Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 25: Behavior Modification

[justinedelarge]

Title: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 25: Behavior Modification

Author: justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest (Sam is a few months shy of legal age)
Word Count: 2042
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just for fun.
Summary: Ever wonder how Dean started talking dirty? The genesis is in the way Sam and Dean make their feelings for each other physical. This story has dirty talk, all the feels you can handle, infinite love and even a plot that develops into a nail-biting narrative, with the best kind of hurt/comfort.
Chapter Summary: Sam has a terrible nightmare. John asks about the new lock on their bedroom door. Dean has to figure out a way of helping Sam start to navigate past his new terror of being in water.

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. If I don't respond to each comment personally, please understand that I read and cherish ALL OF THEM, and that I'm just trying to get through an incredibly busy time of year, and still write more chapters of this story in what little free time I have.PLUS your comments help shape the narrative! Truly interactive. Some of you have mentioned things that made me think, "Yeah, actually, that must happen," and I've changed my plan to include them.

Link to entire story so far:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/411362

John thumped down the stairs and came into the living room. Bobby was at his desk, four books open in front of him. Dean came back in from the kitchen, apple in hand.

“Sam’s asleep.” John settled down on the couch with a sigh.

Dean glanced at the closed door to what was now their bedroom at the top of the stairs.

“Probably best to let him rest, Dean.”

Dean considered the suggestion. And his demeanor made it very clear that to him, it was just a suggestion. Not an order.

“I’ll go up in a bit.”

Dean sat in the recliner.

“Hey, Dean, since when is there a lock on your door?”

Dean looked up at John quickly, then at Bobby. He hadn’t been sure who put that lock on the door. Or why.

“Since Sam…since it happened.” Bobby’s face was calm, the tone of his voice casual. “I figured he’d sleep better if he knew the door was locked.” He glanced at Dean, just for a second. “And besides. People need their privacy.”

Dean sucked in a quick breath.

“Ah, ok. I just don’t remember that door having a lock.” John slumped back on the couch, scratching his chin, and closed his eyes. “Nap sounds good right about now, actually.”

Dean watched Bobby, trying to read his face. After a minute, Bobby noticed Dean staring at him. He said nothing, but his lips moved, rising into a tiny smile.

Dean leaned back in the recliner, taking a few deep breaths. Probably meant nothing, he thought. Couldn’t possibly mean that—

The scream that punched through the closed bedroom door was chilling. Dean was on his feet, blood frozen solid in his veins, pelting up the stairs before John had even sat all the way up. The wordless cry quivered, thinned, dissolved into a terrifying silence, and then Sam’s voice screamed, fear-sharp and ragged, “Dean!”

Dean flung the bedroom door open. Sam was huddled in a tight ball in the far corner of the room, shaking violently, screaming his brother’s name again and again, eyes cast upward, staring at nothing.

Dean fell to his knees and shielded Sam with his body, lacing his arms around him. “Sam. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Sam reeked of vinegar, his bare chest slippery with sweat. He buried his face in Dean’s chest, and made a low moan so soft and scared that it made Dean’s heart ache. He clutched at Dean like a drowning man at a life preserver. “Dean.”

“Right here, Sammy.” Dean pulled Sam to him even closer, and Sam broke into sobs. “I got you. You’re ok. You’re safe.”

John approached slowly, Bobby a few feet behind him. “Sam?”

Sam shuddered. “I’m ok. Just…”

“Bad dream?” Dean wiped tears from Sam’s cheek with the back of his hand.

Sam nodded furiously.

Dean’s mouth quivered. He pursed his lips, determined not to cry. Not in front of John and Bobby.

“Dude. You smell like pickles.”

Sam’s sob turned into a choked laugh. “No joke.” He looked up at Dean. “So do you.”

Dean looked down. Holding Sam, skin still damp from the vinegar soak, he’d gotten it all over himself.

Bobby put his hand on John’s shoulder. “Let’s let these two get cleaned up, and you and me, we’ll go make some grub.”

John stroked Sam’s hair. He had tears in his eyes. “Sam.”

“I’m alright, Dad.”

John closed his eyes for a moment, then patted Sam’s head. He gathered up the vinegar-soaked cloths, extra comforters and tarp,  and carried them downstairs.

Bobby hung back.

“Dean.”

Two pairs of eyes looked up at him.

“Don’t let Sam fall asleep without you with him.” His smile was gentle. “He needs you. You just keep taking real good care of him. He’ll be fine. And Sam, take a damn shower.”

Bobby turned to go, but paused in the doorway, back to them, hand on the doorjamb, right below the deadbolt.  He didn’t turn around. “You two… as long as you’re together, you’re gonna be ok.” And with that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Dean stared at the closed door. Thinking.

“Dean.”

Dean looked back at Sam. His wan face wore a guarded expression.

“I’m… I’m scared.”

“Hey. Hey. Hey. I’m right here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you.”

“The shower.” Sam stared at the floor.

Dean closed his eyes. Water.

“Ok. I have an idea. You’re gonna be fine. Trust me?”

Sam’s hopeful expression said it all.

~

Dean gathered up clean clothes for both of them and they went into the upstairs bathroom together. Dean ran the shower until the temperature was perfect, then stripped.

“Come on. Let’s get those off you.” Dean pulled Sam’s sweatpants off, and slipped a shower protector over Sam’s cast. Sam’s face was grey, his mouth closed tightly, making those fast breaths through his nose that he did when he was on the edge of absolute panic.

Dean stepped close and pulled Sam into a hug. “Gonna keep you safe. Trust me. Ok?”

Sam nodded, looking suddenly so much younger.

Dean held onto Sam’s shoulder and led him into the shower. Sam breathed in the moist air and went rigid, refusing to go any further. Dean immediately wrapped himself around Sam. “You can breathe. Plenty of air. Right?”

Sam closed his eyes, panic building. “Dean.”

Dean kissed him. Sam’s eyes flashed open.

Dean held his hand out to Sam, asking, not forcing. Sam took his hand. Dean pulled gently, so gently. Asking. Not making Sam. Sam stood stock still, then closed his eyes and let Dean pull him all the way into the shower stall.

Dean maneuvered Sam into the stream of water, letting it pour down his shoulders and back, pressing his body against Sam.

Sam responded, hardening at the feel of Dean’s naked body. As Dean knew he would.

“Ever tell you how hot you look when you’re soaking wet?” Dean grinned at Sam.

Sam blinked rapidly, caught between abject, reflexive terror and arousal. Dean ran his fingers through Sam’s hair, pressing his cock, fully hard now, against Sam’s thigh. The water streamed through his hair. Sam’s mouth opened, responding to Dean’s touch.

“Gonna take you to that beach, Sammy. Like I promised. Remember?” It seemed like a million years ago when Dean had talked dirty to Sam, telling him how he wanted to get Sam on that beach, watch him drink a bottle of beer, slide his cock into Sam’s mouth…

“Yeah,” Sam managed to whisper.

Dean reached behind Sam for the bottle of shampoo, squirted some into his palm, and began working it into Sam’s hair. Sam moaned when Dean lightly scratched his scalp with the tips of his fingernails.

“I can just see you, coming out of the water, dripping wet. So fucking hot.” Dean shifted his hips so that his cock was rubbing up against Sam’s now. Sam hissed, rocking against Dean.

Dean kept working his fingers in Sam’s hair, tipping his head back slightly, baring Sam’s throat, kissing it. “Gonna lay you down on that beach towel, lick all the salt off you.” Sam groaned. “Fuck, Sam. I can just taste it.” Dean dragged his tongue over Sam’s neck. “Licking that salt water off you. Off every inch of you.”

Dean dropped his mouth down to Sam’s left nipple, took it into his mouth, and gently moved Sam’s head into the spray, bent back so that no water ran into Sam’s face. Sam trembled, panic flaring. Dean bit down gently. Sam gasped, arching into it, as Dean rinsed the shampoo from his hair, teeth and tongue playing over the hard nub.

When Sam’s hair was rinsed clean, Dean took the bar of soap from the soap dish and ran it over Sam’s chest, working up a rich lather. Sam reached for Dean, demanding a kiss. And Dean gave Sam what he wanted, opening his mouth to Sam. Chests slick with soap, they slid against each other, Sam moaning at the slick sensation.

Dean lathered up Sam’s stomach and arms, keeping Sam in the warm water, not caring that he was cold. He moved close again, kissed Sam harder, sliding against Sam’s slippery body. Then he moved back, spun Sam to face the shower, body pressed up against him.

Sam tensed again as the water vapor rose up around his face. But Dean was ready. He held him close, one hand lightly pressed to Sam’s chest, holding the soap. “’S ok. I got you. Just breathe in.”

Sam took a shuddering breath. “Dean—“

Dean wrapped his other hand around Sam’s cock, started working it nice and slow. “That feel good, baby boy?”

Sam made a low, happy sound.

“Fuck. Love doing this to you. Jacking you off.”

Sam’s hips pumped forward. “Yeah. There you go, sweetheart. Fuck my fist.”

Dean rubbed his soapy chest against Sam’s back, sliding it back and forth. Sam let his his head fall back against Dean’s shoulder, and did what Dean told him, fucking Dean’s fist, red-faced, mouth open.

“Christ. So fucking hot, Sammy.”  Dean went to his knees, and soaped up Sam’s thighs, then ran a soap-slick hand between Sam’s legs.

“Fuck.” Sam put his right palm on the shower wall and leaned forward, water running over his back.

“Thought you’d like that.” Dean soaped Sammy up nice and good, fingers circling his rim, teasing it. “Get you nice and clean for me.” Dean let the shower water sluice over Sam, washing away all the lather.

Dean brushed his mouth over the soft curve of Sam’s ass. “You want me to?”

Sam shivered. “Yeah.”

Dean put his palms on either side of Sam’s ass and held him open, dragging his tongue up the center.

Sam moaned.

“Shhh, baby boy. Gotta keep quiet.”

Sam bit his lip, and spread his legs wider.  Dean lapped at Sam’s hole, closing his eyes against the spattering water hitting him in the face. He licked and sucked, reveling in the feel of Sam under his tongue, opening to him, feeling Sam shake and squirm.

“You love this so much.”

Sam showed Dean, with little movements of his body and soft, needy sounds, how true that was.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, he stood up, reaching for the conditioner. He slicked up both their cocks, and then turned to face the side wall. “Come here.” Sam moved behind him, and Dean backed up so that Sam’s cock slipped between his thighs.

Sam swore as Dean clamped his legs together. “Feels good, huh?” Sam pressed his open mouth to Dean’s shoulder, nodding.

Dean guided Sam’s hand to his cock, stifling a cry as his fingers tightened around him. “Come on, Sammy.”

Sam pumped his hips, fucking Dean’s strong thighs, working his cock with right hand.

“You like that?”

“God, “Sam whispered. “God.”

“Can’t wait to get inside you, baby boy. But you know what? After that?” Dean’s voice dropped to a low purr. “Want to feel you inside me.”

Sam’s whole body shuddered, hips pushing against Dean frantically.

“You want that, baby boy? Wanna do that to me? Fuck me like that? Get inside me, make me come on your cock?”

“Dean. Fuck. Yeah.” Sam broke, coming hard, violent tremors running through him, biting down on Dean’s shoulder. And Dean gave Sam what he wanted, came so hard for his little brother, open mouth pressed to the white tile, spurting against it, squeezing his thighs to milk a tremendous aftershock out of Sam.

~

Sam sighed, softening, pulling away and turning Dean to face him.

They kissed, cooling water rinsing away any trace of what they had just done.

Dean turned the water off, and they stepped out onto the thick bath mat.

“So that was your plan? Take my mind off stuff by distracting me?”

Dean rubbed a towel over Sam’s hair. “Kinda. I figured we have to give you good associations with water.” Dean smiled, sweet and a little sleepy. “So I’m gonna shower with you. Every day. And make you come.”

Sam blinked. “That could work.”

Dean tousled his own hair quickly, and dried Sam off with another towel. “I’ll be damned.”

Sam frowned. “What?”

Dean traced his fingers over Sam’s chest. “That vinegar trick. It’s totally working.”

Comments

[sandycub.livejournal.com]

Great chapter! I am loving this whole thing!! How true, what Dean said - Sam needs good associations with water to help him get over what happened.

Totally love your Bobby!

[sammichgirl]

Bobby makes me smile so much, I love how he handles John.

Dean, tender and sweet, I really love how you capture his love for Sam so deeply. Positive associations with water, very smart!

[masja-17.livejournal.com]

Love your Bobby, and hot shower sex!

<3

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

So long as you don't love Bobby AND hot shower sex! :)

Seriously, I'm down for free expression of all types of sexuality and body types, but Bobby is totally a healthy Daddy figure for me and I plan to keep him that way!

[masja-17.livejournal.com]

I want to read about hot (shower) sex between Sam and Dean. I'm old so I could have hot shower sex with Bobby. ;)

(Well, really preferable Sam!!!)

<3

[jespretender.livejournal.com]

Intense! That shower scene was amazing! The touches of humour are great too.

[lilithrain.livejournal.com]

Well this was a fricking awesome chapter. ☺ Loving this. ♥

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

Yay! And I'm loving your chapter commentary.