Fic: Wiggle And Twitch (Sam/Dean, NC-17, Kink!)
Title: Wiggle And Twitch
Author: Vera
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys or Supernatural or anything at all, really. Kudos to Eric Kripke.
Spoilers: AHBL 1, kinda, but I’m going AU with powers and this is pretty PWP, so you can read it without having seen the ep.
Summary: Dean finds himself in a familiar situation: Gagged and tied to a chair.
Author’s Note: Happy Birthday, aelfsiden!
Dean couldn’t believe it. He was tied to a fucking chair. Again. This time with cuffs instead of rope, but that didn’t freakin’ matter! And to make it all worse, he couldn’t even bitch about it, because he was gagged as well. Go figure. So all his muttered curses came out as jumbled groans.
But since nobody was even in the room with him, Dean gave up after a while and just receded to quietly trying to get rid of the cuffs. He really wished he wore his jacket instead of just a simple black tee. He could have shaken out a paper clip. Or at least one of his hidden knives. He sighed and checked his surroundings more closely, looking for clues as to where he was and who had left him here. Oddly enough he seemed to be in a cheap motel room instead of an abandoned warehouse or any other kind of remote location.
There was a large bag lying on the double bed, but before he had time to wonder what might be in it, the door suddenly burst open and his brother entered. Dean let out a relieved sigh, or what would have passed for it without the gag, and started moving again, struggling against the cuffs to make sure Sam would open them.
As soon as Sam had pushed the gag down around his neck, Dean started cussing. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch. This just sucks.” He made a face, looking at his brother. “Dude, that gag tasted aweful.” He spat but then frowned, realizing Sam wasn’t making a move to uncuff him. “Okay, any day now, Sammy.” He gave him a look and rolled his eyes when Sam finally moved behind him.
Dean could feel Sam’s hands around his and anxiously waited to get out of the chair, when the hands were just gone again and Sam knelt down next to him.
“You know, I don’t think I will uncuff you just yet.”
”What?” Dean’s mouth opened in shock. “And why the hell not, smart ass?” Was he planning a trap with him as bait? Without knowing details, Dean was convinced that it was a stupid plan.
Sam smirked. “Because I’ve only just tied you up, so where would be the point?”
Dean’s face fell and he just stared at his brother for a moment. “You didn’t.”
”Oh yes, I did.” Sam’s smirk turned into a grin and Dean tugged against the restraints violently, wanting nothing more than to wipe that grin off of his brother’s face. “But don’t worry,” Sam continued. “I’m gonna release you. As soon as I am done with you.” He winked and placed his hands on Dean’s thighs.
Dean swallowed. Dammit if those hands didn’t always manage to distract him. He cocked his head, wagering his options. So either Sam had gotten possessed again or this was turning into some kind of kinky sex game. Or he was a shapeshifter. Dean shuddered at the thought. Man, he hated those things.
But before he could ponder on, Sam was suddenly in his lap, fusing his lips to his own. ‘Alright’, Dean thought with a smirk. ‘Kinky sex game it is.’ He responded to the kiss eagerly, opening his lips when Sam’s tongue demanded entrance. Although it might just still be a demon. Or a shapeshifter… But nah, this definitely felt like Sam.
As their tongues duelled, Dean itched to wrap his arms around his lover, to press him closer or just thread his fingers through Sam’s shaggy hair. He tugged against the cuffs and groaned against Sam’s lips. The kiss stopped.
“You know, this would be more fun if you’d unshackle me already.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows promisingly.
“Yeah…” Sam laughed. “I don’t think so.” He leaned in for another kiss but then pulled away right before their lips could actually touch. “See?” Sam chuckled when Dean leaned forward, desperately seeking out his brother’s lips again. “More fun this way.” Sam stood back up and then leaned forward once more, both of his hands on Dean’s thighs. “For me, anyways.”
”Bitch.” Dean glared. He didn’t like being teased, most especially not by Sam. Because Sam could be a mean bastard. Especially concerning sex.
His brother just raised his eyebrows and looked Dean up and down with that smirk back on his face. “Says the one in the cuffs.”
Dean tugged at them again. “I am so going to pay you back for this, Sammy.”
”I know.” Sam leaned forward and brushed his lips over Dean’s. “That’s why I intend to make the most of it.” He winked and then left again before Dean could steal a real kiss.
While Sam walked over to the bag, Dean suddenly frowned. “Hey, how’d you get me in here in the first place?” He couldn’t remember anything.
The question elicited an evil chuckle out of Sam. “You know how I’ve been practising on my powers?” He waited for Dean to nod before he went on. “Turns out you’ll do anything I want when I whisper it to you in your sleep. And you don’t even remember a damn thing.” He grinned. “Pretty nifty, huh?”
Dean was speechless. All he could do was stare at his brother’s back as he rummaged through the bag and then turned again, hiding what he had been looking for.
“But don’t worry.” Sam stalked back over to him, one arm behind his back. “I don’t plan on abusing this. Much.” The grin flashed again, reminding Dean of that creepy Cheshire Cat from that silly movie he had to keep watching with Sammy back when they were kids. He hated that movie, but couldn’t deny that it was fun watching his brother watch it. Because it had made Sam happy and bouncy and he still got scared even after they had seen it so many times.
“Dude…” Dean started, still unsure on how to process this newfound information about his surely strange baby brother.
Sam’s laughter stopped him from formulating a proper response. “Come on, Dean. Why would I keep doing this to you?” He knelt down in front of him, reaching out with his free hand to cup his cheek. Sam waited until Dean met his eyes, then he gave him one of his Sam patented serious looks. “It’s way more fun when we’re both conscious for this.” He smiled before leaning forward for a kiss. This time he didn’t pull back and their kiss was long and hot, with Sam’s hand playing with the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck and Dean flexing his fingers, only wishing he could do the same.
They were both panting hard when it ended. Dean licked his lips, staring at his brother. Sam, whom he trusted more than anybody else, more than himself even. Still. Even with the powers and all the shit that had happened to them. He knew his brother would never, could never abuse his gift. Well, other than he already had anyways. “I ever find out you made me slow dance, I’ll whip you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
Sam laughed and Dean joined in, both dispersing the tension before it could even really rise up. Then they kissed again. It started slower this time, but ended desperate, teeth clinking together, neither pulling back until their lungs screamed for oxygen.
“God, Dean…” Sam had trouble breathing regularly again. “You’re just so… so damn hot.” He nibbled on Dean’s bottom lip before sucking it in, soothing, before he bit down hard and pulled away again.
Dean groaned. “I want to touch you so bad,” he admitted, his fingers still involuntary flexing, itching to pull Sam close, tug on his hair, map his skin.
“I know.” Sam smiled and nuzzled Dean’s cheek. “Later.” He shrugged, almost apologetic, although Dean was sure he wasn’t sorry at all. Then, right after another quick kiss, Sam leaned back on his heels, panting and just watching.
“Aw, come on!” Dean hated this. He hated waiting. And his brother fucking knew it but he just smiled. Then he moved his arm, presenting one of his hunting knives. Dean raised his eyebrow and squirmed a little, his cock stirring at the thought of all the wicked things Sam might do with it.
Sam touched the tip of the blade carefully, locking his eyes with Dean’s again and keeping the connection while he twirled the knife, letting it glint in the few stray rays of sunshine still emitting through the drawn curtains. Then he took a good grip and slashed it through the air.
Dean watched him mesmerized, so lost in it that he startled when Sam suddenly jumped up and in one fluid move had the knife pressed to Dean’s throat. Dean shuddered and hated himself for it. It wasn’t fear though, it was sheer mind-blowing, irrational lust. He hoped his brother could see the difference. But judging by his smirk, he could. And Dean hated himself for being so easy. The knife pressed closer, almost nicking his skin and he shivered again, to his utter embarrassment also letting out a deep, long moan.
“You like this, don’t you, Dean?” Sam couldn’t help but taunt him with it. He took a hold of the gag still hanging around Dean’s neck and quickly cut it in half, letting it fall to the floor. “You’re such a slut for danger.”
“Am… am not.” Dean gulped, but who was he kidding? Certainly not Sam, who was raising his eyebrow amused.
“No? Oh well, sorry then.” Sam did the worst possible. He pulled away. “My bad. I’ll just put this back where it belongs again.”
Dean let out a strangled, utterly frustrated cry.
Sam stopped. “What was that Dean?” He leaned closer, but left the knife limply hanging at his side. “No?”
Dean growled. “You evil fuck.”
“But I told you I will put the knife away again.” He feigned innocence. “What else do you want?”
Dean bit his lip. He truly hated Sam. Hated him, hated him, hated him. “Don’t,” he ground through his teeth. Sam just cocked his head, waiting. Dean sighed. “Alright, you win. You were right.”
“Right with what, Dean?” Sam was way too good at this game. And Dean hated him even more.
“I… I… like danger.”
“Do you get off on it? Does it make you hard, Dean?” Sam pulled the knife back up, stroking it lightly down Dean’s chest until he reached his groin. “Does it make your cock swell and leak for me?”
“Yes!” Suddenly it was way too hot in this room and Dean started sweating. “Yes, please. Yes, it does.”
“Please what, Dean?” Sam was still waiting, stalling, driving Dean crazy with need.
“Please touch me, Sam,” Dean begged. He hated that it didn’t take much to get him begging these days.
Sam stroked his free hand over his brother’s cheek, down his neck and then over his chest. Dean just stared at him open-mouthed. Incredulous.
“With the knife, god dammit! Use the fucking knife already, you evil son of a bitch!” Dean couldn’t help it. He just snapped. And he knew he was going to regret it.
“Dean, Dean, Dean.” Sam shook his head disapprovingly. “Always such a filthy mouth.” He chuckled as he rubbed his thumb over Dean’s lips. “I don’t know if I should reward you for such insolence.”
“Fuck, please.” Dean hung his head. “Please, Sammy. I’m sorry. Just... just... please!” He swallowed, his mouth feeling way too dry. “I... I need it.” He gave Sam a pleading look.
Cupping his chin, Sam raised Dean’s head until they were eye level again. “I know you do, my dirty little pain whore.”
Dean was about to protest at this new expression, his mouth already opened, but then he closed it again. Who was he kidding? “Yes,” he whispered weakly and was rewarded with a long kiss from Sam. By the time their lips came apart again, Dean was so happy again, he just wanted to bounce. The anticipation was killing him.
“And you just can’t wait until I use you, can you?” Sam smirked.
Dean cocked his head. Was there a right answer to this question? Sam would take it as cue to tease him some more, no matter if he said yes or no. So he decided on a different approach. “Please.”
Smiling, Sam raised the knife again and Dean let out a sigh of relief. Apparently there had been a right answer after all. Sam grazed the knife over Dean’s cheek and down his throat and then under the shirt, tugging hard until he had a good beginning and was able to cut the garment in half.
He was working slowly, keeping eye contact with Dean rather than looking where he was cutting. It just kept Dean even more excited. He knew Sam was an expert at this, but the little hint of actual danger was still there and when Sam pressed down especially hard and the tip of the knife oh so very slightly nicked his skin, Dean couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. “Fuck.”
Sam smirked at him and stopped, twisting the knife around in the wound until it went from shallow to really fucking burning and Dean hissed. “You like this, don’t you?”
“Fuck!” Dean repeated again. He thrust up his hips, desperately seeking friction until Sam straddled him, his long legs and body weight blocking whatever movement Dean had left. Dean almost howled. “Fuck, Sam.”
“Tell me!” He commanded. “Tell me how much you like to be hurt. Tell me if you want me to cut deeper.” There was a dangerous glint in Sam’s eyes, as if he’d really do it if Dean would just ask for it.
“Sammy, please,” Dean’s breath hitched in his throat. The blade was still pressing, but not moving anymore. He tried to wiggle to make it, but it didn’t really work. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, why he wanted it. Did he really want the pain? He knew he wanted more. But why? And… and why the hell did Sam always have to make him beg for it? “More.”
He remembered why when Sam’s eyes twinkled and his excitement grew. It just turned them both on too frigging much.
“Gotta get this shirt off,” Sam was mumbling, the blade suddenly lifted off his chest and making quick work of the rest of his shirt until it was lying in shreds at their feet. “There.” He smiled and touched Dean’s abs with one of his large hands. “Better.” He leaned forward to nuzzle at Dean’s throat. “Love to feel your skin.”
Dan couldn’t do anything but moan. His chest was still burning, although he appreciated having the knife gone. But also, he wanted it back. “Sam.” He struggled with the cuffs once again, still wanting to touch his brother as well. He wanted to rip off Sam’s shirt and press their bodies together and rub up against him slick and sweaty. And bloody. He wanted to tell him, ask him, demand, beg, but his brain was unable to send the right signal to his lips. All he could do was chant his brother’s name.
“Mmm.” Sam moved lower and licked a path down Dean’s chest. The same path he had drawn with the hunting knife. Dean shivered and then froze when Sam came in contact with his wound. Licking up some of the blood that had spilled, Sam then looked back up and, his tongue still showing, grabbed Dean’s head and kissed him hard. Dean opened his mouth willingly, accepting Sam’s tongue, both of them sharing the copper taste.
Suddenly Dean went rigid in his chair, his brain going on overload. He wanted to fuck so god damn bad! He kept tugging against the cuffs as hard as ever and moved so much, the chair started moving, bringing them dangerously close to falling over. Sam quickly cupped Dean’s hands with his own, pulling back from the kiss to whisper soothing noises in his ear. Dean’s fingers flexed and then interlaced with Sam’s. He slowly calmed down, although his heart was still beating so hard he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Blood. He groaned.
Sam pulled back, a concerned look on his face. “Okay?” He asked, and Dean hated that he had to. Hated that he had so little control. Hated that it didn’t take much to nearly get him off.
He looked down, took a deep breath and then nodded, ashamed of himself. He couldn’t let Sam think that he needed reassurance though. “Wuss,” he taunted his brother, knowing full well that the only wuss here was himself. Although… Sam was really too damn concerned.
“Jerk.” Sam’s expression turned into a smile and he gave his brother a short kiss. “You’re really misbehaving today.” Dean could see that Sam had a hard time putting on a serious face. The smirk underneath was still shining through.
“Why? What did I do?” Recently. Dean pouted. He’d been good, he had.
“Dean, you almost made the chair fall over!”
“So?” He shrugged innocently. “You never told me not to.”
Sam opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I… I told you to stay still.”
”No, you didn’t.” Dean raised his chin.
“Oh, so now you’re questioning me?” Sam raised his eyebrow. “You think that’s gonna help your situation here?”
”What?” Dean was outraged. This was so unfair! “Are you fucking kidding me? You never…” He was silenced by Sam’s fingers on his lips.
“Hush.” Sam shook his head. “I think it’s time for you to get punished.”
Dean snarled, ready to trip the chair over on purpose, because… seriously? But then Sam was suddenly holding the knife again and Dean went quiet. His mood quickly changed and he was wiggling again, trying to finally get some friction against his once again aching cock. His tongue pulled out to lick against Sam’s fingers.
Sam chuckled and pulled his hand away, then pulled back, holding the knife to Dean’s chest, just hovering, moving up and down, but never enough to touch skin. And then, just when Dean thought he was going to strike, he threw the knife away and it landed on the mattress with a plop.
His mouth opening and closing again a few times, Dean just couldn’t believe it. His face fell. That just… Fuck dammit!
”What?” Now it was Sam’s turn to shrug innocently. “You think I’m going to punish you by giving you what you want?”
Dean just stared. First at Sam, then longingly at the knife, then back at his brother. A low growl formed deep in his throat. “You… you evil…”
“Oh, shut up.” Sam didn’t give him any time, he just fused their lips together, swallowing a few swear words before Dean gave up and relented into the kiss, their tongues now battling furiously, Dean still pissed off and Sam refusing to give in.
They pulled apart to gasp for air and Dean was just about to rant on, when Sam grabbed his hair and pulled him back violently, kissing him breathless. This scene repeated a few times, until they were both so out of air, they were panting together, foreheads mated, feeling each other’s hot breaths on their swollen lips.
Sam was the first to find his voice again. “You… you done?”
“Hardly.”
“Good.” They smiled at each other and kissed once more before Sam climbed off Dean’s lap shakily.
Dean frowned. What now?
“Too many clothes,” Sam explained before pulling off his shirt.
Dean watched him through hooded eyes and licked his lips when he saw the thin beads of sweat dripping down his brother’s abs. “Uncuff me and I’ll help you with it.”
“Cute, Dean. Real cute.” Sam smirked. “But I don’t think so.” He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down his long legs, then stepped out of them and kicked them a few feet away.
“No underwear?” Dean licked his lips again when his brother’s cock bobbed against his stomach. “What a naughty thing to do for a good boy, Sammy.” He smirked.
“Yeah well,” He replied. “That’s something I learned from my older brother.” He slowly undid the buttons on Dean’s pants. “Makes life so much easier, don’t you think?” Sam reached in, cupping Dean’s cock, and Dean just about died right there.
“God, fuck. Fuck! Sam!” He hissed and thrust into the touch as best as he could.
Sam gripped him hard and pumped him with a few powerful strokes. “God, Dean. So close. I wonder though, is it because of me, or because of the pain?”
Dean looked at him. How was he supposed to answer that one now? He didn’t even know himself. Both? Damn his brother! “You are the pain.” He gave him a pointed look. “A royal pain in my ass.”
“Oh, so that’s why you love me so much.” Sam smiled and blew him a kiss.
Dean just snorted in reply. “Shut up, woman, and fuck me already.”
“Aww, Dean.” Sam’s smile had turned into evil now. “I know you do, don’t you? You looove me.” He had stopped touching and was taking a step back. Dean was close to tears. If he wouldn’t get off soon, he was gonna lose it. “Come on,” Sam taunted him. “Say it.”
“Wait till I am out of these cuffs, then I’ll show you.” Dean glared. Yes, he was desperate and painfully hard, but he still had his principles. He’d admit to a lot of things with Sammy, but this was taking it too far.
“Oh, is that a promise?” Sam’s eyes softened and he wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, leaning close enough to nuzzle him.
Dean squirmed away. Dammit! Stupid Sam and his girly shit. “That was a threat. And I would take it seriously, if I were you.”
Sam laughed. “You think you’re in the position to make threats right now?” He let go and took the inevitable step back again.
Eyeing him up and down, then lingering at Sam’s cock, Dean raised his eyebrow. “I’d say you want it just as bad as me, so, yeah.”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting something here, Dean.”
He frowned. What now? He really, really wanted to just fucking do it now.
“I still have my hands.” Sam winked and started stroking his own cock with lazy strokes. He moaned especially loud. “Uuuh, yes!” Dean knew he was putting on a show, but dammit! “Mmm, so good. Oh man, Dean, I bet you’d love to help me right now, don’t you? And let me help you? Fist your cock as you stroke mine. Or better yet, we let them rub together.” Sam shuffled closer, their erections almost close enough to touch now, but once again there was no actual contact. Sam just kept on teasing.
Dean watched transfixed, his mouth hanging open. He couldn’t reply, he could just stare. By now he was even too weak to struggle against his cuffs. Sam would so pay for this. He’d shackle him down and whip him and… no, no, he wouldn’t. He’d shackle him down and make him hard and then let him lie there for the whole night. Maybe make him suck his cock, but he would not touch Sam’s. At all. Yeah. Yeah… Dean groaned pitifully. This was not helping him right now.
“Wouldn’t you like that, Dean?” Dean looked up at him. Huh? But Sam just kept going. “We’d come together, and then we’d just keep rubbing until we’re both hard again and then I’d let you fuck me. Maybe we’d even go outside and do it on the hood of the Impala.”
That got Dean’s attention and he snapped out of it enough to start struggling again. Oh Sam would so get it, damn right. Over the hood of the Impala. But he’d get a hard spanking first. “Fuck dammit, Sam.” Dean sighed. “Please. I can’t…” He bit his lip. “Can’t take this anymore.”
“Me either.” Sam stopped working himself and instead grabbed Dean’s head, holding him steady for a hard kiss. It was fast and dirty, almost violent. And over again way too soon, or too late, depending on the point of view. But since Sam’s next move was to pull Dean’s pants down around his ankles, Dean settled for ‘too late’. Because they really should have been at this point at least one fucking hour ago already.
“Lube,” Dean choked out, because as much as he wanted to hurt his brother right, he didn’t want it like this.
“On it.” Sam went to the bag and back again before Dean even really had time to catch his breath. The bottle was opened and the sticky liquid poured over his cock, Sam’s hands doing quick work of rubbing it in.
“Jesus, fuck!” Dean had to close his eyes. God dammit, he didn’t want to come now. Not so close to the finish. He took a deep breath and then whimpered when Sam squeezed his base hard. It was enough to jolt him back into it though.
Sam straddled Dean once again and slowly lowered himself down.
“Wait!” Dean frowned. Dammit!
“What?” Sam gave him a confused look.
“What about you?” Dean bit his lip. As much as his dick was aching to be buried deep in that ass right now, he knew he’d regret it later.
Sam surprised him with a chuckle and an eye roll. “Don’t worry.”
”But…” Dean started, but Sam placed his finger on Dean’s lips, silencing him.
“Shhh.” He shook his head and then took a firm hold of Dean’s erection before moving down further, carefully aligning them until he slow sunk down, stretching out around Dean easily until he was buried to the hilt.
Dean looked at his brother amazed, watching the pleasure and slight discomfort cross over his face until it was all washed away by sheer lust. He opened his mouth to say something, but Sam chose that time to start moving, grinding his ass against Dean, making them both groan out loud and putting an end to any rational thought Dean might have had left.
“Fuck, Dean!” Sam wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him close, kissing him just as he was pulling up and then slowly grinding down again, swallowing both of their groans.
Kissing him back hungrily, Dean was lost in the sensations now. He tried to keep his eyes open to watch Sam, but it was almost too much. His vision blurred and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was straining with the effort to hold it in, to make this good for Sammy, too. But judging by his brother’s moans and those whimpers he let out on each downstroke, increasing in volume and intensity, especially after they had to stop kissing, Sam was really, really close.
A point proven when Sam dropped one of his hands and began jerking himself off quickly. Dean managed to pout.
“I wanna,” he gasped out. Stupid cuffs. Sam just smiled at him and kissed him quickly, neither of them having enough oxygen left to let it linger.
“Next… time.” Sam bit his lip and closed his eyes, speeding up his movements even more until he suddenly clenched down hard and Dean could feel his sticky seed coating his stomach. “Dean!”
“Fuck.” Dean let out a deep breath and allowed himself to relax. Sam was still riding him and after two more strokes, he fell apart as well, coming inside of Sam, who was still faintly clenching. Dean shuddered. “Fuck,” he whispered again, his voice suddenly hoarse. “Sammy.”
Their thrusts eventually slowed down and Sam slumped forward, resting his head in the nook of Dean’s neck. “Mmm.” He sighed in satisfaction and planted a few open-mouthed kisses against Dean’s skin. Their hearts were racing in unison and they were both still breathing hard.
As soon as he had himself halfway back under control, Dean grinned. “Boyscout.”
Sam pulled back and looked at him, a bit confused at first, then he smirked. “You know me, always be prepared.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“So you like…” Dean was having trouble keeping his voice steady. “Got yourself ready outside?”
”Backseat.” Sam replied with a shrug, blushing slightly.
“Dude…” Dean shook his head, the mental picture alone enough to get his cock stirring again. But then he frowned. “Hey, you…”
”I put a towel under, yes.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Geeze.”
Dean shrugged. Hey, they had to spend a lot of time in that car. “Next time though, I want to watch.” He licked his lips.
”What, you mean the next time I am tying you to a chair?” Sam was amused.
“Yeah, and speaking off…” Dean gave him a pointed look. As much as he’d love a replay, the pain coming from his wrists had turned from being a turn-on into being bothersome shortly after his orgasm.
“Fuck!” Sam moved off of him, as if only just remembering now. His blush was back and full force now. He quickly scrambled for his pants and fumbled for a bit until he finally produced the key. Kneeling down behind Dean, Sam swore once again, before the cuffs clicked and then fell off of Dean’s wrists.
Dean tried to look at them, but Sam was keeping a firm grip now, not letting him move his arms just yet. “Ow, dammit, Sam!”
“Sorry.” His brother’s voice was broken. “It’s just…” He didn’t continue, but let go of his hold on Dean’s arms, so Dean pulled them back to examine himself.
“Jesus!” His wrists didn’t look so good. And actually, now that he was looking at all the chafing and the blood, they felt a lot worse too. But just one look at his brother, who had come up beside him, made him feel horrible. Sam looked devastated. “It’s not so bad.” Dean pretended a smile. And hey, seriously, compared to some of his hunting injuries, this was a piece of cake. … Mmm, cake… He could do with a piece of cake right now. He smiled again. And already he was feeling better.
“Dean…” Sam’s expression was still guilty as hell, so Dean tried to lighten the mood.
“What? You have no problem cutting me with a knife, but when I chafe a little you feel bad?” He shook his head.
“Oh, look who’s talking. Mr. I-will-spank-you-raw-but-won’t-fuck-you-unprepared.” Sam glared at him. Good. A glare was better than that broken puppy look.
“Yeah well, there’s a difference.”
”Exactly!” Sam snapped back, then frowned. “God, we really kinda suck at this, don’t we?”
Dean chuckled. “I dunno, I thought we were doing pretty well just then.” He carefully touched his left wrist and hissed.
“Wait.” Sam walked back to the bag and this time brought the whole thing over. As soon as it was down at his feet, Dean got a good glance at bandages, gauze, antiseptic lotion and a few other medical necessities.
“Dear god, you really are a boyscout, aren’t you? Did you secretly join because you knew I’d kick your ass if I found out?” Dean mocked him, but honestly, he was grateful for the lotion Sam started applying now. It felt soothing. Not like he’d ever admit to it though.
“Shut up,” Sam rolled his eyes.
“Just saying. You could have packed a whole bag full of sex toys. Or weapons, for Christ’s sake. And what do you pack? A medic kit.”
“Well, maybe I planned to cut you up real good and then patch you back up just for fun.” Sam huffed. “Figured I couldn’t let you die on me when there’s still so much more sex left to be had.”
“Riiight.” Dean chuckled and Sam glared at him again. They spent a few more minutes in silence, Sam bandaging up Dean’s wrists and Dean watching him, until Dean spoke up again. “You know what would be a nifty power? Healing.”
Sam gave him a weak smile. “Yeah.” He finished up with Dean’s right wrist. “But why would the demon give me powers to actually help people? No, it’s gotta be manipulative and destructive.”
“Sam…” Dean reached out, but before he could touch him, Sam waved off and got up.
“Let’s not have this conversation right now, okay?”
“’Kay.” Dean nodded. They would though. Later. He couldn’t stand watching Sam like this. Always thinking he was responsible, that everything was his fault. And besides, his powers did help people. He’d witnessed it first hand.
Sam pointed towards the bed. “Alright, get in.”
Dean raised his eyebrow. “Oh? Back in command now?”
Sam raised his eyebrow as well and just pointed again. It was enough to get Dean moving. His legs felt stiff and he had to summon up all his strength, but thankfully the bed wasn’t too far away and he could just slump down on it.
He landed next to the knife and picked it up, looking at it while Sam vanished in the bathroom. When he came back out, it was with a wet washcloth in his hands and he proceeded to clean Dean up without another word. Dean just kept watching him cautiously.
When Sam was done, he took the knife out of Dean’s hands and put it back into the bag before making another stop in the bathroom. When he came back out, he finally laid down next to Dean, propped up on one arm and focused on the small cut on Dean’s chest. He hadn’t applied any of his lotion to that wound and when he touched it now, Dean hissed again. It wasn’t all pain though, no, actually it triggered his memory and his cock made another attempt at raising again.
“So, I was thinking…” Sam started and Dean expected the worst. “Next time leather padded cuffs and you’ll get shackled to the bed instead. Then you can wiggle and twitch all you want, you won’t make me fall over.”
“Wiggle and twitch?” Dean huffed offended.
“Wiggle, twitch, shudder and beg.” Sam smirked.
Dean tried to keep looking mad, but he failed miserably. Seeing Sam’s smirk made him smirk as well. “Next time?”
“Uhuh.” Sam nodded and settled down more comfortably, wrapping an arm around Dean and pulling him close. Dean was so wiped out, he went willingly. Not like he needed to be wiped out, but it was always nice to have an alibi for the girly stuff.
“I believe you have a date with the hood of the Impala first.” Dean grinned up at him.
“We’ll see.” Sam brought the covers up around them and they both closed their eyes, mentally planning out their respective ‘next time’s and in no time at all they had both fallen asleep.
Author: Vera
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys or Supernatural or anything at all, really. Kudos to Eric Kripke.
Spoilers: AHBL 1, kinda, but I’m going AU with powers and this is pretty PWP, so you can read it without having seen the ep.
Summary: Dean finds himself in a familiar situation: Gagged and tied to a chair.
Author’s Note: Happy Birthday, aelfsiden!
Dean couldn’t believe it. He was tied to a fucking chair. Again. This time with cuffs instead of rope, but that didn’t freakin’ matter! And to make it all worse, he couldn’t even bitch about it, because he was gagged as well. Go figure. So all his muttered curses came out as jumbled groans.
But since nobody was even in the room with him, Dean gave up after a while and just receded to quietly trying to get rid of the cuffs. He really wished he wore his jacket instead of just a simple black tee. He could have shaken out a paper clip. Or at least one of his hidden knives. He sighed and checked his surroundings more closely, looking for clues as to where he was and who had left him here. Oddly enough he seemed to be in a cheap motel room instead of an abandoned warehouse or any other kind of remote location.
There was a large bag lying on the double bed, but before he had time to wonder what might be in it, the door suddenly burst open and his brother entered. Dean let out a relieved sigh, or what would have passed for it without the gag, and started moving again, struggling against the cuffs to make sure Sam would open them.
As soon as Sam had pushed the gag down around his neck, Dean started cussing. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch. This just sucks.” He made a face, looking at his brother. “Dude, that gag tasted aweful.” He spat but then frowned, realizing Sam wasn’t making a move to uncuff him. “Okay, any day now, Sammy.” He gave him a look and rolled his eyes when Sam finally moved behind him.
Dean could feel Sam’s hands around his and anxiously waited to get out of the chair, when the hands were just gone again and Sam knelt down next to him.
“You know, I don’t think I will uncuff you just yet.”
”What?” Dean’s mouth opened in shock. “And why the hell not, smart ass?” Was he planning a trap with him as bait? Without knowing details, Dean was convinced that it was a stupid plan.
Sam smirked. “Because I’ve only just tied you up, so where would be the point?”
Dean’s face fell and he just stared at his brother for a moment. “You didn’t.”
”Oh yes, I did.” Sam’s smirk turned into a grin and Dean tugged against the restraints violently, wanting nothing more than to wipe that grin off of his brother’s face. “But don’t worry,” Sam continued. “I’m gonna release you. As soon as I am done with you.” He winked and placed his hands on Dean’s thighs.
Dean swallowed. Dammit if those hands didn’t always manage to distract him. He cocked his head, wagering his options. So either Sam had gotten possessed again or this was turning into some kind of kinky sex game. Or he was a shapeshifter. Dean shuddered at the thought. Man, he hated those things.
But before he could ponder on, Sam was suddenly in his lap, fusing his lips to his own. ‘Alright’, Dean thought with a smirk. ‘Kinky sex game it is.’ He responded to the kiss eagerly, opening his lips when Sam’s tongue demanded entrance. Although it might just still be a demon. Or a shapeshifter… But nah, this definitely felt like Sam.
As their tongues duelled, Dean itched to wrap his arms around his lover, to press him closer or just thread his fingers through Sam’s shaggy hair. He tugged against the cuffs and groaned against Sam’s lips. The kiss stopped.
“You know, this would be more fun if you’d unshackle me already.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows promisingly.
“Yeah…” Sam laughed. “I don’t think so.” He leaned in for another kiss but then pulled away right before their lips could actually touch. “See?” Sam chuckled when Dean leaned forward, desperately seeking out his brother’s lips again. “More fun this way.” Sam stood back up and then leaned forward once more, both of his hands on Dean’s thighs. “For me, anyways.”
”Bitch.” Dean glared. He didn’t like being teased, most especially not by Sam. Because Sam could be a mean bastard. Especially concerning sex.
His brother just raised his eyebrows and looked Dean up and down with that smirk back on his face. “Says the one in the cuffs.”
Dean tugged at them again. “I am so going to pay you back for this, Sammy.”
”I know.” Sam leaned forward and brushed his lips over Dean’s. “That’s why I intend to make the most of it.” He winked and then left again before Dean could steal a real kiss.
While Sam walked over to the bag, Dean suddenly frowned. “Hey, how’d you get me in here in the first place?” He couldn’t remember anything.
The question elicited an evil chuckle out of Sam. “You know how I’ve been practising on my powers?” He waited for Dean to nod before he went on. “Turns out you’ll do anything I want when I whisper it to you in your sleep. And you don’t even remember a damn thing.” He grinned. “Pretty nifty, huh?”
Dean was speechless. All he could do was stare at his brother’s back as he rummaged through the bag and then turned again, hiding what he had been looking for.
“But don’t worry.” Sam stalked back over to him, one arm behind his back. “I don’t plan on abusing this. Much.” The grin flashed again, reminding Dean of that creepy Cheshire Cat from that silly movie he had to keep watching with Sammy back when they were kids. He hated that movie, but couldn’t deny that it was fun watching his brother watch it. Because it had made Sam happy and bouncy and he still got scared even after they had seen it so many times.
“Dude…” Dean started, still unsure on how to process this newfound information about his surely strange baby brother.
Sam’s laughter stopped him from formulating a proper response. “Come on, Dean. Why would I keep doing this to you?” He knelt down in front of him, reaching out with his free hand to cup his cheek. Sam waited until Dean met his eyes, then he gave him one of his Sam patented serious looks. “It’s way more fun when we’re both conscious for this.” He smiled before leaning forward for a kiss. This time he didn’t pull back and their kiss was long and hot, with Sam’s hand playing with the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck and Dean flexing his fingers, only wishing he could do the same.
They were both panting hard when it ended. Dean licked his lips, staring at his brother. Sam, whom he trusted more than anybody else, more than himself even. Still. Even with the powers and all the shit that had happened to them. He knew his brother would never, could never abuse his gift. Well, other than he already had anyways. “I ever find out you made me slow dance, I’ll whip you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
Sam laughed and Dean joined in, both dispersing the tension before it could even really rise up. Then they kissed again. It started slower this time, but ended desperate, teeth clinking together, neither pulling back until their lungs screamed for oxygen.
“God, Dean…” Sam had trouble breathing regularly again. “You’re just so… so damn hot.” He nibbled on Dean’s bottom lip before sucking it in, soothing, before he bit down hard and pulled away again.
Dean groaned. “I want to touch you so bad,” he admitted, his fingers still involuntary flexing, itching to pull Sam close, tug on his hair, map his skin.
“I know.” Sam smiled and nuzzled Dean’s cheek. “Later.” He shrugged, almost apologetic, although Dean was sure he wasn’t sorry at all. Then, right after another quick kiss, Sam leaned back on his heels, panting and just watching.
“Aw, come on!” Dean hated this. He hated waiting. And his brother fucking knew it but he just smiled. Then he moved his arm, presenting one of his hunting knives. Dean raised his eyebrow and squirmed a little, his cock stirring at the thought of all the wicked things Sam might do with it.
Sam touched the tip of the blade carefully, locking his eyes with Dean’s again and keeping the connection while he twirled the knife, letting it glint in the few stray rays of sunshine still emitting through the drawn curtains. Then he took a good grip and slashed it through the air.
Dean watched him mesmerized, so lost in it that he startled when Sam suddenly jumped up and in one fluid move had the knife pressed to Dean’s throat. Dean shuddered and hated himself for it. It wasn’t fear though, it was sheer mind-blowing, irrational lust. He hoped his brother could see the difference. But judging by his smirk, he could. And Dean hated himself for being so easy. The knife pressed closer, almost nicking his skin and he shivered again, to his utter embarrassment also letting out a deep, long moan.
“You like this, don’t you, Dean?” Sam couldn’t help but taunt him with it. He took a hold of the gag still hanging around Dean’s neck and quickly cut it in half, letting it fall to the floor. “You’re such a slut for danger.”
“Am… am not.” Dean gulped, but who was he kidding? Certainly not Sam, who was raising his eyebrow amused.
“No? Oh well, sorry then.” Sam did the worst possible. He pulled away. “My bad. I’ll just put this back where it belongs again.”
Dean let out a strangled, utterly frustrated cry.
Sam stopped. “What was that Dean?” He leaned closer, but left the knife limply hanging at his side. “No?”
Dean growled. “You evil fuck.”
“But I told you I will put the knife away again.” He feigned innocence. “What else do you want?”
Dean bit his lip. He truly hated Sam. Hated him, hated him, hated him. “Don’t,” he ground through his teeth. Sam just cocked his head, waiting. Dean sighed. “Alright, you win. You were right.”
“Right with what, Dean?” Sam was way too good at this game. And Dean hated him even more.
“I… I… like danger.”
“Do you get off on it? Does it make you hard, Dean?” Sam pulled the knife back up, stroking it lightly down Dean’s chest until he reached his groin. “Does it make your cock swell and leak for me?”
“Yes!” Suddenly it was way too hot in this room and Dean started sweating. “Yes, please. Yes, it does.”
“Please what, Dean?” Sam was still waiting, stalling, driving Dean crazy with need.
“Please touch me, Sam,” Dean begged. He hated that it didn’t take much to get him begging these days.
Sam stroked his free hand over his brother’s cheek, down his neck and then over his chest. Dean just stared at him open-mouthed. Incredulous.
“With the knife, god dammit! Use the fucking knife already, you evil son of a bitch!” Dean couldn’t help it. He just snapped. And he knew he was going to regret it.
“Dean, Dean, Dean.” Sam shook his head disapprovingly. “Always such a filthy mouth.” He chuckled as he rubbed his thumb over Dean’s lips. “I don’t know if I should reward you for such insolence.”
“Fuck, please.” Dean hung his head. “Please, Sammy. I’m sorry. Just... just... please!” He swallowed, his mouth feeling way too dry. “I... I need it.” He gave Sam a pleading look.
Cupping his chin, Sam raised Dean’s head until they were eye level again. “I know you do, my dirty little pain whore.”
Dean was about to protest at this new expression, his mouth already opened, but then he closed it again. Who was he kidding? “Yes,” he whispered weakly and was rewarded with a long kiss from Sam. By the time their lips came apart again, Dean was so happy again, he just wanted to bounce. The anticipation was killing him.
“And you just can’t wait until I use you, can you?” Sam smirked.
Dean cocked his head. Was there a right answer to this question? Sam would take it as cue to tease him some more, no matter if he said yes or no. So he decided on a different approach. “Please.”
Smiling, Sam raised the knife again and Dean let out a sigh of relief. Apparently there had been a right answer after all. Sam grazed the knife over Dean’s cheek and down his throat and then under the shirt, tugging hard until he had a good beginning and was able to cut the garment in half.
He was working slowly, keeping eye contact with Dean rather than looking where he was cutting. It just kept Dean even more excited. He knew Sam was an expert at this, but the little hint of actual danger was still there and when Sam pressed down especially hard and the tip of the knife oh so very slightly nicked his skin, Dean couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. “Fuck.”
Sam smirked at him and stopped, twisting the knife around in the wound until it went from shallow to really fucking burning and Dean hissed. “You like this, don’t you?”
“Fuck!” Dean repeated again. He thrust up his hips, desperately seeking friction until Sam straddled him, his long legs and body weight blocking whatever movement Dean had left. Dean almost howled. “Fuck, Sam.”
“Tell me!” He commanded. “Tell me how much you like to be hurt. Tell me if you want me to cut deeper.” There was a dangerous glint in Sam’s eyes, as if he’d really do it if Dean would just ask for it.
“Sammy, please,” Dean’s breath hitched in his throat. The blade was still pressing, but not moving anymore. He tried to wiggle to make it, but it didn’t really work. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, why he wanted it. Did he really want the pain? He knew he wanted more. But why? And… and why the hell did Sam always have to make him beg for it? “More.”
He remembered why when Sam’s eyes twinkled and his excitement grew. It just turned them both on too frigging much.
“Gotta get this shirt off,” Sam was mumbling, the blade suddenly lifted off his chest and making quick work of the rest of his shirt until it was lying in shreds at their feet. “There.” He smiled and touched Dean’s abs with one of his large hands. “Better.” He leaned forward to nuzzle at Dean’s throat. “Love to feel your skin.”
Dan couldn’t do anything but moan. His chest was still burning, although he appreciated having the knife gone. But also, he wanted it back. “Sam.” He struggled with the cuffs once again, still wanting to touch his brother as well. He wanted to rip off Sam’s shirt and press their bodies together and rub up against him slick and sweaty. And bloody. He wanted to tell him, ask him, demand, beg, but his brain was unable to send the right signal to his lips. All he could do was chant his brother’s name.
“Mmm.” Sam moved lower and licked a path down Dean’s chest. The same path he had drawn with the hunting knife. Dean shivered and then froze when Sam came in contact with his wound. Licking up some of the blood that had spilled, Sam then looked back up and, his tongue still showing, grabbed Dean’s head and kissed him hard. Dean opened his mouth willingly, accepting Sam’s tongue, both of them sharing the copper taste.
Suddenly Dean went rigid in his chair, his brain going on overload. He wanted to fuck so god damn bad! He kept tugging against the cuffs as hard as ever and moved so much, the chair started moving, bringing them dangerously close to falling over. Sam quickly cupped Dean’s hands with his own, pulling back from the kiss to whisper soothing noises in his ear. Dean’s fingers flexed and then interlaced with Sam’s. He slowly calmed down, although his heart was still beating so hard he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Blood. He groaned.
Sam pulled back, a concerned look on his face. “Okay?” He asked, and Dean hated that he had to. Hated that he had so little control. Hated that it didn’t take much to nearly get him off.
He looked down, took a deep breath and then nodded, ashamed of himself. He couldn’t let Sam think that he needed reassurance though. “Wuss,” he taunted his brother, knowing full well that the only wuss here was himself. Although… Sam was really too damn concerned.
“Jerk.” Sam’s expression turned into a smile and he gave his brother a short kiss. “You’re really misbehaving today.” Dean could see that Sam had a hard time putting on a serious face. The smirk underneath was still shining through.
“Why? What did I do?” Recently. Dean pouted. He’d been good, he had.
“Dean, you almost made the chair fall over!”
“So?” He shrugged innocently. “You never told me not to.”
Sam opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I… I told you to stay still.”
”No, you didn’t.” Dean raised his chin.
“Oh, so now you’re questioning me?” Sam raised his eyebrow. “You think that’s gonna help your situation here?”
”What?” Dean was outraged. This was so unfair! “Are you fucking kidding me? You never…” He was silenced by Sam’s fingers on his lips.
“Hush.” Sam shook his head. “I think it’s time for you to get punished.”
Dean snarled, ready to trip the chair over on purpose, because… seriously? But then Sam was suddenly holding the knife again and Dean went quiet. His mood quickly changed and he was wiggling again, trying to finally get some friction against his once again aching cock. His tongue pulled out to lick against Sam’s fingers.
Sam chuckled and pulled his hand away, then pulled back, holding the knife to Dean’s chest, just hovering, moving up and down, but never enough to touch skin. And then, just when Dean thought he was going to strike, he threw the knife away and it landed on the mattress with a plop.
His mouth opening and closing again a few times, Dean just couldn’t believe it. His face fell. That just… Fuck dammit!
”What?” Now it was Sam’s turn to shrug innocently. “You think I’m going to punish you by giving you what you want?”
Dean just stared. First at Sam, then longingly at the knife, then back at his brother. A low growl formed deep in his throat. “You… you evil…”
“Oh, shut up.” Sam didn’t give him any time, he just fused their lips together, swallowing a few swear words before Dean gave up and relented into the kiss, their tongues now battling furiously, Dean still pissed off and Sam refusing to give in.
They pulled apart to gasp for air and Dean was just about to rant on, when Sam grabbed his hair and pulled him back violently, kissing him breathless. This scene repeated a few times, until they were both so out of air, they were panting together, foreheads mated, feeling each other’s hot breaths on their swollen lips.
Sam was the first to find his voice again. “You… you done?”
“Hardly.”
“Good.” They smiled at each other and kissed once more before Sam climbed off Dean’s lap shakily.
Dean frowned. What now?
“Too many clothes,” Sam explained before pulling off his shirt.
Dean watched him through hooded eyes and licked his lips when he saw the thin beads of sweat dripping down his brother’s abs. “Uncuff me and I’ll help you with it.”
“Cute, Dean. Real cute.” Sam smirked. “But I don’t think so.” He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down his long legs, then stepped out of them and kicked them a few feet away.
“No underwear?” Dean licked his lips again when his brother’s cock bobbed against his stomach. “What a naughty thing to do for a good boy, Sammy.” He smirked.
“Yeah well,” He replied. “That’s something I learned from my older brother.” He slowly undid the buttons on Dean’s pants. “Makes life so much easier, don’t you think?” Sam reached in, cupping Dean’s cock, and Dean just about died right there.
“God, fuck. Fuck! Sam!” He hissed and thrust into the touch as best as he could.
Sam gripped him hard and pumped him with a few powerful strokes. “God, Dean. So close. I wonder though, is it because of me, or because of the pain?”
Dean looked at him. How was he supposed to answer that one now? He didn’t even know himself. Both? Damn his brother! “You are the pain.” He gave him a pointed look. “A royal pain in my ass.”
“Oh, so that’s why you love me so much.” Sam smiled and blew him a kiss.
Dean just snorted in reply. “Shut up, woman, and fuck me already.”
“Aww, Dean.” Sam’s smile had turned into evil now. “I know you do, don’t you? You looove me.” He had stopped touching and was taking a step back. Dean was close to tears. If he wouldn’t get off soon, he was gonna lose it. “Come on,” Sam taunted him. “Say it.”
“Wait till I am out of these cuffs, then I’ll show you.” Dean glared. Yes, he was desperate and painfully hard, but he still had his principles. He’d admit to a lot of things with Sammy, but this was taking it too far.
“Oh, is that a promise?” Sam’s eyes softened and he wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, leaning close enough to nuzzle him.
Dean squirmed away. Dammit! Stupid Sam and his girly shit. “That was a threat. And I would take it seriously, if I were you.”
Sam laughed. “You think you’re in the position to make threats right now?” He let go and took the inevitable step back again.
Eyeing him up and down, then lingering at Sam’s cock, Dean raised his eyebrow. “I’d say you want it just as bad as me, so, yeah.”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting something here, Dean.”
He frowned. What now? He really, really wanted to just fucking do it now.
“I still have my hands.” Sam winked and started stroking his own cock with lazy strokes. He moaned especially loud. “Uuuh, yes!” Dean knew he was putting on a show, but dammit! “Mmm, so good. Oh man, Dean, I bet you’d love to help me right now, don’t you? And let me help you? Fist your cock as you stroke mine. Or better yet, we let them rub together.” Sam shuffled closer, their erections almost close enough to touch now, but once again there was no actual contact. Sam just kept on teasing.
Dean watched transfixed, his mouth hanging open. He couldn’t reply, he could just stare. By now he was even too weak to struggle against his cuffs. Sam would so pay for this. He’d shackle him down and whip him and… no, no, he wouldn’t. He’d shackle him down and make him hard and then let him lie there for the whole night. Maybe make him suck his cock, but he would not touch Sam’s. At all. Yeah. Yeah… Dean groaned pitifully. This was not helping him right now.
“Wouldn’t you like that, Dean?” Dean looked up at him. Huh? But Sam just kept going. “We’d come together, and then we’d just keep rubbing until we’re both hard again and then I’d let you fuck me. Maybe we’d even go outside and do it on the hood of the Impala.”
That got Dean’s attention and he snapped out of it enough to start struggling again. Oh Sam would so get it, damn right. Over the hood of the Impala. But he’d get a hard spanking first. “Fuck dammit, Sam.” Dean sighed. “Please. I can’t…” He bit his lip. “Can’t take this anymore.”
“Me either.” Sam stopped working himself and instead grabbed Dean’s head, holding him steady for a hard kiss. It was fast and dirty, almost violent. And over again way too soon, or too late, depending on the point of view. But since Sam’s next move was to pull Dean’s pants down around his ankles, Dean settled for ‘too late’. Because they really should have been at this point at least one fucking hour ago already.
“Lube,” Dean choked out, because as much as he wanted to hurt his brother right, he didn’t want it like this.
“On it.” Sam went to the bag and back again before Dean even really had time to catch his breath. The bottle was opened and the sticky liquid poured over his cock, Sam’s hands doing quick work of rubbing it in.
“Jesus, fuck!” Dean had to close his eyes. God dammit, he didn’t want to come now. Not so close to the finish. He took a deep breath and then whimpered when Sam squeezed his base hard. It was enough to jolt him back into it though.
Sam straddled Dean once again and slowly lowered himself down.
“Wait!” Dean frowned. Dammit!
“What?” Sam gave him a confused look.
“What about you?” Dean bit his lip. As much as his dick was aching to be buried deep in that ass right now, he knew he’d regret it later.
Sam surprised him with a chuckle and an eye roll. “Don’t worry.”
”But…” Dean started, but Sam placed his finger on Dean’s lips, silencing him.
“Shhh.” He shook his head and then took a firm hold of Dean’s erection before moving down further, carefully aligning them until he slow sunk down, stretching out around Dean easily until he was buried to the hilt.
Dean looked at his brother amazed, watching the pleasure and slight discomfort cross over his face until it was all washed away by sheer lust. He opened his mouth to say something, but Sam chose that time to start moving, grinding his ass against Dean, making them both groan out loud and putting an end to any rational thought Dean might have had left.
“Fuck, Dean!” Sam wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him close, kissing him just as he was pulling up and then slowly grinding down again, swallowing both of their groans.
Kissing him back hungrily, Dean was lost in the sensations now. He tried to keep his eyes open to watch Sam, but it was almost too much. His vision blurred and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was straining with the effort to hold it in, to make this good for Sammy, too. But judging by his brother’s moans and those whimpers he let out on each downstroke, increasing in volume and intensity, especially after they had to stop kissing, Sam was really, really close.
A point proven when Sam dropped one of his hands and began jerking himself off quickly. Dean managed to pout.
“I wanna,” he gasped out. Stupid cuffs. Sam just smiled at him and kissed him quickly, neither of them having enough oxygen left to let it linger.
“Next… time.” Sam bit his lip and closed his eyes, speeding up his movements even more until he suddenly clenched down hard and Dean could feel his sticky seed coating his stomach. “Dean!”
“Fuck.” Dean let out a deep breath and allowed himself to relax. Sam was still riding him and after two more strokes, he fell apart as well, coming inside of Sam, who was still faintly clenching. Dean shuddered. “Fuck,” he whispered again, his voice suddenly hoarse. “Sammy.”
Their thrusts eventually slowed down and Sam slumped forward, resting his head in the nook of Dean’s neck. “Mmm.” He sighed in satisfaction and planted a few open-mouthed kisses against Dean’s skin. Their hearts were racing in unison and they were both still breathing hard.
As soon as he had himself halfway back under control, Dean grinned. “Boyscout.”
Sam pulled back and looked at him, a bit confused at first, then he smirked. “You know me, always be prepared.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“So you like…” Dean was having trouble keeping his voice steady. “Got yourself ready outside?”
”Backseat.” Sam replied with a shrug, blushing slightly.
“Dude…” Dean shook his head, the mental picture alone enough to get his cock stirring again. But then he frowned. “Hey, you…”
”I put a towel under, yes.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Geeze.”
Dean shrugged. Hey, they had to spend a lot of time in that car. “Next time though, I want to watch.” He licked his lips.
”What, you mean the next time I am tying you to a chair?” Sam was amused.
“Yeah, and speaking off…” Dean gave him a pointed look. As much as he’d love a replay, the pain coming from his wrists had turned from being a turn-on into being bothersome shortly after his orgasm.
“Fuck!” Sam moved off of him, as if only just remembering now. His blush was back and full force now. He quickly scrambled for his pants and fumbled for a bit until he finally produced the key. Kneeling down behind Dean, Sam swore once again, before the cuffs clicked and then fell off of Dean’s wrists.
Dean tried to look at them, but Sam was keeping a firm grip now, not letting him move his arms just yet. “Ow, dammit, Sam!”
“Sorry.” His brother’s voice was broken. “It’s just…” He didn’t continue, but let go of his hold on Dean’s arms, so Dean pulled them back to examine himself.
“Jesus!” His wrists didn’t look so good. And actually, now that he was looking at all the chafing and the blood, they felt a lot worse too. But just one look at his brother, who had come up beside him, made him feel horrible. Sam looked devastated. “It’s not so bad.” Dean pretended a smile. And hey, seriously, compared to some of his hunting injuries, this was a piece of cake. … Mmm, cake… He could do with a piece of cake right now. He smiled again. And already he was feeling better.
“Dean…” Sam’s expression was still guilty as hell, so Dean tried to lighten the mood.
“What? You have no problem cutting me with a knife, but when I chafe a little you feel bad?” He shook his head.
“Oh, look who’s talking. Mr. I-will-spank-you-raw-but-won’t-fuck-you-unprepared.” Sam glared at him. Good. A glare was better than that broken puppy look.
“Yeah well, there’s a difference.”
”Exactly!” Sam snapped back, then frowned. “God, we really kinda suck at this, don’t we?”
Dean chuckled. “I dunno, I thought we were doing pretty well just then.” He carefully touched his left wrist and hissed.
“Wait.” Sam walked back to the bag and this time brought the whole thing over. As soon as it was down at his feet, Dean got a good glance at bandages, gauze, antiseptic lotion and a few other medical necessities.
“Dear god, you really are a boyscout, aren’t you? Did you secretly join because you knew I’d kick your ass if I found out?” Dean mocked him, but honestly, he was grateful for the lotion Sam started applying now. It felt soothing. Not like he’d ever admit to it though.
“Shut up,” Sam rolled his eyes.
“Just saying. You could have packed a whole bag full of sex toys. Or weapons, for Christ’s sake. And what do you pack? A medic kit.”
“Well, maybe I planned to cut you up real good and then patch you back up just for fun.” Sam huffed. “Figured I couldn’t let you die on me when there’s still so much more sex left to be had.”
“Riiight.” Dean chuckled and Sam glared at him again. They spent a few more minutes in silence, Sam bandaging up Dean’s wrists and Dean watching him, until Dean spoke up again. “You know what would be a nifty power? Healing.”
Sam gave him a weak smile. “Yeah.” He finished up with Dean’s right wrist. “But why would the demon give me powers to actually help people? No, it’s gotta be manipulative and destructive.”
“Sam…” Dean reached out, but before he could touch him, Sam waved off and got up.
“Let’s not have this conversation right now, okay?”
“’Kay.” Dean nodded. They would though. Later. He couldn’t stand watching Sam like this. Always thinking he was responsible, that everything was his fault. And besides, his powers did help people. He’d witnessed it first hand.
Sam pointed towards the bed. “Alright, get in.”
Dean raised his eyebrow. “Oh? Back in command now?”
Sam raised his eyebrow as well and just pointed again. It was enough to get Dean moving. His legs felt stiff and he had to summon up all his strength, but thankfully the bed wasn’t too far away and he could just slump down on it.
He landed next to the knife and picked it up, looking at it while Sam vanished in the bathroom. When he came back out, it was with a wet washcloth in his hands and he proceeded to clean Dean up without another word. Dean just kept watching him cautiously.
When Sam was done, he took the knife out of Dean’s hands and put it back into the bag before making another stop in the bathroom. When he came back out, he finally laid down next to Dean, propped up on one arm and focused on the small cut on Dean’s chest. He hadn’t applied any of his lotion to that wound and when he touched it now, Dean hissed again. It wasn’t all pain though, no, actually it triggered his memory and his cock made another attempt at raising again.
“So, I was thinking…” Sam started and Dean expected the worst. “Next time leather padded cuffs and you’ll get shackled to the bed instead. Then you can wiggle and twitch all you want, you won’t make me fall over.”
“Wiggle and twitch?” Dean huffed offended.
“Wiggle, twitch, shudder and beg.” Sam smirked.
Dean tried to keep looking mad, but he failed miserably. Seeing Sam’s smirk made him smirk as well. “Next time?”
“Uhuh.” Sam nodded and settled down more comfortably, wrapping an arm around Dean and pulling him close. Dean was so wiped out, he went willingly. Not like he needed to be wiped out, but it was always nice to have an alibi for the girly stuff.
“I believe you have a date with the hood of the Impala first.” Dean grinned up at him.
“We’ll see.” Sam brought the covers up around them and they both closed their eyes, mentally planning out their respective ‘next time’s and in no time at all they had both fallen asleep.