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justinedelargeTitle: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 52: Ho Ho Ho
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest, oral sex
Word Count: 2000
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters.
Summary: Sam and Dean continue to enjoy their time alone on Christmas Day. A little angst, lots of porn.
Dean brought Sam into the bathroom to clean up. Despite all the times he’d eased Sam’s panic in the shower since they’d rescued him from Earle Spivey, Sam’s fear in the water was still sharp. And this time, with both of them just having come, Dean couldn’t rely on sexual contact to distract Sam. Sam hissed as the water hit him, partly due to the sting of it on Dean’s initials cut into his skin, and partly due to a surge of panic.
“Hey. Hey, Sammy. You’re good. I got you.” Dean blocked Sam from most of the shower spray, and rubbed his back.
Sam’s eyes were wild, pupils wide. “Gotta be quick. I can’t…”
Dean nodded. “Get your hair wet.” He spun Sam and backed him into the spray. Sam’s breath hitched. Dean reached over and turned the shower off. “It’s ok. No water. You can breathe. Right? Take a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth. ” Sam did, shuddering, one arm braced on the white tile. Dean quickly soaped up Sam’s hair, lathered his hand with bar soap and washed Sam down with efficiency, as Sam squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.
“Ok. Just gotta rinse you off.” Dean turned on the water again, quickly rinsing the shampoo from Sam’s hair. Sam trembled, shaking his head. “Dean, I—“
The shower water spilled over Sam’s head. Over his face, into his open mouth. Sam pushed past Dean and out of the shower, standing in the middle of the bathroom with his head bowed, water dripping off him onto the floor.
Dean killed the water and stepped out. “Sam?”
Sam didn’t move, eyes focused blankly on the far wall, taking deep breaths through his mouth and blowing the air out in sharp exhalations. Dean pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped it around Sam’s shoulders.
Sam flinched.“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize, Sammy. Not for this. Not for… don’t you dare.”
Sam wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. “It’s just a damn shower. I know. I’m just…too fucking weak to handle it.”
Dean gripped the front of the towel, pulling Sam toward him. Sam tensed, expecting a big, forceful speech.
“Shhh.” He kissed Sam’s nose. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He toweled Sam’s skin gently. So gently. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Sammy.” He brought the towel up to Sam’s dripping hair, dried it off. He grabbed another towel, and smoothed it over Sam’s back, around his sides, down his thighs, kneeling in the huge puddle of water to dry Sam’s legs. He looked up at Sam. “What you endured. And you never begged.”
Sam’s face flushed, seeing the pride spill over Dean’s face. The love in his eyes.
"After what happened? This is normal. Even for someone extraordinary like you.” Dean stood up and brought the towel to Sam’s face, wiping away the moisture there.
Sam looked him in the eyes, breathing starting to normalize. “Extraordinary?”
Dean’s face creased into a huge smile. “Duh. You don’t know that? How don’t you know that?” Dean brushed his mouth against Sam’s. “Guess I’ll have to keep telling you.”
Sam carefully dried the cuts on his abdomen and put antibiotic ointment on, and taped a gauze square over it, snugging it down on all four sides. Dean hopped back in the shower and quickly cleaned up. Sam, out of fair play or simple playfulness, insisted on Dean standing still while Sam toweled him off, rubbing him vigorously until his skin was pink and Dean was laughing.
He also insisted on dressing Dean’s cuts. And then he insisted on Christmas cartoons.
They put on their most comfortable t-shirts, donned their sweatpants and wore their softest, thickest socks. Dean turned the heat up. Sam flipped through the channels until he landed on the Grinch Who Stole Christmas.
“Awesome.” Dean settled down on the couch, moving a little gingerly. Sam leaned back and put his arm around Dean. They watched the whole thing. “When we get a dog, I wanna name him Max.” Sam said.
“Alright.” Dean wiggled so he slotted in next to Sam even closer.
When that ended, the channel began playing Miracle on 34th Street.
“Hell no,” they both said in unison.
Dean chuckled and grabbed the remote. “My pick.” Sam sat back, pursing his lips into that funny shape that pretended to be a bitch face but was really thinly veiled amusement. Dean cycled through the channels until the screen showed a barefoot Bruce Willis scrunching his toes on the carpet. “Son of a bitch.” McClane gave a little laugh. “Fists with your toes.”
Dean fell back against the couch and tossed the remote over his shoulder.
Sam snorted.
“What? It’s a Christmas movie. It’s an awesome Christmas movie.”
And Sam had to agree, it was. He even dissolved into giggles at the bloody t-shirt reading, “Ho ho ho. Now I have a machine gun.”
The movie came to its bloody and gloriously violent conclusion, ending with McClane in the back of the limo, kissing his wife as Nakatomi Plaza burns.Dean leaned in and kissed Sam. He picked up Sam’s right hand and squeezed it, running his thumb over the silver ring on his finger. “Gonna make you my wife, Sammy.”
Sam cocked his head. “Wife?”
Dean’s expression clearly registered a baffled “Of course.”
Sam shook his head. “Dean. Neither of us has to be ‘the wife.’ We’re just…us. Together. I mean, it’s not like I’m always gonna be the one who gets…” Sam blushed.
“That is just about the most fucking adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” Dean smoothed Sam’s hair out of his face. “I love it when you’re shy.”
“I’m not, right? Always going to… I mean… when I… you liked it, right?”
Dean’s face turned from loving amusement to something sharper, more heated. “When you fucked me?”
Sam swallowed.
“Yeah.” Dean licked his lower lip, eyes locked onto Sam’s. “I liked it.”
“So… I can…”
“Hell yeah. But I ought to make you have to say it before you get to do it.” Dean dug his teeth into his lip at the expression on Sam’s face. “I like it when you talk dirty.”
Sam’s face turned even more bright red. “Dean.”
Dean’s mouth twitched. “Say it, baby boy. Tell me what you want.”
Sam ducked his head, then lifted it again. “I want… to be inside you.”
“There. Was that so hard?” Dean threw a leg over, straddling Sam. “Ah. Yeah. It is.” He ground against Sam, already erect. “You get so hard for me, baby boy. So fast.” Dean’s voice was lower, rougher. “Yeah. You can do that. Tonight.”
Sam shivered, hands gripping Dean’s back.
“But you’ll have to say it. And not like that.” Dean brought his lips to Sam’s neck, breathed out, traced the tip of his tongue behind Sam’s ear, teasing that spot that made him shiver and arch his back. “Gonna have to tell me how bad you want to fuck me, sweetheart.” Sam gasped. “Tell me how much you want to put your cock in my ass.”
Sam slid his hands up underneath Dean’s t-shirt, lightly scraping his nails along the thick cords of muscle.
Dean slipped off Sam’s lap and slid onto the carpet between Sam’s legs. “Christ, Sam, I just want us to fuck all day, every day. See how many times I could get you to come for me.” He pulled Sam’s sweats down, exposing Sam’s hard, curving cock. He gripped Sam’s hands in his, squeezing tightly, the hard silver ring on Sam’s right hand pressing almost painfully against the side of his finger. He brought that hand to his mouth, kissed Sam’s ring. Sam mirrored him, pulling Dean’s right hand to his mouth and kissing it. Then Dean dropped his mouth lower, took Sam into his mouth.
He took his sweet time, lavishing Sam with attention, lapping slowly along the shaft gazing into Sam’s eyes the way Sam loved, his pupils dilated so wide he looked high. Dean ran his tongue around the head of Sam’s cock, moaning at the drop of precome he coaxed out. “You taste so good, Sammy.” Dean nursed on the end to draw more out, making Sam shiver like electricity was coursing through him. He kept his eyes on Sam’s, knowing full well the effect of the sight of Dean Winchester on his knees sucking cock. And he played it, lowering his thick eyelashes with a groan, opening them again slowly, rubbing the head of Sam’s cock all over his pretty pink lips, sucking as he lowered his mouth all the way down, swallowing Sam to the base, sucking as he drew his mouth back up, jacking his cock as he dropped his mouth down, lapping at Sam’s balls, drawing them into his mouth and sucking on them gently, tugging until Sam made the pretty little moans and cries Dean needed like he needed air. “Gonna come in my mouth, baby boy? Gonna come for me?”
Sam nodded, unable to form words, and Dean sank his mouth back down, working the base with his hand, rising and falling in tandem with his mouth, keeping it nice and wet, working the top half with his lips sealed tight, tongue stroking the underside, using suction but not too much, the way he’d deciphered Sam loved best. Sam loved Dean’s velvet mouth, not the kind of blow job that could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. So Dean caressed and stroked Sam’s cock with his mouth, moaning at how good he felt in Dean’s mouth, the pure sensuousness of what he was doing making his own cock pulse with pleasure, heavy and thick between his legs.
“Dean… oh god. Dean.” His voice was soft, achingly genuine.“You’re gonna make me come.”
Dean pulled his mouth off just long enough to say, “Yeah. Wanna taste you.” He went back to doing exactly what he was doing before, mouth rising and falling, slick and soft, hand working the base, cradling Sam’s balls in the other hand. Sam cried out, and again, louder, hands scrabbling to grip Dean’s shoulders, and then the flood spilling over his tongue, the first pulse warm and sharp and salty and somehow still sweet, and the second pulse of that briny mineral tang that tasted better than it had any right to. Dean swallowed, and Sam cried out louder, called Dean’s name, and pulsed into Dean’s mouth again and again.
Dean swallowed every bit of it, Sam’s cock twitching in his mouth, softly drew his lips together and coaxed out a few more drops, and then held him inside his mouth gently, knowing any movement would overstimulate him and feel like pain. After a moment, Sam went to pull out, and Dean shook his head no. He held him in his mouth until his cock had softened completely, loathe to let go.
Sam slid off the couch, on his knees in front of Dean, and kissed him, moaning at the taste of himself in Dean’s mouth. Dean gasped at how hungrily Sam licked into his mouth, hips bucking against Sam’s thigh. “My turn,” Sam breathed into Dean’s mouth.
He pushed Dean down onto his back, pulled his sweats down, and sucked Dean into his mouth like a man on a mission. Dean liked it harder than Sam, with more suction, and Sam gave him exactly what he needed. Within a minute, Dean was spasming, warm shivery tingles everywhere, up his spine, down his chest, along his jaw, rippling down his arms and legs, and the pleasure so sharp it felt almost impossible to bear rising from the center of him. “Fuck, Sam, oh god, oh god, Sammy, Sam…” Sam wrapped his hands behind Dean’s lower back and sucked hard, hair flaring out as he tossed his head, mouth locked on Dean’s cock, demanding his orgasm.
Dean came for his Sammy, came in his mouth, just like Sam wanted him to. And Sam drank him in, swallowed him like a sacrament.
Author:
justinedelargeFandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest, oral sex
Word Count: 2000
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters.
Summary: Sam and Dean continue to enjoy their time alone on Christmas Day. A little angst, lots of porn.
“Hey. Hey, Sammy. You’re good. I got you.” Dean blocked Sam from most of the shower spray, and rubbed his back.
Sam’s eyes were wild, pupils wide. “Gotta be quick. I can’t…”
Dean nodded. “Get your hair wet.” He spun Sam and backed him into the spray. Sam’s breath hitched. Dean reached over and turned the shower off. “It’s ok. No water. You can breathe. Right? Take a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth. ” Sam did, shuddering, one arm braced on the white tile. Dean quickly soaped up Sam’s hair, lathered his hand with bar soap and washed Sam down with efficiency, as Sam squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.
“Ok. Just gotta rinse you off.” Dean turned on the water again, quickly rinsing the shampoo from Sam’s hair. Sam trembled, shaking his head. “Dean, I—“
The shower water spilled over Sam’s head. Over his face, into his open mouth. Sam pushed past Dean and out of the shower, standing in the middle of the bathroom with his head bowed, water dripping off him onto the floor.
Dean killed the water and stepped out. “Sam?”
Sam didn’t move, eyes focused blankly on the far wall, taking deep breaths through his mouth and blowing the air out in sharp exhalations. Dean pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped it around Sam’s shoulders.
Sam flinched.“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize, Sammy. Not for this. Not for… don’t you dare.”
Sam wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. “It’s just a damn shower. I know. I’m just…too fucking weak to handle it.”
Dean gripped the front of the towel, pulling Sam toward him. Sam tensed, expecting a big, forceful speech.
“Shhh.” He kissed Sam’s nose. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He toweled Sam’s skin gently. So gently. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Sammy.” He brought the towel up to Sam’s dripping hair, dried it off. He grabbed another towel, and smoothed it over Sam’s back, around his sides, down his thighs, kneeling in the huge puddle of water to dry Sam’s legs. He looked up at Sam. “What you endured. And you never begged.”
Sam’s face flushed, seeing the pride spill over Dean’s face. The love in his eyes.
"After what happened? This is normal. Even for someone extraordinary like you.” Dean stood up and brought the towel to Sam’s face, wiping away the moisture there.
Sam looked him in the eyes, breathing starting to normalize. “Extraordinary?”
Dean’s face creased into a huge smile. “Duh. You don’t know that? How don’t you know that?” Dean brushed his mouth against Sam’s. “Guess I’ll have to keep telling you.”
Sam carefully dried the cuts on his abdomen and put antibiotic ointment on, and taped a gauze square over it, snugging it down on all four sides. Dean hopped back in the shower and quickly cleaned up. Sam, out of fair play or simple playfulness, insisted on Dean standing still while Sam toweled him off, rubbing him vigorously until his skin was pink and Dean was laughing.
He also insisted on dressing Dean’s cuts. And then he insisted on Christmas cartoons.
They put on their most comfortable t-shirts, donned their sweatpants and wore their softest, thickest socks. Dean turned the heat up. Sam flipped through the channels until he landed on the Grinch Who Stole Christmas.
“Awesome.” Dean settled down on the couch, moving a little gingerly. Sam leaned back and put his arm around Dean. They watched the whole thing. “When we get a dog, I wanna name him Max.” Sam said.
“Alright.” Dean wiggled so he slotted in next to Sam even closer.
When that ended, the channel began playing Miracle on 34th Street.
“Hell no,” they both said in unison.
Dean chuckled and grabbed the remote. “My pick.” Sam sat back, pursing his lips into that funny shape that pretended to be a bitch face but was really thinly veiled amusement. Dean cycled through the channels until the screen showed a barefoot Bruce Willis scrunching his toes on the carpet. “Son of a bitch.” McClane gave a little laugh. “Fists with your toes.”
Dean fell back against the couch and tossed the remote over his shoulder.
Sam snorted.
“What? It’s a Christmas movie. It’s an awesome Christmas movie.”
And Sam had to agree, it was. He even dissolved into giggles at the bloody t-shirt reading, “Ho ho ho. Now I have a machine gun.”
The movie came to its bloody and gloriously violent conclusion, ending with McClane in the back of the limo, kissing his wife as Nakatomi Plaza burns.Dean leaned in and kissed Sam. He picked up Sam’s right hand and squeezed it, running his thumb over the silver ring on his finger. “Gonna make you my wife, Sammy.”
Sam cocked his head. “Wife?”
Dean’s expression clearly registered a baffled “Of course.”
Sam shook his head. “Dean. Neither of us has to be ‘the wife.’ We’re just…us. Together. I mean, it’s not like I’m always gonna be the one who gets…” Sam blushed.
“That is just about the most fucking adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” Dean smoothed Sam’s hair out of his face. “I love it when you’re shy.”
“I’m not, right? Always going to… I mean… when I… you liked it, right?”
Dean’s face turned from loving amusement to something sharper, more heated. “When you fucked me?”
Sam swallowed.
“Yeah.” Dean licked his lower lip, eyes locked onto Sam’s. “I liked it.”
“So… I can…”
“Hell yeah. But I ought to make you have to say it before you get to do it.” Dean dug his teeth into his lip at the expression on Sam’s face. “I like it when you talk dirty.”
Sam’s face turned even more bright red. “Dean.”
Dean’s mouth twitched. “Say it, baby boy. Tell me what you want.”
Sam ducked his head, then lifted it again. “I want… to be inside you.”
“There. Was that so hard?” Dean threw a leg over, straddling Sam. “Ah. Yeah. It is.” He ground against Sam, already erect. “You get so hard for me, baby boy. So fast.” Dean’s voice was lower, rougher. “Yeah. You can do that. Tonight.”
Sam shivered, hands gripping Dean’s back.
“But you’ll have to say it. And not like that.” Dean brought his lips to Sam’s neck, breathed out, traced the tip of his tongue behind Sam’s ear, teasing that spot that made him shiver and arch his back. “Gonna have to tell me how bad you want to fuck me, sweetheart.” Sam gasped. “Tell me how much you want to put your cock in my ass.”
Sam slid his hands up underneath Dean’s t-shirt, lightly scraping his nails along the thick cords of muscle.
Dean slipped off Sam’s lap and slid onto the carpet between Sam’s legs. “Christ, Sam, I just want us to fuck all day, every day. See how many times I could get you to come for me.” He pulled Sam’s sweats down, exposing Sam’s hard, curving cock. He gripped Sam’s hands in his, squeezing tightly, the hard silver ring on Sam’s right hand pressing almost painfully against the side of his finger. He brought that hand to his mouth, kissed Sam’s ring. Sam mirrored him, pulling Dean’s right hand to his mouth and kissing it. Then Dean dropped his mouth lower, took Sam into his mouth.
He took his sweet time, lavishing Sam with attention, lapping slowly along the shaft gazing into Sam’s eyes the way Sam loved, his pupils dilated so wide he looked high. Dean ran his tongue around the head of Sam’s cock, moaning at the drop of precome he coaxed out. “You taste so good, Sammy.” Dean nursed on the end to draw more out, making Sam shiver like electricity was coursing through him. He kept his eyes on Sam’s, knowing full well the effect of the sight of Dean Winchester on his knees sucking cock. And he played it, lowering his thick eyelashes with a groan, opening them again slowly, rubbing the head of Sam’s cock all over his pretty pink lips, sucking as he lowered his mouth all the way down, swallowing Sam to the base, sucking as he drew his mouth back up, jacking his cock as he dropped his mouth down, lapping at Sam’s balls, drawing them into his mouth and sucking on them gently, tugging until Sam made the pretty little moans and cries Dean needed like he needed air. “Gonna come in my mouth, baby boy? Gonna come for me?”
Sam nodded, unable to form words, and Dean sank his mouth back down, working the base with his hand, rising and falling in tandem with his mouth, keeping it nice and wet, working the top half with his lips sealed tight, tongue stroking the underside, using suction but not too much, the way he’d deciphered Sam loved best. Sam loved Dean’s velvet mouth, not the kind of blow job that could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. So Dean caressed and stroked Sam’s cock with his mouth, moaning at how good he felt in Dean’s mouth, the pure sensuousness of what he was doing making his own cock pulse with pleasure, heavy and thick between his legs.
“Dean… oh god. Dean.” His voice was soft, achingly genuine.“You’re gonna make me come.”
Dean pulled his mouth off just long enough to say, “Yeah. Wanna taste you.” He went back to doing exactly what he was doing before, mouth rising and falling, slick and soft, hand working the base, cradling Sam’s balls in the other hand. Sam cried out, and again, louder, hands scrabbling to grip Dean’s shoulders, and then the flood spilling over his tongue, the first pulse warm and sharp and salty and somehow still sweet, and the second pulse of that briny mineral tang that tasted better than it had any right to. Dean swallowed, and Sam cried out louder, called Dean’s name, and pulsed into Dean’s mouth again and again.
Dean swallowed every bit of it, Sam’s cock twitching in his mouth, softly drew his lips together and coaxed out a few more drops, and then held him inside his mouth gently, knowing any movement would overstimulate him and feel like pain. After a moment, Sam went to pull out, and Dean shook his head no. He held him in his mouth until his cock had softened completely, loathe to let go.
Sam slid off the couch, on his knees in front of Dean, and kissed him, moaning at the taste of himself in Dean’s mouth. Dean gasped at how hungrily Sam licked into his mouth, hips bucking against Sam’s thigh. “My turn,” Sam breathed into Dean’s mouth.
He pushed Dean down onto his back, pulled his sweats down, and sucked Dean into his mouth like a man on a mission. Dean liked it harder than Sam, with more suction, and Sam gave him exactly what he needed. Within a minute, Dean was spasming, warm shivery tingles everywhere, up his spine, down his chest, along his jaw, rippling down his arms and legs, and the pleasure so sharp it felt almost impossible to bear rising from the center of him. “Fuck, Sam, oh god, oh god, Sammy, Sam…” Sam wrapped his hands behind Dean’s lower back and sucked hard, hair flaring out as he tossed his head, mouth locked on Dean’s cock, demanding his orgasm.
Dean came for his Sammy, came in his mouth, just like Sam wanted him to. And Sam drank him in, swallowed him like a sacrament.
