Title: Our Needs Satisfied
Author:
xephwritesPairings: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1601
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of its characters. Just playing with toys that are not mine. I promise to return them (mostly) undamaged!
Spoilers: None specifically
Summary: Dean and Sam both have different needs, but they can satisfy them together
Warnings: Dark!Dean, dark!Sam, torture, bloodplay, m/m sex, Wincest. If there's anything I've missed that I should warn for, please let me know.
Notes: So this is just my twisted little "what if", with Dean coming back from Hell and enjoying torturing and is okay with Sam's demon blood addiction.
EDIT:
Now in Polish! by
lucyannethropy!
~*~*~*~*~
Dean entered the abandoned warehouse, hands in his jacket pocket and a smile on his face. The text message he received was perfect timing. He was itching badly, and this would soothe him just right.
He’d probably be a wreck if it weren’t for Sammy. Or in jail.
He walked towards a small door that he could see faint light coming from. Nudging it open with his boot, he peered inside.
The room was lit by a single, naked bulb. Just past the area where the light touched, Dean saw a small cart holding a variety of things. Dean smiled and reminded himself to thank Sammy. Inside the light, a man lay on a table, bound by invisible ropes. The man was struggling, his eyes flying wildly over the room. Dean took careful steps forward. He enjoyed watching their fear a little too much.
“Please!” The man on the table begged. “I know that you’re there. Please let me go!” Dean stepped into the light.
“And what makes you think that I would?” Dean asked as he eyed the Devil’s Trap painted on the floor. The man’s head slammed back on to the table.
“Fuck!” The demon shouted. Dean’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement as a lazy smile spread on his face.
“Oh, so I suppose no introductions are necessary.” Dean drawled, stepping closer to the table.
“You don’t scare me!” The man spat. “You have no idea how long Alistair had me on his rack. There’s nothing you could do to me that he didn’t already do.” Dean chuckled.
“I’m not here to scare you.” Dean said, admiring the selection of torturous items Sam had laid out for him. Dean picked up a small handful of salt and walked back to the table. “I just want to have some fun.”
The man’s eyes went black and he screamed as Dean sprinkled the salt over his face. Not enough to burn badly, but enough to sting, and be annoying.
“Figured out who caught you yet?” Dean asked, smirking. The demon huffed, staring at Dean. Dean walked back over to the tray of items. He picked up a spray bottle of holy water. He chuckled a bit at the idea of it. Only his Sammy would think of that. He squeezed the trigger over his shoulder, and the demon screamed. Dean chuckled again, placing the bottle back.
“If he caught me, where the fuck is he?” The demon rasped. Dean faced the demon and shrugged. On cue, they heard heavy steps approach.
Dean felt strong arms wrap around his waist and a chin rest on his shoulder. Dean laced his fingers with Sam’s and leaned back into his brother’s strong warm body. Sam’s breathing was ragged and desperate. He’d been itching for a while too.
Dean untangled himself from Sam’s embrace and took one of the many knives off the table. He made a deep cut in the demon’s bicep. As the blood welled to the surface, Sam whimpered. Dean nodded, and Sam all but crawled to where the blood was dripping. He placed his mouth over the cut and hummed as he lapped the blood. Dean’s hand came out and stroked Sam’s hair as he drank from the demon.
“Enough for now.” Dean whispered, cupping Sam’s chin. Sam whined as he pulled away. His lips and chin were smeared in red. Dean felt his cock twitch in his jeans. Sam’s hand cupped Dean through his jeans and rubbed. Dean closed his eyes and moaned softly. He looked down into Sam’s desperate hazel eyes. “Soon, Sammy.” He whispered and trailed a thumb over his brother’s cheek. Sam nodded and took out two bowls from under the table. He stood and placed them under both of the demon’s hands.
Still holding the knife, Dean made a long cut down the demon’s forearm. The demon screamed.
“Oh yeah.” Dean smiled as he walked to the other side of the table. “I forgot that this was dipped in salt and holy water. Does it hurt?” Dean asked as he made an identical cut on the other arm. Both cuts bled, and the bowls Sam had set out caught every drop. Dean lifted up the demon’s t-shirt, exposing the skin. He trailed the tip of the blade along the borrowed flesh.
Sam was now kneeling in front of Dean, nuzzling his crotch, staring up at Dean with desperate eyes.
“Soon, Sammy,” Dean whispered, running his hand along the side of Sam’s face. “I promise. Just let me play.”
Dean cut the t-shirt off the demon’s chest, dragging the tip of the blade along his chest. The cut was shallow, and small droplets of blood welled up. The demon screamed again. Dean smiled and unbuckled his belt with his free hand. Sam undid the button and zipper, pulling the denim and cotton boxers off his hips. Dean’s half hard dick sprang free, the cool air in the warehouse touching his heated flesh. Dean moaned softly as Sam began trailing his fingers along the length.
Dean threaded one hand into Sam’s hair and pulled his head forward. He made a shallow stab in between two ribs. The demon screeched, his eyes going black. He tightened his grip in Sam’s hair as Sam’s tongue darted out and licked the precome gathering at the tip.
As Sam swallowed all of Dean’s length. Dean dragged the blade between the ribs, slicing the demon open. He pulled the blade out and went to the next set as Sam bobbed up and down.
As Sam groaned contentedly, sucking up and down his brother’s cock, Dean slid the blade between each of the demon’s ribs. Dean groaned in combined contentment of the torture and the pleasure Sam was giving him.
“You’re a sick fuck!” The demon spat. Dean laughed, ending it with a soft moan as Sam swallowed around his dick.
“Did they not warn you about us when they sent you topside,” Dean asked, pulling Sam off of his dick. Sam whimpered and stared longingly at Dean. Dean held the bloodied blade down and Sam licked it clean, his expression softening. The demon banged his head against the table again.
The smell of the blood was overwhelming. Dean watched the change in Sam’s posture as the demon blood worked it’s way through his system. Dean pulled Sam up from the floor and kissed his blood stained mouth. The tang of demon’s blood was different than human blood. It had a faint sulfuric taste and it burned slightly everywhere it touched. It did nothing for Dean, but he knew that Sam loved tasting the blood on Dean.
“Just fucking do it already!” The demon yelled. Dean kept kissing his brother. Dean undid Sam’s pants, letting them fall to his feet. Sam was hard and leaking. He rutted up against Dean’s hip, trying to get as much friction as he could. Dean turned him around roughly and pressed on his shoulders. Sam fell forward, his hands resting on the table.
The demon tried to pull away from Sam. Dean leaned down and dragged his fingers through the bowl of demon blood on the floor and circled them around Sam’s hole. Sam pushed backwards, the muscle twitching in anticipation.
Dean thrust both in at the same time, making Sam groan loudly. Dean twisted them around, stretching and searching for Sam’s prostate. He found it and pressed down hard. Sam’s back arched and he howled in pleasure. Dean took a bit more of the blood from the bowl and spread it on his own dick. The light burning sensation made his breath hitch.
He pushed inside Sam slowly, savoring the tight heat. Inch by inch he sank in until his hips rested against the soft skin of Sam’s ass.
“Do it,” Dean growled as he started thrusting shallowly. Sam picked up Dean’s knife and made a deep cut in the demon’s side. The demon shrieked as the blood started spilling out. Sam fastened his mouth over the cut and drank as Dean kept pushing faster and faster into him.
Dean’s grunts and Sam’s muffled moans mingled with the pained noises the demon made. Heat pooled in Dean’s stomach as he pushed harder into Sam. He reached forward for the knife, never breaking his rhythm. Dean hovered the point of the knife above the demon’s borrowed heart.
“That won’t kill me,” the demon choked out. Dean plunged the blade in, savoring the scream. His hips stuttered as he released the handle and grabbed Sam’s hips.
“Now, Sammy,” Dean grunted. Sam pulled away from the wound and held up one shaky hand. Sam closed his hand and black smoke began to pour out of every cut in the demon’s body. The demon screamed and that was all Dean needed. He slammed into Sam one last time and came. He spilled in his brother, his loud groan echoing. Sam dug his fingers into one of the wounds and lapped at the last of the blood pouring out. Dean reached around and started to fist Sam’s cock.
A few hard strokes from Dean’s hand and Sam was coming all over the floor, a low whine coming from him.
The smell of sex and demon blood mixed into a heady, heavy aroma. Dean and Sam stood in each other’s arms, enjoying the afterglow.
“You bottle it, I burn the body?” Dean asked, placing small kisses along Sam’s neck. Sam nodded.
“You ever find it ironic that I run out of blood right around the same time you need to torture someone?”
“Never,” Dean said, nibbling along Sam’s shoulder. “I think it’s perfect.”
~*~*~*~*~
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