Fanfic - SPN: Smarty No-Pants (NC-17, Slash: Dean/Sam)
Title: Smarty No-Pants (or, It's Hard to Sound Smart with Dick in Your Mouth)
Author: eboniorchid
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Prompt: "Supernatural, Sam/Dean, 'No, Sam! I am NOT gonna 'role play'!'" for write_light at the Comment Porn Month, Day 18: Role Playing. "090-Silly" for 100moods, challenge table here. "045-Role Play" for 50kinkyways, challenge table here.
Word Count: ~3300 words.
Rating: NC-17 for sexuality and language.
Warnings/Spoilers: Kink. BDSM. D/s. Roleplay (bully/nerd). Body part kink (hair). Hair-pulling. Breath play. Clothing kink (glasses). Costumes. Fisting. Humiliation. Manipulation. Orgasm control/denial. Raunch (sweat). Humor (only slightly cracky). Established relationship. Comment!fic. PWP. Smut. Wincest. Slash. Graphic m/m sex. Vaguely set in and vaguely spoilery through S4.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Bully!Dean + Nerd!Sam = kinky sex with glasses!
Soundtrack: "Violence Fetish" by Disturbed (lyrics).
Author's Notes: Dude, I do not write top!Dean. I don't know how this happened! Apparently my boys are total dorks! *is shamed, except kinda not* Maybe this is also for demondean a little. Possibly.
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"No! I am not gonna 'role play'! Are you out of your freaking mind?!"
He'd said it hours ago and then gone to the bar on his own, Sam hanging back to mope or brood or whatever. The guy wanted to do every single stupid thing on his list, as if they had time, as if it made sense, and Dean was damn indulgent, he thought. He'd even worn the tux again. Once. He didn't 'role play' outside of jobs, though, not unless he counted the strategic life stories he offered with booze and broad smiles. When he got back to the motel, though, a little tipsy but really not drunk, something just under his heart leapt into strange territory at the sight of his brother.
Sam was sitting on his bed with his hair slicked back, sporting a curlicue in the front like a superman comic. A taped-together pair of black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and a white button-down shirt covered his chest and half of his definitely-not-nerdy arms, all the while holding up a flock of pens in his brand-new pocket protector. Sam's pants, just a little too short for his too-long legs, were khaki and pressed with fresh creases and, instead of a belt, there seemed to be rainbow suspenders involved.
The rough-and-tumble boy in the back of Dean's mind shouted for him to snap those ugly multicolored rubber-bands and give his brother a wedgie and knuckle his geek head until he cried 'uncle'. Visions of his grinning vicious self swam up to blot out the sight of Sam's preppy loafers and, really, the rest of the room. It didn't help that the kid was reading a battered computer programming book. "Hey! Four-eyes!"
Sam's lip tugged toward a smile for a moment and then flipped to a hesitant but serious smugness as he set aside his book and pushed up his glasses. "Technically, I only have two eyes. Or can't you count, you big dumb jock?"
"Oh ..." Dean's smirk clicked in, bright and hard, fingers itching for forcible contact. "You're gonna get it now, nerd."
Dean lunged for Sam, who rolled off the bed like no nerd Dean had ever met, making up for it with the most cock-teasing little squeak, like he was maybe actually scared instead of quietly laughing his head off. Dean caught up to him on the other side of the room, though, as there really wasn't any place to go and the point was probably to get caught anyway. Crowding Sam against the corner wall, Dean hooked his fingers under those ridiculous suspenders, pulling and laughing even as Sam scrunched his face and looked away. They made an excellently sharp noise as they reconnected with Sam's body and Sam likely didn't need to fake his yelp of minor pain.
"You know what, pipsqueak?" And yeah, maybe Sam was taller than him, but that didn't matter for the rightness of this. Sam had never been the cooler one. How many times had he wanted to call his brother out for being so square and straight-laced, so bookish and stupidly serious about everything except the shit that mattered like family and fun. This was like a teenage do-over and he'd be damned if Sam didn't get the point. "Can't learn everything from books, dude." His fingers were already tearing into the buttons of Sam's shirt, his suspenders popping loose as Dean pulled up to untuck his pristine shirt before letting his fingers find the back of Sam's cotton briefs and yank. His brother made a pained whine, rife with surprise.
"Dean!"
"Mmm." Dean grunted happily, sealing off any more of Sam's protests with a lip-by-lip lock, his tongue taking a slow survey of his brother's mouth before conquering it harshly with sucking and licking, biting the moans from it. He could feel his brother's cock swell through the fabric pressed against his hip and didn't resist the urge to grind them together. His fingers weren't done yet, though, twitching where they'd settled under rumpled cotton, curled around Sam's sides. They traced the hard-packed muscles of Sam's abdomen, quickly climbing to his chest, and before Dean had even thought it all the way through, they were wrapped, fingers and thumbs, around Sam's nipples. Then they twisted and twisted more until Sam whimpered urgently into Dean's mouth, both their hips friction-hot from trying to get off with too many clothes on.
When Dean finally pulled away, Sam looked like he'd been tormented by a brutally sexual bully: his lips red and panting, his specs skewed precariously, his shirt tumbling out of his well-ironed pants, and his suspenders bouncing crazily over his shoulders. Even his well-protected pens had been displaced, scattering themselves over the floor. Dean only wanted more, though, and when he reached up to grab Sam's not-quite-mussed-enough hair, Sam didn't resist, even as he was shoved to his knees, his face pressed into the nook between Dean's thigh and his groin.
"You smell that, geek?"
"Your stink?" It came out a little breathy, not quite as smug as before, but Dean had no problems knuckling down and yanking up on the little fuck's hair until he gasped with a pleading tone on the end. "Okay okay."
"That's what a man smells like when he's been out working all day and drinking all night." He rubbed his brother's face into it, deeper. "Take a good hard whiff ... you're gonna be licking it clean in a minute."
"I will- ..." His words cut off with an ache-full whimper as Dean twisted his hair more tightly between strong fingers.
"Tell me, little buddy, just who do you think is in charge here, huh?" Sam shuddered in a warm line down Dean's leg, long before he could seem to put words together. "I'll give you a hint." He tugged Sam's hair and got another gasp just for good measure. "It ain't you."
Breathing hard, a tiny furnace against Dean's jeans, Sam finally stumbled into the words. "Umm ... you?"
"That's right. Maybe you are smart. Of course, if you're real smart, you'll figure out how to get my dick out of my pants and give it a good suck. Maybe then you can avoid the world of hurt you've got coming." He yanked again and got a whimper that made his dick ache. Goddamnit, Sam's hair was damn near as good as a leash.
"Yeah okay." Sam's hands slid up Dean's thighs, shaky but determined, before opening Dean's fly and drawing out his Dean-designated salvation. Sam didn't quite seem to get it, though, and Dean's grin was almost cruel above his head.
"All of it. Balls too. Wait- ... Here, let me help you with that." His free hand pushed at the waistbands of his boxers and jeans, one side and then the other, until they were past his thighs and fell in a heap at Sam's knees. Sam glared up at him, but Dean just smiled. "Maybe if you don't suck at sucking, you might even get off tonight."
One of Sam's hands wandered self-consciously to the tent at his own half-open fly and Dean didn't even blink before pulling hard enough on Sam's hair to make his eyes water.
"Oh no you don't, Sammy." Dean's smile became something harsh, wholly in control here in a way he couldn't be much of anywhere else. "Tonight you come on my schedule or not at all." It was thrilling, if shocking, to see Sam's eyes widen when he realized that his brother was serious. Dean just chuckled and licked his lips, though, not sure that he cared right then if this was proof of his edging towards insanity. "Now … be a good little nerd and get to studying my dick."
Sam swallowed, but refocused as Dean guided him back in, his nose pressed against the side of Dean's cock, and Dean grunted lazy interest as Sam's tongue began to take short soft licks of the skin there. Sam didn't take long to wander down to Dean's sac, though, his lips pressing reverent kisses before his tongue swiped away sweat until Dean was rubbing his cock steadily against his face. Every bend and fold and crevice was awash with the wet heat of Sam's mouth and Dean groaned, both from the feel and from the thought of dirtying Sam's too-clean mouth, filling Sam's senses with his taste and his scent, marking Sam's face like a fucking claimed animal. Mine.
"Yeah, like that." He inhaled deep, torn between making Sam choke on his dick and getting to smell himself on Sam as he fucked him. No, he didn't want to decide and he wouldn't. His schedule, right? He'd get both.
"Suck my cock." It was a command and he knew it, reveled in it, made sure Sam had no room to resist it, and he groaned gratefully as Sam took his cock into his mouth, not messing around with that playing-only-with-the-head shit.
Sam was halfway down before things started to get a bit harder for him and he tried to bob back up again. Dean let him up a little, just enough to breathe, but then he fucked into Sam's mouth deeper, the tip of his cock pushing past Sam's gag reflex to feel a delicious tightening around the head. Sam's fingers clutched his thighs, alternately digging in and flexing free as Dean worked his way out and then deeper again, setting up a slow hard rhythm that kept Sam repeatedly, relentlessly gagging after every breath. When he finally slammed in and held on forcefully, only shifting his hips enough to fuck over that hot tight inch between Sam's tipping point and the back of his throat, Dean could've sworn he felt pinpricks of cool and wet against his stomach. He didn't even try to stop the orgasm that ripped up from the base of his cock like lightning in reverse, emptying himself down his brother's throat until they were both shaking and gasping for breath.
His fingers felt stiff as they finally unraveled the hold on Sam's hair and he stepped back, leaving his pants, shorts, and boots behind. When he looked down at the thoroughly wrecked expression on Sam's tear- and sweat-slick face, though, Dean thanked god that he'd already come or Sam would be wiping spunk off his fucking unreal eyelashes right then. "Jeezus." The word came out as a sigh as much as a curse and Dean had to close his eyes and breathe for a moment to get his bearings again.
"So ..." Sam's voice shook and then settled as it worked to trust his lungs again. "Can I come now or ... do I have to pay for it some more?"
Dean had been so close to done, so close to crashing on his bed and letting Sam rut against him and jack himself off. But, of course, Sam had to open his mouth, that savagely fucked mouth attached to the raw throat and the swollen lips, and even if Dean's dick wasn't back with the program yet, he knew he wouldn't be content with any quick end to this night. "Well ..." He tried not to pant as he straightened up and opened his eyes, not that it helped much since Sam had neither righted his clothes nor his tornadoed hair. The sick fuck even reached up to straighten his glasses, none-too-innocently taunting him. "Fuck." He laughed, shaking his head as Sam smirked at him, though the effect was altered by the thickness of his lips. "You? On the bed. Now."
Sam slowly started to shift toward standing, but impatience crackled through Dean's body like erotic static and he heard himself saying, "Fuck this. Move!" He grabbed Sam's hair again and dragged him over and onto the bed, face-up, legs spread.
The shoes and suspender-carting pants were the first things he pulled off. If there was a small tearing sound along the way, he just figured he was doing Sam a favor and continued unfazed. He even started grinning, a mix of mania and fondness, as he realized that Sam's briefs had stayed uncomfortably riding halfway up his ass. Who knew wedgies could be a fucking turn-on? He snorted softly as two of his fingers skimmed Sam's thigh and slid into the leg hole of his briefs, their tips emerging from the opposite hole. Then his knuckles brushed Sam's sac as he pulled the underwear down, tugging extra-hard as necessary (and desired) to get them untangled from Sam's cock and thighs and calves. The whole process left them both half naked and breathing hard.
He didn't waste any more time on logistics, though, his body climbing up between Sam's legs, mouth stealing Sam's again as he shoved and dragged them both up the bed to the headboard, then off to the left a bit, so his hands could fumble in the bedside drawer for the lube. The bottle felt different, however, and he paused a moment to actually read the label.
"Mineral oil?"
Sam grinned and straightened his glasses again as his voice leaned just this side of nasal. "I read a mod-blog that said it was good for cooling overheated computer parts, so, you know, I thought it might come in handy."
"Huh." Slowly nodding, Dean blinked at his crazy-fucking-amazingly-wrong brother. "Well ... you'd better hope it cools your ass while I'm fucking it, or you're gonna be teary-eyed in the morning."
Sam just grinned harder and Dean was hell-bent to send him back to being bleary-eyed and word-stumbling, his teeth reclaiming Sam's lips until the leftover flavor of his own cock mixed with the distinctly Sam-like copper aftertaste. One hand poured oil, haphazard, onto the fingers of the other hand, leaving slick trails across Sam's stomach to pool in the dent of one hip. He didn't wait for Sam to breathe with him or otherwise ready himself, though, he just tapped Sam's hole once and began to press the first finger in, fucking it slowly deeper and moving it around. The second finger pushed in even less gently than the first and Sam grunted as he took them both into his body, pressing down on them greedily. Folding the third digit in was harder and the longer grunt said it hurt a bit more, but Dean's cock was swelling up again and he'd be damned if he was going to wait for jack shit when his brother had goaded him into all this.
He fucked Sam hard with the three fingers he'd tucked tight and slippery into his body, loving the way Sam's mouth seemed to tense just a little every time Dean's knuckles threatened the rim of his hole. It made Dean want to force Sam to take more, to ache for him, around and under him. He knew he shouldn't, but his chest swelled for it, his adrenaline-fed heart thundering blood in his ears for it, and he let go of the lube bottle in favor of grabbing Sam's hair again, holding him with no room for leeway as he folded his pinky in with the rest of his fingers and squirmed his way in.
"Fuck fuck." Sam disengaged to gasp against Dean's mouth, his voice strained but his body not really trying to get away. "You trying to break me, man?"
"Maybe." The menace in his own voice made his blood rush like a good high. "I'd sure like to try."
Sam's eyes flashed open, full of heat and promise and challenge, like they were fighting and Sam was seconds away from going full-on berserker. "Do it. Fucking do it!"
Dean's smirk became bit-together teeth as he pulled his fingers out only just enough to pull his thumb in alongside them and push. Groaning, Sam's eyes rolled over and shut and Dean almost thought he'd beg him to stop, but instead his ass slowly clenched and released, pushing and relaxing as Sam worked to pull in more and more of Dean's hand. Moaning himself, Dean buried his face in the crook of Sam's neck, lapping at the skin stretched tight over his brother's deeply vibrating throat. Then when Sam's body settled fully, straining to shivers over the widest part of his hand, Dean thought he might come just from that, just from having his brother's bent body huffing and sweating and quivering under him, quivering around his whole fucking hand.
"Oh god, Dean." Sam's breath hitched at his name and it felt like the most perfect prayer that Dean had ever heard. "Yougottafuckme yougottafuckme. Fuck, I'm gonna come right here."
"No ..." The rich calm in his voice sounded nothing like the butterfly-light IknowIknowIknow fluttering in his gut. "I'm gonna fuck you with my fist ... I'm gonna fuck you with my dick ... and then you're gonna come all over yourself, when you finally understand your place on the fucking food chain ... geek."
"Oh- ..." Shuddering, Sam nodded, his voice split between breathless and broken. "Okay, just- ... F-fuck, just- ... Slow, okay? Just- ... Ohgodohgodohgod!" He babbled senselessly as Dean started to rotate the hand spearing his ass, twisting and burrowing deeper. "Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!"
"Yeah. I'll go slow. Nice and easy. See?"
With the size of his hand and his brother so tight, the fucking was little more than shifting and turning, a half-inch out and a half-inch in again, but Sam's hair was soaked in sweat minutes later, his melted-together words slipping into nonsense sounds that were glued close with gasps and whines and moans. When Sam started to go tense and then shivery-slack under him, though, Dean knew his brother might come without him anyway and he began the slow hard work of pulling out, noting Sam's miserable groan as the last of his sticky fingers came free.
Dean released Sam's hair and let his brother slide back down to the pillows, halfway spectacled, wholly needy, and utterly boneless except for the painfully flushed cock that was straining towards his bellybutton. "And now, you lucky little nerd ... you get to ride my cock." Dumping fresh lube into his palm, he let his hard-working hand jerk him slick as Sam looked down at it, dazed enough to stay mostly silent despite the way his lips parted occasionally, mumbling something too breathy to understand. Sam's overwrought state definitely made things easier than usual, though, when Dean pressed his cock against his brother's entrance and then just sunk in like Sam's muscles were thick pillows easily pushed aside.
Sam finally moaned when Dean's sac connected fully with his spread-wide ass and Dean knew he didn't have to hold back anymore. He was already on the brink and Sam had been there forever, so he put all that was left of his strength and his need and his want into long deep strokes, thrusting hard enough to make both their bodies shake with the kickback. Then when something began to spark, hot and bright, like a lit stick of dynamite at the base of his cock, he wrapped his well-used fingers around his brother's dick and stroked and squeezed and pulled until the world seemed to shake out from under them. The sudden volcano spilling over his hand set off blinding explosions from Dean's cock to the back of his eyes and the curtain of red brilliance he saw made him wonder if maybe his heart had overloaded in ecstasy.
He came-to, nuzzled and panting, against Sam's sweaty collarbone. "... Fuck almighty."
"Yeah." Sam dragged his voice up from mines full of blown-apart boulders and tossed his rim-only glasses onto the nightstand. "I told you, man. … I fucking told you so."
Author: eboniorchid
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Prompt: "Supernatural, Sam/Dean, 'No, Sam! I am NOT gonna 'role play'!'" for write_light at the Comment Porn Month, Day 18: Role Playing. "090-Silly" for 100moods, challenge table here. "045-Role Play" for 50kinkyways, challenge table here.
Word Count: ~3300 words.
Rating: NC-17 for sexuality and language.
Warnings/Spoilers: Kink. BDSM. D/s. Roleplay (bully/nerd). Body part kink (hair). Hair-pulling. Breath play. Clothing kink (glasses). Costumes. Fisting. Humiliation. Manipulation. Orgasm control/denial. Raunch (sweat). Humor (only slightly cracky). Established relationship. Comment!fic. PWP. Smut. Wincest. Slash. Graphic m/m sex. Vaguely set in and vaguely spoilery through S4.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Bully!Dean + Nerd!Sam = kinky sex with glasses!
Soundtrack: "Violence Fetish" by Disturbed (lyrics).
Author's Notes: Dude, I do not write top!Dean. I don't know how this happened! Apparently my boys are total dorks! *is shamed, except kinda not* Maybe this is also for demondean a little. Possibly.
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"No! I am not gonna 'role play'! Are you out of your freaking mind?!"
He'd said it hours ago and then gone to the bar on his own, Sam hanging back to mope or brood or whatever. The guy wanted to do every single stupid thing on his list, as if they had time, as if it made sense, and Dean was damn indulgent, he thought. He'd even worn the tux again. Once. He didn't 'role play' outside of jobs, though, not unless he counted the strategic life stories he offered with booze and broad smiles. When he got back to the motel, though, a little tipsy but really not drunk, something just under his heart leapt into strange territory at the sight of his brother.
Sam was sitting on his bed with his hair slicked back, sporting a curlicue in the front like a superman comic. A taped-together pair of black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and a white button-down shirt covered his chest and half of his definitely-not-nerdy arms, all the while holding up a flock of pens in his brand-new pocket protector. Sam's pants, just a little too short for his too-long legs, were khaki and pressed with fresh creases and, instead of a belt, there seemed to be rainbow suspenders involved.
The rough-and-tumble boy in the back of Dean's mind shouted for him to snap those ugly multicolored rubber-bands and give his brother a wedgie and knuckle his geek head until he cried 'uncle'. Visions of his grinning vicious self swam up to blot out the sight of Sam's preppy loafers and, really, the rest of the room. It didn't help that the kid was reading a battered computer programming book. "Hey! Four-eyes!"
Sam's lip tugged toward a smile for a moment and then flipped to a hesitant but serious smugness as he set aside his book and pushed up his glasses. "Technically, I only have two eyes. Or can't you count, you big dumb jock?"
"Oh ..." Dean's smirk clicked in, bright and hard, fingers itching for forcible contact. "You're gonna get it now, nerd."
Dean lunged for Sam, who rolled off the bed like no nerd Dean had ever met, making up for it with the most cock-teasing little squeak, like he was maybe actually scared instead of quietly laughing his head off. Dean caught up to him on the other side of the room, though, as there really wasn't any place to go and the point was probably to get caught anyway. Crowding Sam against the corner wall, Dean hooked his fingers under those ridiculous suspenders, pulling and laughing even as Sam scrunched his face and looked away. They made an excellently sharp noise as they reconnected with Sam's body and Sam likely didn't need to fake his yelp of minor pain.
"You know what, pipsqueak?" And yeah, maybe Sam was taller than him, but that didn't matter for the rightness of this. Sam had never been the cooler one. How many times had he wanted to call his brother out for being so square and straight-laced, so bookish and stupidly serious about everything except the shit that mattered like family and fun. This was like a teenage do-over and he'd be damned if Sam didn't get the point. "Can't learn everything from books, dude." His fingers were already tearing into the buttons of Sam's shirt, his suspenders popping loose as Dean pulled up to untuck his pristine shirt before letting his fingers find the back of Sam's cotton briefs and yank. His brother made a pained whine, rife with surprise.
"Dean!"
"Mmm." Dean grunted happily, sealing off any more of Sam's protests with a lip-by-lip lock, his tongue taking a slow survey of his brother's mouth before conquering it harshly with sucking and licking, biting the moans from it. He could feel his brother's cock swell through the fabric pressed against his hip and didn't resist the urge to grind them together. His fingers weren't done yet, though, twitching where they'd settled under rumpled cotton, curled around Sam's sides. They traced the hard-packed muscles of Sam's abdomen, quickly climbing to his chest, and before Dean had even thought it all the way through, they were wrapped, fingers and thumbs, around Sam's nipples. Then they twisted and twisted more until Sam whimpered urgently into Dean's mouth, both their hips friction-hot from trying to get off with too many clothes on.
When Dean finally pulled away, Sam looked like he'd been tormented by a brutally sexual bully: his lips red and panting, his specs skewed precariously, his shirt tumbling out of his well-ironed pants, and his suspenders bouncing crazily over his shoulders. Even his well-protected pens had been displaced, scattering themselves over the floor. Dean only wanted more, though, and when he reached up to grab Sam's not-quite-mussed-enough hair, Sam didn't resist, even as he was shoved to his knees, his face pressed into the nook between Dean's thigh and his groin.
"You smell that, geek?"
"Your stink?" It came out a little breathy, not quite as smug as before, but Dean had no problems knuckling down and yanking up on the little fuck's hair until he gasped with a pleading tone on the end. "Okay okay."
"That's what a man smells like when he's been out working all day and drinking all night." He rubbed his brother's face into it, deeper. "Take a good hard whiff ... you're gonna be licking it clean in a minute."
"I will- ..." His words cut off with an ache-full whimper as Dean twisted his hair more tightly between strong fingers.
"Tell me, little buddy, just who do you think is in charge here, huh?" Sam shuddered in a warm line down Dean's leg, long before he could seem to put words together. "I'll give you a hint." He tugged Sam's hair and got another gasp just for good measure. "It ain't you."
Breathing hard, a tiny furnace against Dean's jeans, Sam finally stumbled into the words. "Umm ... you?"
"That's right. Maybe you are smart. Of course, if you're real smart, you'll figure out how to get my dick out of my pants and give it a good suck. Maybe then you can avoid the world of hurt you've got coming." He yanked again and got a whimper that made his dick ache. Goddamnit, Sam's hair was damn near as good as a leash.
"Yeah okay." Sam's hands slid up Dean's thighs, shaky but determined, before opening Dean's fly and drawing out his Dean-designated salvation. Sam didn't quite seem to get it, though, and Dean's grin was almost cruel above his head.
"All of it. Balls too. Wait- ... Here, let me help you with that." His free hand pushed at the waistbands of his boxers and jeans, one side and then the other, until they were past his thighs and fell in a heap at Sam's knees. Sam glared up at him, but Dean just smiled. "Maybe if you don't suck at sucking, you might even get off tonight."
One of Sam's hands wandered self-consciously to the tent at his own half-open fly and Dean didn't even blink before pulling hard enough on Sam's hair to make his eyes water.
"Oh no you don't, Sammy." Dean's smile became something harsh, wholly in control here in a way he couldn't be much of anywhere else. "Tonight you come on my schedule or not at all." It was thrilling, if shocking, to see Sam's eyes widen when he realized that his brother was serious. Dean just chuckled and licked his lips, though, not sure that he cared right then if this was proof of his edging towards insanity. "Now … be a good little nerd and get to studying my dick."
Sam swallowed, but refocused as Dean guided him back in, his nose pressed against the side of Dean's cock, and Dean grunted lazy interest as Sam's tongue began to take short soft licks of the skin there. Sam didn't take long to wander down to Dean's sac, though, his lips pressing reverent kisses before his tongue swiped away sweat until Dean was rubbing his cock steadily against his face. Every bend and fold and crevice was awash with the wet heat of Sam's mouth and Dean groaned, both from the feel and from the thought of dirtying Sam's too-clean mouth, filling Sam's senses with his taste and his scent, marking Sam's face like a fucking claimed animal. Mine.
"Yeah, like that." He inhaled deep, torn between making Sam choke on his dick and getting to smell himself on Sam as he fucked him. No, he didn't want to decide and he wouldn't. His schedule, right? He'd get both.
"Suck my cock." It was a command and he knew it, reveled in it, made sure Sam had no room to resist it, and he groaned gratefully as Sam took his cock into his mouth, not messing around with that playing-only-with-the-head shit.
Sam was halfway down before things started to get a bit harder for him and he tried to bob back up again. Dean let him up a little, just enough to breathe, but then he fucked into Sam's mouth deeper, the tip of his cock pushing past Sam's gag reflex to feel a delicious tightening around the head. Sam's fingers clutched his thighs, alternately digging in and flexing free as Dean worked his way out and then deeper again, setting up a slow hard rhythm that kept Sam repeatedly, relentlessly gagging after every breath. When he finally slammed in and held on forcefully, only shifting his hips enough to fuck over that hot tight inch between Sam's tipping point and the back of his throat, Dean could've sworn he felt pinpricks of cool and wet against his stomach. He didn't even try to stop the orgasm that ripped up from the base of his cock like lightning in reverse, emptying himself down his brother's throat until they were both shaking and gasping for breath.
His fingers felt stiff as they finally unraveled the hold on Sam's hair and he stepped back, leaving his pants, shorts, and boots behind. When he looked down at the thoroughly wrecked expression on Sam's tear- and sweat-slick face, though, Dean thanked god that he'd already come or Sam would be wiping spunk off his fucking unreal eyelashes right then. "Jeezus." The word came out as a sigh as much as a curse and Dean had to close his eyes and breathe for a moment to get his bearings again.
"So ..." Sam's voice shook and then settled as it worked to trust his lungs again. "Can I come now or ... do I have to pay for it some more?"
Dean had been so close to done, so close to crashing on his bed and letting Sam rut against him and jack himself off. But, of course, Sam had to open his mouth, that savagely fucked mouth attached to the raw throat and the swollen lips, and even if Dean's dick wasn't back with the program yet, he knew he wouldn't be content with any quick end to this night. "Well ..." He tried not to pant as he straightened up and opened his eyes, not that it helped much since Sam had neither righted his clothes nor his tornadoed hair. The sick fuck even reached up to straighten his glasses, none-too-innocently taunting him. "Fuck." He laughed, shaking his head as Sam smirked at him, though the effect was altered by the thickness of his lips. "You? On the bed. Now."
Sam slowly started to shift toward standing, but impatience crackled through Dean's body like erotic static and he heard himself saying, "Fuck this. Move!" He grabbed Sam's hair again and dragged him over and onto the bed, face-up, legs spread.
The shoes and suspender-carting pants were the first things he pulled off. If there was a small tearing sound along the way, he just figured he was doing Sam a favor and continued unfazed. He even started grinning, a mix of mania and fondness, as he realized that Sam's briefs had stayed uncomfortably riding halfway up his ass. Who knew wedgies could be a fucking turn-on? He snorted softly as two of his fingers skimmed Sam's thigh and slid into the leg hole of his briefs, their tips emerging from the opposite hole. Then his knuckles brushed Sam's sac as he pulled the underwear down, tugging extra-hard as necessary (and desired) to get them untangled from Sam's cock and thighs and calves. The whole process left them both half naked and breathing hard.
He didn't waste any more time on logistics, though, his body climbing up between Sam's legs, mouth stealing Sam's again as he shoved and dragged them both up the bed to the headboard, then off to the left a bit, so his hands could fumble in the bedside drawer for the lube. The bottle felt different, however, and he paused a moment to actually read the label.
"Mineral oil?"
Sam grinned and straightened his glasses again as his voice leaned just this side of nasal. "I read a mod-blog that said it was good for cooling overheated computer parts, so, you know, I thought it might come in handy."
"Huh." Slowly nodding, Dean blinked at his crazy-fucking-amazingly-wrong brother. "Well ... you'd better hope it cools your ass while I'm fucking it, or you're gonna be teary-eyed in the morning."
Sam just grinned harder and Dean was hell-bent to send him back to being bleary-eyed and word-stumbling, his teeth reclaiming Sam's lips until the leftover flavor of his own cock mixed with the distinctly Sam-like copper aftertaste. One hand poured oil, haphazard, onto the fingers of the other hand, leaving slick trails across Sam's stomach to pool in the dent of one hip. He didn't wait for Sam to breathe with him or otherwise ready himself, though, he just tapped Sam's hole once and began to press the first finger in, fucking it slowly deeper and moving it around. The second finger pushed in even less gently than the first and Sam grunted as he took them both into his body, pressing down on them greedily. Folding the third digit in was harder and the longer grunt said it hurt a bit more, but Dean's cock was swelling up again and he'd be damned if he was going to wait for jack shit when his brother had goaded him into all this.
He fucked Sam hard with the three fingers he'd tucked tight and slippery into his body, loving the way Sam's mouth seemed to tense just a little every time Dean's knuckles threatened the rim of his hole. It made Dean want to force Sam to take more, to ache for him, around and under him. He knew he shouldn't, but his chest swelled for it, his adrenaline-fed heart thundering blood in his ears for it, and he let go of the lube bottle in favor of grabbing Sam's hair again, holding him with no room for leeway as he folded his pinky in with the rest of his fingers and squirmed his way in.
"Fuck fuck." Sam disengaged to gasp against Dean's mouth, his voice strained but his body not really trying to get away. "You trying to break me, man?"
"Maybe." The menace in his own voice made his blood rush like a good high. "I'd sure like to try."
Sam's eyes flashed open, full of heat and promise and challenge, like they were fighting and Sam was seconds away from going full-on berserker. "Do it. Fucking do it!"
Dean's smirk became bit-together teeth as he pulled his fingers out only just enough to pull his thumb in alongside them and push. Groaning, Sam's eyes rolled over and shut and Dean almost thought he'd beg him to stop, but instead his ass slowly clenched and released, pushing and relaxing as Sam worked to pull in more and more of Dean's hand. Moaning himself, Dean buried his face in the crook of Sam's neck, lapping at the skin stretched tight over his brother's deeply vibrating throat. Then when Sam's body settled fully, straining to shivers over the widest part of his hand, Dean thought he might come just from that, just from having his brother's bent body huffing and sweating and quivering under him, quivering around his whole fucking hand.
"Oh god, Dean." Sam's breath hitched at his name and it felt like the most perfect prayer that Dean had ever heard. "Yougottafuckme yougottafuckme. Fuck, I'm gonna come right here."
"No ..." The rich calm in his voice sounded nothing like the butterfly-light IknowIknowIknow fluttering in his gut. "I'm gonna fuck you with my fist ... I'm gonna fuck you with my dick ... and then you're gonna come all over yourself, when you finally understand your place on the fucking food chain ... geek."
"Oh- ..." Shuddering, Sam nodded, his voice split between breathless and broken. "Okay, just- ... F-fuck, just- ... Slow, okay? Just- ... Ohgodohgodohgod!" He babbled senselessly as Dean started to rotate the hand spearing his ass, twisting and burrowing deeper. "Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!"
"Yeah. I'll go slow. Nice and easy. See?"
With the size of his hand and his brother so tight, the fucking was little more than shifting and turning, a half-inch out and a half-inch in again, but Sam's hair was soaked in sweat minutes later, his melted-together words slipping into nonsense sounds that were glued close with gasps and whines and moans. When Sam started to go tense and then shivery-slack under him, though, Dean knew his brother might come without him anyway and he began the slow hard work of pulling out, noting Sam's miserable groan as the last of his sticky fingers came free.
Dean released Sam's hair and let his brother slide back down to the pillows, halfway spectacled, wholly needy, and utterly boneless except for the painfully flushed cock that was straining towards his bellybutton. "And now, you lucky little nerd ... you get to ride my cock." Dumping fresh lube into his palm, he let his hard-working hand jerk him slick as Sam looked down at it, dazed enough to stay mostly silent despite the way his lips parted occasionally, mumbling something too breathy to understand. Sam's overwrought state definitely made things easier than usual, though, when Dean pressed his cock against his brother's entrance and then just sunk in like Sam's muscles were thick pillows easily pushed aside.
Sam finally moaned when Dean's sac connected fully with his spread-wide ass and Dean knew he didn't have to hold back anymore. He was already on the brink and Sam had been there forever, so he put all that was left of his strength and his need and his want into long deep strokes, thrusting hard enough to make both their bodies shake with the kickback. Then when something began to spark, hot and bright, like a lit stick of dynamite at the base of his cock, he wrapped his well-used fingers around his brother's dick and stroked and squeezed and pulled until the world seemed to shake out from under them. The sudden volcano spilling over his hand set off blinding explosions from Dean's cock to the back of his eyes and the curtain of red brilliance he saw made him wonder if maybe his heart had overloaded in ecstasy.
He came-to, nuzzled and panting, against Sam's sweaty collarbone. "... Fuck almighty."
"Yeah." Sam dragged his voice up from mines full of blown-apart boulders and tossed his rim-only glasses onto the nightstand. "I told you, man. … I fucking told you so."