Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 6: I Think We're Alone Now

[justinedelarge]

Title: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 6: I Think We're Alone Now

Author: justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest
Word Count: 2700
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters and plot. Just for fun.
Summary: John and Bobby go into town to pick something up, leaving Sam and Dean all alone.

Request: Comments and encouraging feedback are really appreciated. If you read my fics and like them, please take a moment to let me know. This will encourage me to write more for you.




“Wait.” Sam stopped Dean from tugging down his jeans. “Hold on.” Sam had preternaturally keen hearing, because sure enough, there were heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

Sam quickly pulled his shirt back on.

“Inside out!” Dean whispered. Sam stared in horror, then quickly ripped it off and put it back on right side out.

A gentle rap at the door. “You awake?”

“Yep!” Dean called out casually, sitting on the edge of the bed, untying his boots.

Sam tried to act casual, and failed miserably. Dean smacked him on the shoulder hard. Right then, John swung open the door—and saw Sam glaring at Dean with his epic bitch face, and Dean not even trying to hide the smirk on his face.

It was a perfectly normal tableau.

“Me and Bobby are gonna ride into town and pick up something.” Dean perked up, instantly interested in the strategy of the hunt. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, Dean. You two going to be ok by yourselves?”

Dean and Sam stared at each other, both thinking, Was this a trick question?

“Er, yeah, Dad.” Sam couldn’t quite believe their luck.

“And Dean, stop giving your brother a hard time.”

Sam bit his lip, trying desperately to stifle his laughter.

Dean stared at John with a shocked, innocent expression. “What?”

“You know.”

Dean looked at Sam, palms raised in supplication, playing it up good. “What’d I do?”

“Dean. Be nice to your brother.”

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam could smirk every bit as well as Dean. “Be nice to your brother.”

“Oh, I’ll be real nice to Sammy.” Dean turned to John and practically batted his eyelashes. “I’ll be so good.”

“Don’t be a smartass, Dean. Mind me.”

Dean put on his serious face. “Yessir.”

“And Sam? Don’t get your brother going.”

Sam practically choked. “Sir?”

“You know. Don’t get him worked up.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to try to repress laughter, turning toward the duffle bag on the floor to hide his face.

“Nosir. I’ll be good.”

“Alright. There’s sandwich stuff in the fridge if you want a snack.” He ruffled Sam’s hair, which Sam hated when anyone but Dean did, but tolerated. “And we’ll be gone for a few hours, so don’t wait up.”

~

Sam and Dean stood in the living room watching the taillights of Bobby’s truck dwindle into tiny dots of light on the road.

“Are they really…”

“Gone?”

They stood stock-still, waiting. The lights disappeared, and did not reappear.

“Yeah. They’re really gone.”

Sam and Dean stood in the living room, and looked at each other. Then, as one, they burst into motion and raced each other up the stairs to their room.

Sam peeled off his t-shirt, breathless, laughing. Dean tackled him onto the bed, tickling him, making Sam spasm and laugh helplessly until he squeaked (which always made Dean’s heart grow three sizes at once just like the Grinch).

“Get off me!”

“Oh, that’s not what you want, little brother.” Dean straddled Sam, pinning him down, and tickled Sam’s taut, quivering stomach.

“Cut it out!” Sam batted away Dean’s hands, but Dean redoubled his attack.

“Say please.”

Sam writhed, tears streaming down his face, laughing so hard his face was bright red. “Off… off…”

Dean dug his fingers into Sam’s sides and worked them up underneath his arms. Sam flailed and kicked and finally, finally said, “I give. I give. Please.”

Dean sat back, staring down at Sam, fingers hovering over his stomach. “Please what?”

Sam gasped, trying to catch his breath. “No more. No more tickling.”

“What’ll you do if I stop?”

Sam panted beneath Dean, eyes going heavy with intent. Slowly, deliberately, he laid back and stretched both arms overhead, crossing them at the wrist.  He bit his lip, looking up at Dean, and said, “Anything.”

Dean’s cock twitched and bucked, and Sam’s, right beneath him, answered in kind.

Dean unbuttoned Sam’s jeans. “I do have that promise to keep.”

“Yeah.” Sam’s voice was achingly soft.

“Two, actually.”

Sam cocked his head, like a confused puppy.

“First, I promised to take all your clothes off and eat your ass out like a girl.”

Sam arched his back. He looked so beautiful, so eager, that Dean could hardly contain himself.

“And second? I promised I’d make you scream.”

Dean peeled Sam’s jeans off, stripped him of his socks, slowly worked his boxers off. He stood at the foot of the bed and removed his shirt.

Sam’s eyes went wide, and he propped himself up on his elbows to watch. Dean blushed a little at first, but then went with it remarkably quickly, giving Sam a coy glance as he unbuttoned his jeans, watched Sam lick his lips involuntarily, pulled them down slowly, giving his Sammy a little show.

“Fuck. Dean. You’re so…”

“What?”

Sam shook his head. “Beautiful.”

Naked, Dean crawled up and pushed Sam down gently onto his back. “You’re the one who’s beautiful, Sammy.” He couldn’t keep his eyes off his little brother, all lines of just-developing muscle, soft skin, those incredible eyes, and a cock, fuck, a cock that the Greek gods would envy. And Sam was just getting started.

“Lay back, Sammy. You’re gonna love this. Feels so good.”

Sam let his head fall back. Then he sat up. “How do you know?”

Dean rolled his head in that funny little circle he made instead of saying duh. “Ronda Hurley.”

Sam pursed his lips in that funny little duckface he made instead of saying fair enough.

Dean grazed his fingertips along Sam’s body, feeling every line and curve. He dropped lower, settled between Sam’s thighs, exhaling a warm puff of breath over Sam’s cock, making it twitch.

Dean had gotten a taste for talking to Sam, and he liked it.  He tapped Sam’s thigh. “Open.”

Sam complied, stretching his legs apart for Dean.

“Wider.”

Sam obeyed instantly.

“Fuck. Why don’t you take orders like this when we’re training?”

“You gonna lick my ass on the obstacle course if I do?”

Dean bit down on Sam’s inner thigh. “Don’t tempt me, baby boy.”

Sam gasped. “You do stuff like this, I’ll take any order you give me.”

Dean filed that away for future fucking reference. That could make training real interesting.

Dean tipped Sam’s hips up, pushing his thighs back. Sam blushed furiously.

“Shhh… you look fucking awesome like this. Christ.”

Dean stared down at his little brother, spread open for him, his cock frantically hard and twitching on his flat little belly, ass exposed, his sweet pink hole just…there. Waiting.

Dean couldn’t wait any longer. He flicked his tongue across it.

Sam jumped.

“Hold still, Sammy. Don’t make me tie you up.” Dean thought about that for a moment. “Strike that. Make me tie you up.”

Sam stared up at him, panting. “Again.”

“Hey, who’s giving the orders here?”

“Do it again.” Sam’s pupils were blown wide.

Dean laughed. “Bossy little bitch.” And he did it again.

This time, he held Sam down hard, pressing his palms against his thighs. Sam gasped, and bit down on his lip.

“”S’ok. You can make all the noise you want.”

Sam looked startled. “I forgot.”

Dean grabbed one of the Cowboys pillows and stuffed it under Sam’s hips, then settled in and made himself comfortable between Sam’s legs. “Gonna be here for a while, baby boy.”

Sam moaned.

Dean licked another stripe, slow and wet. Sam’s thighs shook under Dean’s hands. “Oh god. Oh god.”

Dean brushed his lips against Sam’s inner thigh. “There you go, sweetheart. Tell me when it feels good.”

He lapped at Sam’s tight pink ring, slow curls of his tongue, letting it dig in a little each time as it passed over the center, then flicked the tip against the center, pressed it there, held it steady.

Sam made a sound that started off as a word and disintegrated into a drawn-out moan.

Dean tightened his tongue muscle and pressed, breaching the outer ring. Sam spasmed beneath him, crying out.

“That feel good?”

“Everything you do feels good,” Sam panted. “But Christ. That. Fuck. Dean.”

Dean moved his hands down to Sam’s ass cheeks, pulled them apart. Sam was too far gone to blush, instead gripping the backs of his knees and holding his thighs back.

He pressed his thumbs on either side of Sam’s sphincter, and gently pulled them apart. “Come on, baby. Let me in.”

A few more long, slow drags of his tongue, and Sam started making the sweetest sounds Dean had ever heard. Little pants, moans, low guttural sounds punched out of him. And how he moved… rolling his hips, fucking up into Dean’s tongue, completely without shame or modesty, like he didn’t even know these concepts existed. Completely guileless and open, completely lost in the pleasure of giving himself over to Dean in the most intimate way possible.

Dean couldn’t help making sounds himself, moaning as Sam opened to him, his tongue sliding over the rougher texture of the outer ring into the impossibly soft, silken texture of the flesh beneath. “So good,” he murmured. “Feel so good, Sam.”

Sam was the one writhing beneath him, but suddenly Dean was the desperate one. He wanted more, wanted to work his tongue as deep inside Sam as humanly possible. He buried his face between Sam’s ass cheeks, sucking on his sweet pink rim. Sam cried out, his voice rough with urgency. “Dean. Oh my fucking god. Fucking hell. Do it. Fucking do it.” Sam’s voice spurred Dean on, driving his tongue deeper inside Sam, licking inside him, curling and twining and tasting him, licking him open, and mother of all that’s holy, somehow Sam tasted good, somehow Dean hurting himself trying to jam his tongue all the way up his little brother’s ass tasted so fucking good, felt so silky soft on his tongue, and no one, fucking no one had ever done that to Sammy before, and Dean would make damn sure no one other than him ever would, just him. Only him.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Sam chanted,

“Go on, Sammy. Make as much noise as you want to.” Sam began making wordless cries, tossing his head from side to side, hands scrabbling at the comforter. “You want more? Want me to tongue fuck you some more, baby boy? You like it?”

“Don’t stop. Christ. Please don’t stop. Please. Dean. More.”

Dean sealed his mouth over Sam and sucked hard, stabbing his tongue inside him again and again, driving a high-pitched cry out of his writhing, sweating little brother. Then he pulled his mouth away, earning a soft sound of protest from Sam, which was quickly silenced when he pressed the tip of his index finger against the wet rim of muscle.

“You thought that felt good? Oh, the things I’m gonna do to you.”

Sam shuddered underneath him. He really was every bit as responsive as Dean had hoped in the long, dark nights of repressed desire—and so much more. Sam was a drug, and Dean was already a hopeless addict.

Dean pressed the tip of his finger inside, penetrating the outer ring easily, all slick with saliva and yielding, prepared by Dean’s talented tongue.

“This what you want?”

Sam half-sat up, and fell back down, uttering sounds now. Just sounds. He arched his back, driving himself down on Dean’s finger. Dean cursed as Sam opened to him, taking his finger past the second ring of muscle.

When Sam felt Dean’s finger slip all the way inside him, he went crazy, raising his hips and fucking himself down over and over, practically sobbing, loud, so loud, spreading his legs as wide as he could, hands roaming over his chest, one pinching his nipple, the other darting into his mouth, sucking on his own fingers.

He was like a force of nature, writhing and crying out over and over, forming words now. “Dean” and “please” and “want to come for you” and “Christ please fuck me” and it was all Dean could do to not spit on his hand and slick up his cock and just fuck Sam stupid.

But he promised himself he wouldn’t do that. Not yet. Not until Sam was of age. Everything else, hell yes. But not that. Wanted to wait. Do it right. So long as he could hold out that long…

So Dean fucked his little brother with his index finger, and licked a broad stripe along the underside of Sam’s cock, making him wail. “You wanna come, Sammy?”

Sam lifted his head, looked Dean straight in the eyes. “God please Dean please Dean fuck gonna die please Dean oh god please…”

“Come on, baby boy. Gonna make you come for me. As loud as you wanna be. No one’s around to hear.” And Dean sealed his mouth over the head of Sam’s achingly hard cock and sucked, driving down and pulling back, sucking hard, licking along the sensitive spot where the head meets the shaft, and curled his index finger and pressed up…and Sam screamed, arched his back and bucked his hips up as he fell apart for his brother, and screamed again, a fierce cry ripped from the very core of him like a declaration, coming in violent spurts that hit the back of Dean’s throat so hard it made him cough.

But he swallowed it. Every drop.

Sam whimpered, spasming again and again, emptying into Dean’s mouth. And Dean took it all. “Taste so good, Sam.” He licked into the pulsing slit, making Sam shudder and cry out, releasing a last weak flood of come. “So fucking good.”

Dean crawled up, pressing his body against Sam, sealing his mouth around Sam’s… and Sam opened to him, licking the taste of himself out of his brother’s mouth, moaning at the taste of it, licking along the seam of Dean’s lips, licking deep into his mouth, and that was it, that was fucking it. Dean rubbed his cock against Sam’s thigh, grinding down against him hard, fucking his mouth with his tongue, hand wrapped in Sam’s hair hard enough to make him gasp into Dean’s mouth, and that was fucking it.

He made a surprised sound at the force of his orgasm, which hit him like a runaway train and slammed him past all rational thought, just his body shaking apart with pleasure too sharp to bear, to keen to endure, and now it was Dean screaming, howling with the overwhelming force of it, Sam clutching his shoulders, staring up at him in awe and disbelief.

Dean must have actually lost consciousness, because he came to with Sam pushing gently at his shoulders. “Dean? Dean.”

Dean pushed himself off and collapsed at Sam’s side.”Mmph.”

Sam propped himself up on one arm and lightly traced little patterns along Dean’s back with the tips of his fingers, prompting murmurs of pleasure. After a long while, Dean said, “What  are you… are those words?”

“Latin.”

“What Latin?”

Sam smiled, teeth flashing white in the darkness. “Well… that—“ and here his fingers made an elaborate series of flourishes—“is a prayer for protection, and that—”  another pattern here “ —is a claiming ritual, and that—” a slow, simple series of movements ”—is I love you.”

Sam had never said that before. Not in words. Not like that.

“Claiming ritual, huh? You want to tattoo me with your mark or something, Sammy?” Dean was joking—but not.

Sam sensed it. “Would…you wouldn’t. Would you?”

Dean looked at Sam’s face in the faint light of the waxing moon through the bedroom window, so cautious and yet so hopeful. “Would you?”

“Dude, I’d tattoo ‘My heart belongs to Dean Winchester’ on my chest.”

“I’m serious, Sam. Would you?”

Sam’s face grew somber. “I would literally tattoo that on my chest, but you’d kill me.”

“Yeah, kinda hard to explain that one to Dad.”

“Dean. What are you asking?”

“I’d wear your mark if you’d wear mine.”

Sam was extraordinarily sensitive, but he really didn’t cry at the drop of a hat. And yet there he was, crying for the second time that night. “Yes,” he whispered against Dean’s mouth. “Yes.”

Master post with chapter links

Comments

[kinkajou.livejournal.com]

ohyes, it is official now! This is my most favorite verse ever! :)

[sammichgirl]

You've got me completely enthralled with this. I love the brotherliness, and OMG, John and Bobby play right into their plans!

It's hot, it's sweet and it's filthy, and I LOVE IT!

*bounces up and down* Tattoo, are they gonna get tattoos?

hey

[leighannwallace.livejournal.com]

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this!

[novakev.livejournal.com]

This...is...perfect!!! Awesome job!

[riotgrrlhotel.livejournal.com]

Oh the latin. Loved it.

[deansdirtybb.livejournal.com]

Oh-so-very-good...and each one just keeps getting better. Loved the opening bit with John ("Don't get your brother worked up" ha!). Then sofuckinghot (OMFG the screaming)...and at the end you smack me with the love and the tattoos?! You are too amazing for words.

[masja-17.livejournal.com]

Speechless....

So hot!

<3

[deezy-y.livejournal.com]

Another ridiculously hot installment but it was hilariously funny as well. Not to mention an incredibly sweet ending. Loved everything about it! :)

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

That's great to hear. Porn is easy. Comedy is hard!

[deezy-y.livejournal.com]

I can imagine. I admire your ability to be able to write both so incredibly well. Kudos!

[lilithrain.livejournal.com]

Oh my sweet God I'm going to have a late night, this is so beautifully written by the way. You just get lost in that little world of theirs.

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I really work hard to make this "real literature." I respect fanfiction, and treat it with as much care as I do my literary fiction. I hope when I finish my original novel, I'm able to create my own new world successfully, one that people will want to get lost in.

[alexisjane.livejournal.com]

Holy...everything
just...*sighs* I have no words x

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

Ah, Sam. He cries a lot in this story. But I stand by that.

[alexisjane.livejournal.com]

Oh and you should. Crying Dean is certainly in my top three flavours of Dean so I'm all for it. Angst is important...like vitamins or something x