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justinedelarge) wrote2013-01-22 12:02 am
Confession Chapter 3: Exhibition
Author:
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justinedelargeFandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating:NC-17
Spoilers: Wincest, dirty talk, exhibitionism
Word Count: 3075
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own. Write your own fics. Don't steal other people's stories.
Summary: Dean has a surprise for Sam.
It took a while to find the right place at the right time. Dean surreptitiously did some digging at every place they stopped on their hunts, but didn’t find one that fit the criteria.
Eventually, he came across a bar in a university town. Checked it out while Sam was running down a lead. Exactly what the doctor ordered.
“What’s gotten into you?” Sam finished the last of his salad.
Dean popped another French fry into his mouth and sent Sam another one of those cryptic, knowing looks.
“Not telling. Not yet.”
Sam blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. Be that way.”
“I will.” Dean ate another fry, watching Sam’s mouth.
Sam could read the sexual heat coming off Dean. Hell, everyone in the diner could. It radiated off him in waves. But Dean wouldn’t yield.
For the rest of the afternoon, he couldn’t stop touching Sam, even when it was inappropriate, like interviewing the leads Sam had tracked down, two women who ran a doggie day care business out of a suburban home. In the middle of the younger woman’s explanation of the strange, sharp-toothed creature she’d seen in the neighborhood, Dean put his hand on Sam’s thigh and caressed it like no Federal agent should rub another Federal agent in public. He didn’t even know he was doing it until the woman stopped mid-sentence, and he noticed Sam staring at him like he’d just sprouted a third arm.
Dean, remarkably, managed to play it off seamlessly. “My apologies, ma’am.” His voice was gentle and apologetic. “Agent Malmsteen is my partner, but he’s also my…partner.” He cast his eyes down, long lashes framed against his skin, looking impossibly vulnerable. “I—“ He faltered.
“Don’t you dare apologize.” The older woman brushed her hair back over her shoulder and leaned forward earnestly. “You’re with allies here.”
~
Sam didn’t bring it up until they had concluded the interview and got back in the car. “Dude. Are you going to tell me what’s up or what?”
Dean stared at Sam, so proper in his Fed suit, and got a full-body shiver at the plan of what he had in store for him that night.
“Got something special in store for you, baby boy.”
Sam’s eyes went wide.
“And you’re gonna love it.”
Back in the motel room, Dean smacked Sam on the ass lightly. “Do you want to shower first?”
Sam stilled, biting his lip. That was code for when Sam liked to shower by himself so he could use the special tube and nozzle to get himself clean deep inside. For when they were going to be spending a lot of time doing delicious things to Sam’s ass.
“You go first.” Sam’s voice was hushed, thick with anticipation.
Dean showered fast, and kissed Sam as they passed in the doorway. It was all he could do to refrain from just getting started right there. But he had plans.
When Sam finally emerged from the shower, shaved and squeaky clean, Dean was all dressed and ready to go, in black jeans, and a nice dark green shirt with buttons that set off his eyes so well, it made Sam stop in his tracks and stare, transfixed.
“Get dressed, Sam.”
Dean had laid out his clothes for him. Black jeans, a grey beater, and a black jacket.
Sam blinked, trying to figure out what the plan was by that little clue.
He dressed quickly. When he went to button the jacket, Dean laid his fingers over Sam’s. “Leave it open.”
~
Dean drove them to a part of town they hadn’t been to before, a commercial district with warehouses, a few restaurants, and some nightclubs. He parked the Impala on a side street and, holding Sam’s hand, let him toward a club with a black and white sign out front that read simply, “The Stud.”
Sam stopped dead.
Dean didn’t tug. Didn’t force Sam. Just stood next to him, so close Sam could feel his body heat, smell the cologne he’d put on. Just looked into Sam’s face, green eyes so clear and hopeful. “S this ok, Sammy?”
The color rose in Sam’s cheeks. “Yeah.” He swallowed hard, leaning in toward Dean, placing his hand on Dean’s neck. “This is ok.”
Dean’s voice was just above a whisper. “We’ll only do what you want. Ok? As much as you want to do.”
Sam’s mouth twitched. “Promise?”
Dean nodded. “Promise.”
They went inside the club. It was busy, filled with men. Men in jeans and no t-shirt, leather fetish wear, regular clothes, and attire that looked like it would fit right in at Burning Man.
Every eye was on them as they entered. In a room full of beautiful men, Sam and Dean Winchester still stood out.
Dean made it abundantly clear from his body language that Sam was with him. He brought Sam to the bar and ordered four double shots of whiskey.
Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Trying to get me sloppy drunk so my inhibitions are gone?”
Dean swiped his tongue over his lower lip. “Um, yeah.”
Sam watched Dean’s mouth, his own lips parting.
The bartender put down the four shots. “There you go, sweetheart.”
Sam picked up the first shot glass. “Well, ok then.” He downed it, wincing almost imperceptibly, and then picked up the other and knocked it back just as fast.
Dean was not one to be outdone by his little brother, and put his shots back with practiced efficiency. He slid two twenties to the bartender.
The bartender beamed. “You two are going to be my favorite customers tonight.”
Dean gave him a look. “You have no idea.”
They were well acquainted with the contents of a whiskey bottle, Sam and Dean, but still, the heat tickled at their insides, loosened what needed loosening. It wasn’t long before they started feeling it.
“Everyone’s looking at you, Sammy.” And they were. Eyes surveying them with appreciation, approval, outright lust.
Sam suddenly started like he’d had an epiphany. “I can kiss you.”
Dean laughed hard. “That’s part of the plan.”
“No, I mean, I can kiss you here, and not get my ass kicked.” He leaned close, placed his hands on Dean’s cheeks, and brought Dean’s face to his.
Sam kissed Dean like it was the first time their lips had ever touched. The kiss was reverent, grateful, his mouth brushing Dean’s like it was something rare and precious. The men grinding on each other, playing pool, even the go-go dancers in furry boots and g-strings, every one of them turned to watch.
Sam curled his back and pressed in closer, his mouth claiming Dean’s, his massive hand slipping around the back of Dean’s head. Dean raising up into the kiss. Sam pulled back just long enough to look into Dean’s eyes, rub the thumb of his other hand over Dean’s lower lip. Then he brought his mouth back down, harder this time, insistent. Dean’s lips parted for Sam, moaning so soft the first soft brush of his tongue, his hand sliding up under Sam’s shirt.
The feel of Dean’s fingers on his bare flesh spurred Sam on, kissing him with greater intensity, hand gripping Dean’s ass and pulling him close, insinuating his thigh between Dean’s legs.
Dean arched into it, ghosting his fingers over the sleek skin of Sam’s back. Sam gasped into Dean’s mouth.
They both pulled back at the same time. Sam braced his forehead against Dean’s and laughed weakly.
The men at the bar broke into applause. The bartender clapped the loudest.
Sam grinned, his face getting pinker. But somehow he did not look embarrassed.
A dark-haired man approached them, wearing a beautiful purple long-sleeved shirt, leather pants and boots, and an elaborate necklace. “You two are a breathtakingly beautiful couple.”
Dean cocked his head. “My better half.” Sam rolled his eyes.
“My name is Richard. This is my establishment. May I buy you a drink?”
Sam nodded.
“What’s your flavor?”
“Bourbon.” Sam and Dean spoke in unison.
“Too fucking adorable.”
Dean frowned. He hated being called adorable—by anyone but Sam. Richard nodded to the bartender. Dean did not frown any more when he unlocked a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle.
The bartender poured a generous amount of bourbon into three tumblers. Sam and Dean drank at the same time, their eyes flashing wide at the first sip. “Damn.” Dean shook his head in disbelief.
“Like I said. You two are a beautiful couple. Would you care to join me?”
Richard led them into a private room in the back, with its own bouncer.
Inside were men even more impressive to look at than out front. Couples and trios sitting on couches with their arms around each other, sitting at a gorgeous antique mahogany bar, pressed up against each other leaning against the wall.
Again, all eyes turned to Sam and Dean.
Richard led them to a plush couch on the side of the room, letting them sit next to each other and sitting down next to Sam.
Dean took another sip of the legendary, impossible to find bourbon and sighed with pleasure.
Richard smiled, and turned to Sam. “If you’re warm, we could find a place for your jacket.”
Dean watched Sam’s face.
Sam peeled the jacket off slowly, eyes locked on Dean.
When the jacket was off, revealing Sam in the grey beater, Richard made a little sound barely audible over the soft music.
Dean ran his hand up Sam’s bare arm, making Sam shiver.
“Isn’t he a responsive one?” Richard sipped his bourbon.
Dean searched Sam’s face, slipping his hand into Sam’s.
Sam blinked once, slowly and squeezed Dean’s hand.
Dean turned to Richard, green eyes glinting in the light. “Yeah he is. Wanna see?”
~
They finished their bourbon. Slowly. Dean’s fingers tracing along Sam’s bare arms, across his chest. When they got to his neck, Sam trembled visibly.
Richard’s mouth parted slightly.
They finished their drinks and set the tumblers down on the side table.
“You ok, Sammy?”
Sam bit his lip and nodded.
Dean tugged gently at the hem of the beater. Sam pulled it off over his head.
Somewhere, someone said, “Jesus fucking CHRIST.”
Sam blushed, keeping his gaze locked on Dean.
“Sam. Kiss me.”
Sam leaned in, brought his mouth to Dean’s. Dean licked the taste of bourbon off the seam of his lips, delved deeper, licking it out of his mouth.
Sam moaned.
Dean kissed him deeper, running his hands over Sam’s bare back. When he dragged his nails lightly all the way down, Sam squirmed.
Dean twined his fingers into Sam’s belt and tugged him closer, making Sam straddle him. He brought Sam close, whispered in his ear. “They’re all watching you, Sammy.” Sam made a little sound. “Losing their fucking minds at how beautiful you are. They wish they were me so bad right now, Sammy. You can tell by their faces.” He stroked Sam’s flank. “You gonna show ‘em you’re mine?”
Sam blew out a sharp breath through his nose. “Yeah.”
“Come on, baby boy. Show ‘em how bad you want me.”
Sam sat up and ran his hands down his chest, grinding against Dean, making him bite his lip at the feel of Sam’s cock practically bursting out of his jeans. “Yeah, sweetheart. There you go.”
Sam undulated on Dean’s lap, body rolling fluid and supple, muscles popping out in sequence. He closed his eyes, stroking his hand down his stomach, and opened them again with a little smile for Dean, like he was starting to feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him. Like he was starting to like it.
Sam leaned forward and began kissing Dean again, loose and pliant, breathing in the scent of his cologne, moaning into Dean’s mouth softly. Dean placed his hands on either side of Sam’s face and kissed back, deep and avid, rocking up into Sam’s grinding hips.
Sam moaned louder.
Richard made a signal with his hands. The music stopped.
“You like that, Sammy?” Dean’s voice rang through the quiet room.
Sam practically sobbed, “Yeah.”
“You know everyone is watching you, right?”
Again, a near-sob. “Yeah.”
“You want more?”
This time, Sam’s voice was low, rough. Demanding. “Yes.”
“Tell me.”
Sam swayed a little in Dean’s lap. “What you said.”
Dean’s smile was wicked. “What’d I say?”
“That you’d spank my ass raw in front of everyone. And fuck me while they watched.”
Someone dropped a glass, shattering on the floor.
Dean looked over Sam’s shoulder at their host. “Your club, man. How far can we run with this?”
Richard raised his glass. “By all means. Give the boy what he wants.”
Dean traced his fingertips across Sam’s chest lightly, dropped them to his nipples and pinched them. Sam made a little sound, leaned back and bracing his hands behind him on Dean’s knees, offering himself to Dean.
Dean pinched harder. Sam shuddered, biting his lip.
Harder.
Sam was panting, arching up into it. Murmurs from the crowd.
Harder.
Sam cried out, but didn’t pull away.
Dean released his grip, pulled Sam up, devoured his mouth, stroking his hair. “So good for me, Sammy. So fucking good.”
Sam basked in the praise.
Dean pulled back, eyeing Sam’s mouth, looking back up into Sam’s eyes.
He didn’t even have to say it. Sam was sliding off his lap, kneeling before him. “Dean.”
Dean unbuckled his belt, undid his jeans and pulled his cock free.
Someone whistled. Dean blushed.
But within a half a second, he forgot all about that because Sam’s mouth was on him, warm and wet.
Sam was sucking his cock in front of God and everyone.
Dean was SO not going to last.
He let his head fall back against the back of the couch with a groan.
Richard was right there next to him, not touching. Careful not to touch. But he brought his glass of Pappy Van Winkle to Dean’s mouth, tipping the bourbon into Dean’s mouth. The liquid flowed over his tongue as Sam lapped at his cock. Dean swallowed and erupted in a full-body shiver. “Jesus, Sammy, not gonna last…”
Sam looked up at him, eyes huge and dark, and sucked his cock like it’s all he ever wanted. Richard brought the glass to Dean’s lips again. “Come on. Come for us.”
Dean took the whiskey into his mouth, held it there, hands reaching for Sam’s, gripping his thighs hard. Sam grabbed onto his forearms, his hands latching onto Sam’s. Sam sealed his mouth around the head of his cock and sucked hard.
Dean swallowed the whiskey and cried out, hips bucking as he came hard and long.
Sam swallowed the come Dean gave him, moaning at the taste, sucking softer to kick off some aftershocks, lapping up the extra drops come he urged out of him.
Sam held Dean in his mouth gently, careful not to overstimulate him.
Dean stroked his hair, and glanced up.
They were surrounded by a circle of men, not leering or eyeing them lasciviously, but staring at them in awe and wonder.
Sam let Dean’s softening cock slip out of his mouth. “You promised.”
Dean sat up, pulled Sam to his feet and stood.
Dean reached for Sam’s belt, undid it, pulled it free of the belt loops. He pressed his hand against Sam’s cock, straining beneath the denim. Sam whined, pushing his hips forward. Dean chuckled. “So needy.”
He reached for the buttons of Sam’s jeans.
“Here we go,” someone said. “Shh,” someone else replied.
Dean undid the zipper and pulled Sam’s jeans down to just below the bottom curve of his ass. Sam’s massive cock was freed, gloriously erect and huge.
“You owe me fifty bucks,” someone muttered.
Dean ran his hand over the sleek curve of Sam’s ass. “You’re sure, Sammy?”
Sam’s pupils were dilated, his mouth parted, his breath came fast and shallow. “Dean. Please.”
“I want you naked.”
Sam closed his eyes and groaned. Then he took his boots off.
“Come on, baby boy.”
Sam looked over his shoulder at the people assembled around him, for the first time. His mouth curled into a little smile.
Dean stood right up against him, his body touching Sam’s. He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder.
Sam peeled his jeans off, watching everyone watching him.
“Good boy.”
Sam gasped.
He was totally naked, rock hard, in front of a bunch of strangers.
“They love it. Love looking at you.” Dean stroked Sam’s back. “You like them looking at you?”
Sam’s voice was hushed. “Yeah.”
Dean had a sudden idea. “Touch yourself.” He moved his hand to the back of Sam’s hair, wrapped his fingers in it, tightening ever so slightly. “Give them a good show.”
Sam took his cock in his right hand and began working it slow. More than one person in the crowd groaned audibly.
“Yeah.” “Jack it.” “Harder.”
Dean moved to stand right behind Sam, pressed up against him tight. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s chest, playing with his nipples, talking in his ear. “There you go, baby boy. So good. You love them watching you. I fucking knew you would. Christ, so fucking hot. Wanted to do this for so long. Come on, fuck your fist.” Dean tugged on Sam’s nipples and brought his mouth right next to the sensitive spot behind Sam’s right ear. “Such a good little slut for me.”
And Sam arched his back, throwing his head back against Dean, fisting his cock furiously, surprised that he was coming, and coming so hard. And so much.
More than one man was on his knees in front of another man now, unable to merely be spectators in the face of the searing hotness that was Sam and Dean gone slutty and feral.
“Sam. Sammy. So good. Yeah. Come for me. So fucking beautiful when you come.” Dean coaxed a massive aftershock out of Sam with just his voice.
He murmured praise, brushing his soft mouth against the back of Sam’s neck, making him shiver.
“If you want, we can go home now.”
Sam spun around, threw his arms around Dean. “You promised. You promised.”
“I love you so much, I can’t even… fuck, Sammy.”
And Sam, his beautiful slutty Sam, leaned forward, bracing his palms against the back of the couch, that beautiful ass on display for Dean, looked back over his shoulder and said, “Do it.”
Final chapter: Communion
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And Dean DID promise to spank him. I'll be sitting here staring at my screen. No rush. :)
(Did someone really steal your story? #fail)
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And yes, Dean made a promise. And Dean always keeps his word to Sammy.
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why did it end?
that is one of the harshest cliffhangers I have yet to be dangling from.
Soon. please, update soon
I'll try!
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I LIVE FOR SPANKING! (sorry, inner voice decided to come out and play)
Eeeeep to you not feeling well. Go take care of yourself!
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Oh. My. God.
Must have more.
Am dying.
Hurry.
PLEASE!
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<3
Edit: Just reread this. Shouldn't this last line say "Dean"? "that beautiful ass on display for Sam,"
Going to finish reading this verse and then I'll be in my bunk!
<3
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2 - see my recent entry. I think you'll like it and i thought of you.