Fic: Bound And Restricted (You Will Be The Death Of Me) (Sam/Dean, NC-17)
Title: Bound And Restricted (You Will Be The Death Of Me)
Author: waterofthemoon
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Supernatural)
Summary: After the events of All Hell Breaks Loose, Dean falls into a funk, but Sam has a cure.
Spoilers: 2x21-2x22 All Hell Breaks Loose
Word Count: 1,613
Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, it would probably be a very different show.
Notes: I ended up missing the deadline by a few hours, but this was written for slashfest based on (a loose interpretation of) wendy's prompt. Instabetaed by unperfectwolf IN MY HOUSE because she loves me. ♥ Originally posted here.
Bound And Restricted (You Will Be The Death Of Me)
So Dean knows he's been a little down lately, whatever. It's been five weeks, three days, and seventeen hours since he made the deal, and he thinks maybe he's earned it, all things considered. The hunts are getting more difficult, and he isn't sleeping well, not even on the nights when he and Sam wind up sharing a bed and wake up naked and wound tight around each other.
Maybe especially on those nights-Sam's always been a stubborn bitch, even for a Winchester, and he practically quivers with determination these days, spends half his time making promises and looking for answers. It's all more than Dean can take, and too often he finds himself wishing that Sam would just stop for a second and let him live out his year in peace. Let him spend his last days drinking Sam in instead of watching him search endlessly for things that aren't there.
So he's been a little out of it, but that still doesn't give Sam the right to wake him up by straddling his chest, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he secures the belt binding Dean's hands to the headboard. "You got about three seconds to explain, Sammy," he says, glaring at Sam and trying to make his tone as menacing as possible. Which isn't actually all that menacing, considering he just woke up and it's Sam climbing all over him, and if Dean's honest with himself, he's more than a little intrigued and turned on by the whole thing. Not that he's telling Sam that.
Sam blinks down at him and smiles. "Oh, you're awake," he says. "Hold still, I'm almost done."
Just for that, Dean pulls hard against the leather strap, still glaring. It's not that he exactly minds a bit of bondage every now and then, but it's the principle of the thing. Sam shouldn't have been able to get the jump on him without him knowing about it, and here he is all smug smiles as he climbs off the bed, and what the fuck, seriously. "Sam," he says. It's a warning, but Sam ignores that part.
"You really are out of it," Sam says, chuckling. "You think I haven't noticed you pulling away from me? Man, I'm sick of you treating me like I'm going to break, and I'm sick of you trying to hide inside your own head. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."
Dean flinches at that. "And?" he grinds out. "Ain't your job to worry about me."
"It is my job when you're falling down on the hunt, trying to throw yourself in the path of every evil thing we come across-even more than usual," Sam spits, his eyes flashing with anger. He sighs and looks away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck before meeting Dean's eyes again. "Look, Dean, you're my brother. I care about you, and I don't want to see you hurting yourself like this," he says softly. "If you want me around, you're just gonna have to put up with that."
"Yeah, so, what're you gonna do about it," Dean grumps. He knows Sam's right, but that doesn't make it any easier to hear.
"So I was thinking I'd pull you out of it," Sam says, as if the answer were obvious. He gives Dean a wry smile. "Bring you back to the land of the living."
Dean stares at him, all skepticism. "And just how were you planning to do that?"
Sam grins. "I can think of a few ways." Without warning, he climbs on top of Dean again, this time with intent darkening his hazel eyes. He settles in between Dean's legs, covering Dean's body with his own when he bends to kiss Dean on the mouth, raw and dirty. Dean makes pleased noises and arches up into the kiss, but Sam pulls away just as quickly, sucking on Dean's lower lip obscenely as they separate.
Dean feels it more than hears it when Sam's mouth moves up to murmur in his ear. "Gonna fuck you so good, Dean," Sam says. He tongues Dean's earlobe, and Dean shivers at the feel of Sam's hot breath on the damp skin. "You want that? You want me to put my mouth and hands all over you, want me to press in deep and fuck you so hard you feel me for days, and not let you do a damn thing about it? Huh?" Sam nips at Dean's earlobe, making him squirm.
"God, Sammy," Dean rasps out. "Yeah. Always want you." They've barely started, and already he needs to touch, needs to get his hands on Sam. Dean tugs impatiently on the belt, whimpering as Sam sucks on his collarbone. Sam just looks at him with heavy-lidded eyes and moves down to graze teeth across one of Dean's nipples just the way he likes it. They both know Dean won't seriously try to escape, even though he can get out any time he wants.
Sam slides down Dean's body, the soft cotton of his t-shirt rubbing against Dean's bare belly. They're both hard in their boxers; Dean tries to rut up against Sam in desperate search of friction, but Sam raises his hips to hover just out of reach. "Not yet, Dean," he says, his voice gone low and dark. "You don't get to come yet."
"You're such a little bitch," Dean whines, even though he doesn't mean it. Sam smirks and opens his mouth over Dean's abs, traces the cut muscles and counts Dean's ribs with his tongue. Dean feels himself trembling on the rough sheets as Sam moves down to his stomach and presses hot kisses down the trail of hair that leads below Dean's waistband, then hooks his fingers in the sides of Dean's boxers and slides them down and off.
He's naked under Sam now, feeling every shift and slide of his brother against him, and Sam's openly staring, licking his lips unselfconsciously as his eyes travel down the length of Dean's body. Dean feels like he's under a microscope. "No fair, dude," he says. "You gotta get naked, too."
Sam laughs. "I'm getting there," he promises, stripping his t-shirt off and slipping both hands under Dean's thighs to squeeze his ass possessively. Dean yelps in protest, but Sam keeps kneading his ass and the backs of his thighs with long fingers and wide palms until Dean's pushing down into his hands and letting Sam lift his hips up. Sam mouths at Dean's hips and rubs his morning stubble against Dean's thighs but doesn't go anywhere near his aching cock, and Dean whimpers in frustration.
"C'mon, Sammy, please." He tries again to thrust his hips up and get some relief. "Want-want you-"
Sam raises his head to give Dean a sinful smirk before lowering it again, and Dean almost cries in anticipation of Sam's mouth wrapped around his cock. When he feels the tip of Sam's tongue pressing lightly at his entrance instead, he very nearly bucks Sam off. "Fuck, Sam, keep doing that," he moans.
Sam teases his tongue in the cleft of Dean's ass. "I told you you'd like it," he says smugly. "Still can't believe you've never had a good rimming, dude."
"Yeah, well," Dean says. "You gonna get on with it or what?"
Sam does, spreading Dean's cheeks for better access and pushing in with hot, short strokes until he has Dean seeing stars. "Fuck, you taste good," Sam groans against him. "So pretty like this, Dean."
Dean feels like he's burning up from the inside, his brains liquefying with every thrust of Sam's tongue. Sam drives him to the edge and brings him back, and he moans and writhes shamelessly on the bed, pulling hard against the headboard. "Please, Sammy, need to feel, need to touch you," he begs.
"Yeah, yeah, come on," Sam mutters, yanking off his boxers and grabbing the lube off the nightstand. He nudges Dean's thighs up again and thrusts in two slick fingers, and Dean groans at the fresh intrusion.
"Do it, fuck, Sam, yeah," he babbles as Sam crooks his fingers just right. He doesn't know what he's saying anymore, doesn't know anything outside Sam leaning over him, his sweaty bangs hanging in his eyes.
Sam pulls out and sits back on his heels. He fists his cock slowly, biting his lip as he slicks himself up, and Dean whimpers under his breath at the sight. "Fuck, fuck me, come on." He flexes his fingers against the slats of the headboard as Sam obliges, lining up and pushing inside Dean in one smooth thrust.
Sam fucks him hard and deep just like he promised, straight down into the mattress. They aren't teasing anymore, and Dean wraps his legs around Sam's waist to pull him closer. "Gonna save you, Dean," Sam grunts fiercely into his ear. "Won't-won't let it happen. You're mine, you aren't going anywhere." Dean's not sure whether he believes him, but he comes like a freight train just the same, shaking and helpless as Sam thrusts into him.
Sam follows soon after, collapsing onto Dean, and he nuzzles Dean's chest before rolling off him and stretching up to unbuckle the leather belt. As soon as he's free, Dean tugs Sam into his arms and runs his hands all over the expanses of Sam's sweat-slick skin, relearning the dips and planes he already knows by heart.
"Mmm," Sam murmurs. "Better?"
Dean grunts in response and presses his face into Sam's shoulder. He feels Sam's arms wrap around him and pull him close just before he falls into a sound sleep.
Author: waterofthemoon
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Supernatural)
Summary: After the events of All Hell Breaks Loose, Dean falls into a funk, but Sam has a cure.
Spoilers: 2x21-2x22 All Hell Breaks Loose
Word Count: 1,613
Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, it would probably be a very different show.
Notes: I ended up missing the deadline by a few hours, but this was written for slashfest based on (a loose interpretation of) wendy's prompt. Instabetaed by unperfectwolf IN MY HOUSE because she loves me. ♥ Originally posted here.
Bound And Restricted (You Will Be The Death Of Me)
So Dean knows he's been a little down lately, whatever. It's been five weeks, three days, and seventeen hours since he made the deal, and he thinks maybe he's earned it, all things considered. The hunts are getting more difficult, and he isn't sleeping well, not even on the nights when he and Sam wind up sharing a bed and wake up naked and wound tight around each other.
Maybe especially on those nights-Sam's always been a stubborn bitch, even for a Winchester, and he practically quivers with determination these days, spends half his time making promises and looking for answers. It's all more than Dean can take, and too often he finds himself wishing that Sam would just stop for a second and let him live out his year in peace. Let him spend his last days drinking Sam in instead of watching him search endlessly for things that aren't there.
So he's been a little out of it, but that still doesn't give Sam the right to wake him up by straddling his chest, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he secures the belt binding Dean's hands to the headboard. "You got about three seconds to explain, Sammy," he says, glaring at Sam and trying to make his tone as menacing as possible. Which isn't actually all that menacing, considering he just woke up and it's Sam climbing all over him, and if Dean's honest with himself, he's more than a little intrigued and turned on by the whole thing. Not that he's telling Sam that.
Sam blinks down at him and smiles. "Oh, you're awake," he says. "Hold still, I'm almost done."
Just for that, Dean pulls hard against the leather strap, still glaring. It's not that he exactly minds a bit of bondage every now and then, but it's the principle of the thing. Sam shouldn't have been able to get the jump on him without him knowing about it, and here he is all smug smiles as he climbs off the bed, and what the fuck, seriously. "Sam," he says. It's a warning, but Sam ignores that part.
"You really are out of it," Sam says, chuckling. "You think I haven't noticed you pulling away from me? Man, I'm sick of you treating me like I'm going to break, and I'm sick of you trying to hide inside your own head. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."
Dean flinches at that. "And?" he grinds out. "Ain't your job to worry about me."
"It is my job when you're falling down on the hunt, trying to throw yourself in the path of every evil thing we come across-even more than usual," Sam spits, his eyes flashing with anger. He sighs and looks away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck before meeting Dean's eyes again. "Look, Dean, you're my brother. I care about you, and I don't want to see you hurting yourself like this," he says softly. "If you want me around, you're just gonna have to put up with that."
"Yeah, so, what're you gonna do about it," Dean grumps. He knows Sam's right, but that doesn't make it any easier to hear.
"So I was thinking I'd pull you out of it," Sam says, as if the answer were obvious. He gives Dean a wry smile. "Bring you back to the land of the living."
Dean stares at him, all skepticism. "And just how were you planning to do that?"
Sam grins. "I can think of a few ways." Without warning, he climbs on top of Dean again, this time with intent darkening his hazel eyes. He settles in between Dean's legs, covering Dean's body with his own when he bends to kiss Dean on the mouth, raw and dirty. Dean makes pleased noises and arches up into the kiss, but Sam pulls away just as quickly, sucking on Dean's lower lip obscenely as they separate.
Dean feels it more than hears it when Sam's mouth moves up to murmur in his ear. "Gonna fuck you so good, Dean," Sam says. He tongues Dean's earlobe, and Dean shivers at the feel of Sam's hot breath on the damp skin. "You want that? You want me to put my mouth and hands all over you, want me to press in deep and fuck you so hard you feel me for days, and not let you do a damn thing about it? Huh?" Sam nips at Dean's earlobe, making him squirm.
"God, Sammy," Dean rasps out. "Yeah. Always want you." They've barely started, and already he needs to touch, needs to get his hands on Sam. Dean tugs impatiently on the belt, whimpering as Sam sucks on his collarbone. Sam just looks at him with heavy-lidded eyes and moves down to graze teeth across one of Dean's nipples just the way he likes it. They both know Dean won't seriously try to escape, even though he can get out any time he wants.
Sam slides down Dean's body, the soft cotton of his t-shirt rubbing against Dean's bare belly. They're both hard in their boxers; Dean tries to rut up against Sam in desperate search of friction, but Sam raises his hips to hover just out of reach. "Not yet, Dean," he says, his voice gone low and dark. "You don't get to come yet."
"You're such a little bitch," Dean whines, even though he doesn't mean it. Sam smirks and opens his mouth over Dean's abs, traces the cut muscles and counts Dean's ribs with his tongue. Dean feels himself trembling on the rough sheets as Sam moves down to his stomach and presses hot kisses down the trail of hair that leads below Dean's waistband, then hooks his fingers in the sides of Dean's boxers and slides them down and off.
He's naked under Sam now, feeling every shift and slide of his brother against him, and Sam's openly staring, licking his lips unselfconsciously as his eyes travel down the length of Dean's body. Dean feels like he's under a microscope. "No fair, dude," he says. "You gotta get naked, too."
Sam laughs. "I'm getting there," he promises, stripping his t-shirt off and slipping both hands under Dean's thighs to squeeze his ass possessively. Dean yelps in protest, but Sam keeps kneading his ass and the backs of his thighs with long fingers and wide palms until Dean's pushing down into his hands and letting Sam lift his hips up. Sam mouths at Dean's hips and rubs his morning stubble against Dean's thighs but doesn't go anywhere near his aching cock, and Dean whimpers in frustration.
"C'mon, Sammy, please." He tries again to thrust his hips up and get some relief. "Want-want you-"
Sam raises his head to give Dean a sinful smirk before lowering it again, and Dean almost cries in anticipation of Sam's mouth wrapped around his cock. When he feels the tip of Sam's tongue pressing lightly at his entrance instead, he very nearly bucks Sam off. "Fuck, Sam, keep doing that," he moans.
Sam teases his tongue in the cleft of Dean's ass. "I told you you'd like it," he says smugly. "Still can't believe you've never had a good rimming, dude."
"Yeah, well," Dean says. "You gonna get on with it or what?"
Sam does, spreading Dean's cheeks for better access and pushing in with hot, short strokes until he has Dean seeing stars. "Fuck, you taste good," Sam groans against him. "So pretty like this, Dean."
Dean feels like he's burning up from the inside, his brains liquefying with every thrust of Sam's tongue. Sam drives him to the edge and brings him back, and he moans and writhes shamelessly on the bed, pulling hard against the headboard. "Please, Sammy, need to feel, need to touch you," he begs.
"Yeah, yeah, come on," Sam mutters, yanking off his boxers and grabbing the lube off the nightstand. He nudges Dean's thighs up again and thrusts in two slick fingers, and Dean groans at the fresh intrusion.
"Do it, fuck, Sam, yeah," he babbles as Sam crooks his fingers just right. He doesn't know what he's saying anymore, doesn't know anything outside Sam leaning over him, his sweaty bangs hanging in his eyes.
Sam pulls out and sits back on his heels. He fists his cock slowly, biting his lip as he slicks himself up, and Dean whimpers under his breath at the sight. "Fuck, fuck me, come on." He flexes his fingers against the slats of the headboard as Sam obliges, lining up and pushing inside Dean in one smooth thrust.
Sam fucks him hard and deep just like he promised, straight down into the mattress. They aren't teasing anymore, and Dean wraps his legs around Sam's waist to pull him closer. "Gonna save you, Dean," Sam grunts fiercely into his ear. "Won't-won't let it happen. You're mine, you aren't going anywhere." Dean's not sure whether he believes him, but he comes like a freight train just the same, shaking and helpless as Sam thrusts into him.
Sam follows soon after, collapsing onto Dean, and he nuzzles Dean's chest before rolling off him and stretching up to unbuckle the leather belt. As soon as he's free, Dean tugs Sam into his arms and runs his hands all over the expanses of Sam's sweat-slick skin, relearning the dips and planes he already knows by heart.
"Mmm," Sam murmurs. "Better?"
Dean grunts in response and presses his face into Sam's shoulder. He feels Sam's arms wrap around him and pull him close just before he falls into a sound sleep.