Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 33: B Side

[justinedelarge]

Title: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 33: B Side
Author: justinedelarge

Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest (Sam is a few months shy of legal age)
Word Count: 2244
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters and plot.
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: John, Bobby and Reggie are still gone. We're back in Bobby's house, right after Sammy's finally had his first time. And now it's Dean's turn.

Here is a YouTube playlist I put together for this scene and the previous one. Take the first video of the rain sounds and have it playing in its own window. Then play the other songs in a new window or tab, so the music plays over the sound of the rain.
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbrO9mACDilTqtO7bKkuXN7lWeGIQeDOX

Sam roused.

They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms to the sound of the rain spattering against the window, the serpentine dance of a hundred candle flames bowing and rearing up, the scent of each other dissolving into the warm honeyed smell of beeswax and clean, wet earth.

Sam blinked, his broken arm aching underneath the weight of Dean. He murmured a wordless, gentle protest, and Dean stirred instantly. “Hurting you, Sammy?” Dean rolled off, keeping his hand pressed to Sam’s stomach, not willing to let go completely. Sam pulled his arm free and settled onto his back

A roll of thunder shook the air, trembling through their bones.

Dean brushed Sam’s hair away from his face. “Did I hurt you?” His eyes searched Sam’s face. He wasn’t asking about Sam’s arm.

Sam’s mouth parted in a smile. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Dean. It didn’t hurt.”

Dean toyed with Sam’s hair, looping a thick lock of it around his index finger. “Not at all?”

Sam’s smile deepened. “Nope. It just… it was…”

Dean waited, letting Sam think.

“It was right. Like…you just fit.” Sam’s voice was soft. “Inside me.”

Dean’s neck muscles worked as he swallowed. “Yeah?” His eyes, stolen jade gleaming in the candlelight, looked up into Sam’s.

Sam let the moment hang in the air.

“You want me to.”

Improbably, Dean’s face colored. “Duh. ‘Course I want you to. I said so, didn’t I?”

The rain intensified, streaming in rivulets down the window. Sam rubbed his thumb along Dean’s jaw.

“You want me to now.”

Dean shivered. “No. I mean, yeah, but… this was your first time. Want it to be special. To be about you.”

Sam’s face tensed. “It wouldn’t be your first time? You’ve… you’ve already done that?”

“Christ no.” Dean jerked his head. “No.” He blew out a nervous breath. “Saving myself for you, Sammy.”

Dean flashed his trademark cocky grin, but Sam put his fingers over his mouth. “No. Don’t you do that. Not now.”

“Do what?”

“Do that thing. Where you lay on the charm. You do it when you get nervous.”

Dean blinked, stunned that Sam had seen through that.

“Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.”

Dean laughed. Nervously. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re packing some serious heat there, Sam.”

Sam sat up, lowering Dean onto his back. “I won’t hurt you, Dean.”

Dean just looked up at Sam, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face.

“It won’t hurt. I’ll go slow.” Sam leaned over and brushed his mouth against Dean’s. “I want to. I really want to.” Sam’s voice softened, became hesitant. “If you want me to.”

Dean trembled. “You have no idea.”

Sam’s face broke into a smile of relief. “That tape got a side B?”

Dean pressed eject and flipped the tape.

A simple acoustic guitar.

Childhood living

Is easy to do

The things that you wanted

I bought them for you

Sam lowered himself over Dean, took Dean’s mouth in his.

You know I can't let you slide through my hands

Wild horses, couldn't drag me away

Wild wild horses couldn't drag me away

Dean gasped at the feel of Sam’s hands roaming over his body, pressing with a new kind of urgency, Sam’s tongue, warm and insistent, slipping between his teeth, urging him wordlessly to open to him, let him in.

No sweeping exits or off stage lines

Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

Sam’s hand, stroking his flank, sliding between his legs.

Wild horses, couldn't drag me away

Sam’s fingers, slick and shaking, circling.

Dean’s thighs parting. Letting him in.

Wild horses, couldn't drag me away

Wild wild horses we'll ride them someday

A fingertip, pressing gently. So gently. Dean arching his back. Whispering, “Sammy.”

Silence. Only the sound of the rain as Sam’s finger enters Dean. So gentle. So careful.

Piano.  Rolling drums. A rolling piano trill, dropping into an instantly recognizable rising and falling melody.

Only love can make it rain

The way the beach is kissed by the sea

Only love can make it rain

Like the sweat of lovers

Laying in the fields

“Jesus. Did you know it was going to be raining when we…”

“Guess I got lucky.”

Sam’s lips, warm and strong, against the cut on his chest, licking the blood off.

Sam letting his index finger slide out, pressing the tips of two fingers against Dean’s entrance.

“No.”

A soft, shocked exhale punched out of Sam. He pulled his fingers away like they had burned Dean.

Dean stroked Sam’s arm. “Shh. Not ‘no’ like that. I want you. Now.”

Sam protested. “Dean… I need to get you ready.”

“Trust me. I’m ready. Just… just go slow.”

Sam shook his head, not willing to do anything to risk hurting his Dean.

“Sammy.” Dean pulled Sam to him. “C’mon.” His eyes fluttered to Sam’s chest, then back up to meet his gaze. “Please.” The stark vulnerability, the naked trust, was almost more than Sam could bear.

“Ok.” Sam swallowed. “Ok. But you tell me if it hurts. You tell me.”

“Promise.”

Sam slicked his cock and coated his index and middle fingers until they were dripping, then slid them inside. “Want you,” Dean hissed.

“Knew you’d be bossy about it.” Sam’s mouth twitched.

A simple guitar melody. Jim Morrison’s voice, smooth and sultry

I love you

Better than the rest

I love you

Better than the rest

Sam, stubborn, worked his two fingers in, crooked them, pressing into that spot. Dean’s eyes flashed open wider.

“You like it when I use my fingers.” Sam’s voice took on a hint of Dean’s whiskey and cigarette rasp, that smoke-scarred rumble that sent Sam’s nerves singing. It worked on Dean too. He pursed his lips, frustrated that Sam wasn’t just giving him what he wanted, but rocked down on Sam’s fingers. “Don’t you? Just… just let me make sure you’re ready.”

Dean growled.

“Just let me.”

Dean tried. He really did. But after another couple of minutes, writhing on Sam’s fingers, he broke. “Sammy. You’re killing me.” He closed his eyes, pressed his face into Sam’s chest. “I need you. Please.”

And not even stubborn Sam Winchester could resist that plea.

Sam laid his hands on Dean’s thighs and slowly moved them apart, slotting himself between them. He shifted his hips, bringing the head of his cock to Dean’s entrance.

Dean exhaled audibly.

Sam pressed gently, pulled back. Pressed gently. Pulled back. Pressed gently—and just barely slipped inside.

Sam shook violently. Dean rubbed his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “You ok, Sammy?”

“God. Oh god. Dean.”

Sam looked down at Dean, his face… his face. No words.

Dean spread his legs wider, slid his hands down Sam’s back until they came to rest at the base of his spine. He whispered, “More.”

A warm bass line.

Nights in white satin, never reaching the end

Beauty I'd always missed with these eyes before.

Sam moaning as Dean’s head fell back, baring his throat to him.

Cause I love you

Yes I love you

Oh I how I love you

Dean urging him forward. Sam biting his lower lip until he tasted blood, feeling Dean start to open to him.

Dean kissed Sam, tongue swiping across his lower lip, groaning when he caught the taste of blood.

“Come on Sammy just…”

Sam always pulled his band-aids off slowly.

Dean always ripped his off in one fast motion.

He wrapped his arms around Sam’s back and bucked his hips up hard, driving Sam’s cock past the inner ring of muscle, the head all the way inside him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Sam gasped.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes went wide.

“Dean, are you—“

Dean’s eyelids fluttered. He exhaled a long, shuddering breath, and gripped Sam tight, not letting him pull away. Held him like that, panting short and sharp, breathing gradually easing, relaxing into the feel of having Sam inside him. “Sammy,” he breathed.  His head fell back. “God. Sam.”

“Jesus. You ok?”

By way of answer, Dean pressed his hands to Sam’s face and kissed him, spread his legs even wider.

Sam began to move inside Dean, slow and gentle. At the first feel of Sam pulling back and moving deeper inside him, Dean began to tremble all over. “Jesus.”

Sam kissed Dean’s neck, licking the sweat from the hollow at the base of his throat, moving a little deeper now, groaning helplessly at the feeling of Dean opening to him. Taking him.

“Sammy. More.” Dean’s hands clutched at Sam’s shoulders.

Sam slid himself almost all the way out, the head of his cock stretching Dean’s inner muscle, and slowly, so slowly, pushed back in.

Dean shook and groaned underneath him, skin slick with sweat, making the sweetest little cries Sam had ever heard.

Sam did it again.

And again.

Dean thrashed his head, grabbed Sam’s ass with both hands, pushed and writhed and demanded more.

Sam rocked into him slowly, fighting not to come.

Dean’s hands roamed up and down Sam’s body, plucking at him helplessly. “Harder. Please. Sammy. I need it. Please.”

Sam examined Dean’s face.

He meant it.

And Sam always gave Dean what he needed.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean good and tight, and fucked him the way he needed it, pulling back and driving in hard.

And Dean just lost it, writhing on Sam’s cock, arching his back, spreading his legs wide, taking Sam as deep as Sam wanted to go, his hard cock flushed deep red, jerking with the force of Sam’s thrusts, rubbing against Sam’s tight belly. And instead of the flood of gorgeous dirty talk that Sam expected, Dean just made sounds. Whimpers, sweet needy moans, aching with need, gasps of surprise at the impossible force of the pleasure Sam was giving him.

Sam fucked his Dean deep and hard, and Dean bounced and groaned and writhed beneath him.

“Christ, Dean, you’re gonna… gonna make me…”

Dean bit his lip and wrapped his legs around Sam’s lower back and stared up into Sam’s face like all he wanted for Christmas was to have Sam come inside him. And that was it, that was all Sam could stand, that tight heat clenching against him, and he gripped Dean’s arms hard and pumped into him once, twice, and he was coming, Christ, coming inside Dean, his come spurting inside Dean, his fist wrapping around Dean’s cock… and Dean gave a strangled groan and spasmed, cries punched out of him like the pleasure was unbearable, like it was shivering him into pieces, spilling hot and wet all over Sam’s fingers, shooting gleaming white strings all over his belly and chest.

Sam shifted, and Dean trembled with an intense aftershock, sending another trickle of come  onto his stomach.

So intense was Sam’s orgasm that his limbs went weak, and he trembled with the effort of holding his weight off Dean. Dean let them roll onto their sides, murmuring with displeasure when Sam’s cock slipped out of him.

Dean couldn’t speak. All he could do was stroke Sam’s face, eyes wide and helpless like someone had stolen his voice right when he had so much he desperately wanted to say.

“Me too, Dean.”

Dean pulled Sam to him, kissed him like he was burning a wordless promise into Sam’s very flesh.

Eventually Sam regained the use of his limbs, and Dean regained the power of speech. Sam pulled the comforter and flannel sheets back and nestled Dean inside. Then he rose and began putting out the candles.

“Mmm. Like the candles.” Dean murmured a sleepy protest.

“We’re about to pass out. I don’t want to burn the house down.”

Sam left one big candle burning on the table next to his side of the bed, went down the hall to the bathroom, and came back with a warm, wet washcloth. He gave it to Dean, who cleaned himself up, and pulled Sam into bed, settling the warm bedding around him.

“Was… was I…”

Dean snuggled into Sam’s chest. “You were awesome. And I’m fine.” Dean breathed in, exhaled. “It was perfect.”

Sam’s eyes lit up.”Yeah?”

“Even better than I’d imagined.”

Sam made a soft, happy sound.

“What?”

“You imagined it. Us. Like that.”

“Oh yeah, baby boy.” Dean’s cocky grin was back, but this time, it was just the thing.

“So… that’s not gonna be like a one-time thing then. Letting me…”

“Letting you fuck me in the ass?”

Sam shivered. The way Dean talked? Like catnip.

“Oh no. That’s really not gonna be a one-time thing.”

Sam  went to blow out the last candle.

Dean stopped him.“Want you to see my face when I say this.”

Sam blinked.

“I love you.” Dean’s eyes were damp. “I don’t say that like I should. Not like that. But… I do.”

Sam breathed it in, the love in Dean’s eyes, the declaration of love from Dean’s lips, the immensity of what had happened between them in the past few hours.

“I love you too.”

Dean watched Sam’s face in the gentle glow of the lone candle, saw the light of Sam’s love for him blazing there. “I'll never give you up, Sammy. Not in this world. Not in any other.”

Sam’s mouth quivered. “Me neither.”

And when Sam blew out the candle, neither of them noticed the flash of light that ran down the twin blades of their knives, so close together on the end table they were touching.

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