
“Take a shower. You smell like sex.”
“Maybe you should try it some time.” Sam said with a grin.
“Just get results.”
“I always do, Dad.” As the door closed behind him, Sam smiled and poured himself a shot of Jack. “I always do.”