Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 69: 69
Aug. 8th, 2013 12:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
justinedelargeTitle: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 69: 69
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest,
Word Count: 3300
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters and my plot.
Summary: Sam and Dean reconnect privately after the intense revelations of the talk with Bobby.
Master post of all chapters here
Sam and Dean and Reggie and Bobby sat in the living room, drinking tea (with everyone’s second cups laced with whiskey). Conversation was kept light. Bobby still had a lot to talk about, particularly the Boy King business, but after what had just transpired, everyone needed to release tension and recharge their batteries.
Dean put his arm around Sam. Out of habit, he looked at Bobby warily.
“Doesn’t bother me any.” Bobby settled back in his recliner. “Now, I don’t wanna see nothin’. If you catch my drift. But holding hands and kissing and stuff like that? Don’t even worry about it.”
Sam blinked fast, shoulders rising and falling with a deep sigh.
Bobby put on a stern expression. “No tongue, though, alright?”
Dean shook his head like a dog shaking off water. “Yeah, no.”
Sam’s eyelids were getting heavy. He sat up straight and drank more tea, but he was clearly fatigued, shaking his head to keep himself alert. Bobby watched Sam, remembering all the times Sam had fought to stay awake to keep listening to the grownups’ conversation, his head flopping forward as he nodded off and jerking it back up, his little eyebrows furrowed with determination to stay up, but invariably his head falling forward again until Bobby or John picked him up and carried him, arms and legs dangling, to bed.
Bobby made a big show of yawning. “I’m wiped out. Those pain meds she gave me are something else.”
Dean nodded vigorously. “No joke.”
“I know we still got a lot to talk about, but you mind if we picked it up later? I need some shut-eye.”
“Sure.” Sam looked grateful. Dean got up and bent over the recliner to give Bobby a long hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. He thumped Bobby’s shoulder.
“Nothing to thank me for.”
It was Sam’s turn. He kneeled down on the right side of the recliner, so he wouldn’t bump Bobby’s left knee, leaned in and nestled in his arms. Dean couldn’t tell who needed that hug more: Sam or Bobby.
Sam also whispered something, something that made Bobby’s chest heave and his body jerk with silent sobs.
Finally, Bobby let go of Sam, and wiped his hand over his eyes and face. The haunted, guilty look in his eyes was no longer there. It was the face of a man who had been forgiven.
~
Sam took Dean’s hand, and with a nod to Reggie, led him out the door.
Once inside, Dean washed his hands and put more ointment on his stitches, popped open the bottle of Advil and spilled three tablets into the palm of his hand.
“It hurts?”
“Not really.” Dean worked his jaw, testing, fingers pressed to the hinges. “This is prophylactic.” The smile that spread across his face left no doubt in Sam’s mind as to what Dean had in mind, and why he thought taking pain medication ahead of time was a wise precaution.
Sam bit his lower lip. “I love it when you talk smart.”
Dean swallowed the pills with some water. “I thought you liked it when I talked dirty.”
“That too.” Sam reached up his hand and ghosted his fingertips over Dean’s lips. “What do you want?”
Dean caught his breath at the bold innocence of Sam’s words.
“Wanna put my mouth on you.” His eyes traced the line of Sam’s body, all the way down and back up. “Wanna put my mouth all over you.”
Sam made a little sound in his throat. He kissed Dean softly. “Be right back.” He disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the tap running gurgled faintly through the door. When he emerged and saw the look on Dean’s face, avid and hungry, he blushed.
“What’d you do in there, Sammy?”
Sam blushed harder. “You—you said you wanted to put your mouth all over me.”
Dean smirked. He loved this part, when Sam was still shy and sweet, before the inhibitions dissolved under the force of Dean’s love and desire for him. “Yeah? So what did you do?”
Sam tilted his head as if to say, You know. Don’t make me say it.
“Did you get yourself clean for me, Sammy? So I could put my mouth on you?” He stepped close, ran his hands down Sam’s back, and rested his hands lightly on his hips.
Sam swallowed hard and nodded.
Dean eyed him, enjoying the color on his cheeks so very much, the little blush and stammer that only he brought out. He looked at Sam’s mouth and back up at his pretty hazel eyes. “Where?”
“Down there. You know. Everywhere.”
Dean moved his thumbs in little circles on Sam’s hipbones. “Sam.” His voice was fireplace embers and 25 year old Scotch. “Where exactly?” He knew before too long Sam would be begging him to fuck him, writhing and moaning and holding himself open. But now. Right now, he rode that edge. That sweet shyness about to give way to abandon, when simply naming body parts made Sam shiver and turn red…oh, Dean loved this part.
Sam moved in closer, too shy to say it while Dean was looking at his face, murmured into Dean’s neck, “My, uh, my ass.”
Dean practically purred. He smoothed Sam’s hair back. “That’s where you want me to put my mouth?”
“God. Everywhere. But yeah.”
“You miss that, sweetheart?”
Sam swallowed, muscles of his throat working.
“Miss me tasting you there?’
Sam exhaled audibly. Dean moved his hands down over the curve of Sam’s ass, slipping his index finger between Sam’s cheeks. “Miss me licking you open?”
Sam was painfully hard already, hips bucking forward slightly as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Dean brought his other hand between them, brushed his palm against Sam’s cock. “Or maybe you want my mouth here.”
“Guh,” Sam answered.
Dean pressed harder with his index finger, massaging Sam’s center. “Or here. What do you want, Sammy?”
Sam moved in Dean’s arms, looked into his eyes. “Everything,” he breathed.
“Greedy little Sammy,” Dean chuckled. He gripped Sam’s cock harder, making him gasp, and circled his finger with more pressure. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna give you everything.”
Sam’s breath came faster. “I want it.” Already, that shyness was giving way. “I want you.”
“I can tell.” Dean’s voice was soft and low.
Sam moved his hips forward, pressing into Dean’s hand, and then back, arching against his finger. “Dean…” His voice thrummed with need.
Dean eyed Sam’s mouth, that perfect pink bow, just the right warmth and shape and texture, just perfect for him. “Gonna put my mouth all over you, baby boy. But first…” He eyed Sam’s mouth. “First…” He closed the distance between them, brought his lips to Sam’s.
Being careful not to press his stitches against Sam’s face, he kissed Sam with all the nuance and skill he had in him. Dean Winchester could make (had made) girls go shivery, weak-kneed, literally unable to stand just from kissing them. But all those kisses were nothing like how he kissed his Sammy. He opened Sam up, claiming every bit of that soft, smooth flesh, teasing the seam, making his lips open to Dean, insinuating his tongue where only he got to explore. He tasted every part of Sam’s mouth, sliding his tongue along the inside of Sam’s lower lip, making him shiver, licking lightly at the corners of Sam’s mouth just to remind him who he belonged to, twining along Sam’s tongue, coaxing it out, sucking on it gently until Sam shivered and moaned, then pushing his tongue into Sam’s mouth, urging Sam to do the same to him. He moaned with pleasure, letting Sam know he was doing it right, doing it so right. “God I’ve missed this,” he whispered. He brought his hands to the side of Sam’s face, thumbs stroking his jaw line, fingers massaging his scalp, and kissed Sam like he wanted to make him come just from that, nipping on his lower lip, tongue exploring more insistently, back curving as he pushed into Sam.
Sam quivered, all parts of him softening and yielding but one. He moaned into Dean’s mouth and Dean knew, he just knew he could make Sam come just from kissing him if he had the patience.
But he had so much he couldn’t wait to do.
“Where?” He pressed his forehead against Sam’s.
“Where what?” Sam shivered, a full-body tremor that started at his neck and rattled its way to his toes.
“Bed? Couch? Kitchen counter? Up against the door? Right here on the carpet?”
The muscles in Sam’s jaw fluttered. Dean smiled. “Carpet it is.”
He pulled his shirt off, slowly, enjoying how Sam’s eyes widened at the sight of him. He let his hands rest on his belt buckle. Sam licked his lips, involuntarily. Dean chuckled. “You wanna put your mouth on me too, Sam?”
Sam sank to his knees on the carpet.
Dean ran his hand through Sam’s hair. “I want to do things to you first.”
“Just let me taste.” Sam looked up at Dean like he was in church and Dean was a religious icon.
Dean undid his buckle, and let his pants drop to his ankles. Sam pulled down the edge of his boxer-briefs, worrying the tip of his tongue into the slit of Dean’s cock, drawing out the sweet, clear fluid.
Dean groaned. Sam suckled harder, trying to get more pre-come out of him. Dean’s hips bucked, a sharp shock of pleasure reverberating through him. “Hey. Hey. You first.”
“Dean.” Sam knelt before Dean, cheeks flushed rosy, head tipped upward. He held Dean’s cock in both hands, palms pressed to either side, fingers pointing up like his hands were folded in prayer. “Please.”
Dean placed two fingers under Sam’s chin, tipped his face up, and said, “How fast can you make me come, Sammy?”
Sam took Dean into his mouth, silken heat and wetness, and showed him how fast. He moaned at the taste of Dean flooding over his tongue (this is my blood, thought Sam), accepting all of it, wasting not even a single drop.
“Fuck, Sam…” Dean stroked Sam’s head.
“Took the edge off. Now you can take all the time you want.”
Dean’s mouth twitched. “Careful what you ask for, baby boy.” He eyed Sam with mischief in his eyes. “’Cause now I’m gonna tease it out twice as long.”
Sam rested his cheek on the sweat-damp skin of Dean’s lower abdomen, right where his initials were. “Good.”
Dean pulled Sam to his feet, and stripped his shirt off. “You’re in for it now.” They stripped off the rest of their clothes, tossing them to the side. “On your back,” Dean commanded.
Sam complied, stretching himself out for Dean, a smile on his face Dean had never seen before. There was a quiet confidence in it, something close to relief.
Dean knelt over Sam, brushed his mouth over Sam’s. “Yeah, gonna take my time with you.” His mouth moved to Sam’s neck, tip of his tongue teasing Sam’s ear. “But I’m not gonna let you come so fast.” Down to the hollow of Sam’s neck.
Sam arched his back. “Do it.”
“Bossy little bottom, aren’t you.”
“I’m not a bottom.”
Dean blinked. It was true. They switched, equals in all things. “You are tonight.” He ran his hands down Sam’s flanks and squeezed his ass.
Sam exhaled through his nose, a snort, color high in his cheeks. “Stop talking and put your mouth on me, Dean.”
Dean trailed his mouth down Sam’s chest to his right nipple. He licked at it, swirling his tongue around it, then blew across it. The flesh hardened, Sam arching his back into it. Dean did it again, using his teeth just a bit, getting the erect nipple nice and wet, then blowing across it again.
Sam clenched his hands into fists as Dean slowly worked his way across to the other nipple, brushing his lips over it, coaxing it erect, teasing it with his mouth and tongue until Sam was panting.
Dean moved up to Sam’s mouth again, kissing him slowly, tasting himself. They both moaned.
Dean worked his way down Sam’s chest again, slowly mouthing at the skin of Sam’s stomach, moving over to lavish the side of his ribcage with attention, the indentation of his hip, down to his lower abdomen. Sam spread his thighs, urging Dean on wordlessly. Dean moved his mouth lower, lower still, and moved to the right side, licking and mouthing at the flesh of his inner thigh, completely bypassing his cock.
Sam swore and bit his lip. Dean licked and kissed all the way down Sam’s inner thigh, down his calf, back up the front and side, covering every inch. He moved to Sam’s abdomen, tracing his initials with his tongue.
Sam gasped, arched his back, spread his thighs wide, begging Dean with his whole body.
Dean moved across and began working his way down Sam’s other leg, pressing his inner thigh wide open, licking at the seam between his thigh and his cock, but steadfastly not touching his cock.
“Dean, god. Please.”
“Good start.” Dean grinned. “Not enough, though.” He licked down Sam’s inner thigh. Sam’s head fell back with a whimper.
The sounds continued. Breathy moans, gasps as Dean’s tongue lapped behind Sam’s knee, making him shake, his cock blurting out great drops of pre-come. Dean eyed it hungrily, but kept teasing Sam with his mouth. Finally, he worked his way back up. Sam panted, holding Dean’s head, chanting “Please, please, please…”
Dean leaned over Sam and silenced him with a kiss. “Not done with you yet.” His white teeth flashing. “Not even close.”
He moved down again, pressed Sam’s thighs back, stretching him open. “So, where did you make yourself nice and clean for me again, Sammy?”
“There.” Sam reached down and pulled his thighs wider apart.
“Say it.”
“My… my hole.”
Dean swore, biting Sam’s inner thigh gently. “Good boy.”
Sam looked at Dean, his eyelids heavy, sultry. “I want you to do it so bad, Dean.”
Dean moved down, sat up on his haunches, and lifted Sam’s hips high into the air. He licked a broad stripe up the center and made a soft sound of pleasure.
The feel of Dean’s tongue punched a cry out of Sam.
Dean kissed around Sam’s hole, nipping lightly at the skin.
“More. Please, God, Dean, more.”
Dean gave him more. He was exquisitely careful not to press his chin against Sam, protecting his cut, but he still managed to eat Sam out, his clever tongue and mouth making Sam shiver and squeak and groan. “You like this so fucking much, don’t you, Sammy?”
Sam breathed, “Yeah.”
“Good. Because I love doing it to you.” Dean licked Sam’s hole, making it soften and open, working his tongue inside, tasting only clean skin and the faint acrid taste of soap. “Nice and clean for me, baby boy. You did a good job.”
Sam shivered with the praise, with the feel of Dean’s tongue lapping at him, in an act so purely drive by love and desire to give pleasure, to take pleasure in loving every part of Sam no matter how base or seemingly taboo. He shook and moaned and chanted Dean’s name, feeling the warmth and light building in him.
Finally Dean let Sam’s hips down. “God, so wet for me, Sam.” Dean stared in awe at the puddle of pre-come on Sam’s abdomen, and bent over him to lick it up. Sam’s stomach fluttered, and he gripped Dean’s shoulders.
Dean licked a broad stroke up Sam’s cock, from the base to the head, then moved up to kiss Sam, making Sam lick the taste of himself off Dean’s tongue.
Sam writhed beneath him. “Oh god, please, please, Dean. Please put your mouth on my cock.”
Dean’s grin was wicked. “All you had to do was ask.” But instead of moving down like before, he shifted, pivoting around.
“Oh god,” Sam breathed when he realized what Dean was doing.
Dean positioned himself over Sam, spreading his legs wide. Sam gripped his thighs and shifted down, so Dean was at the right angle. Lifting his head, he took Dean’s cock, beautiful, thick and fully erect again, into his eager mouth.
Dean parted his lips, carefully taking Sam into his mouth just an inch. He sucked on the head, pulling off silently. A bit of discomfort, but no sharp pain. He put his mouth on Sam’s cock again, taking in a bit more this time.
Sam kept his lower body absolutely still, letting Dean set the depth and pace completely. Still, he shivered involuntarily when Dean got three inches into his mouth. Moaning around Dean’s cock, he translated all the motion he wanted desperately to put into writhing and fucking up into Dean’s mouth into lavishing Dean’s cock with attention. He stroked the back of Dean’s thighs, bobbing his head, sucking him slow and sensual, keeping his mouth so soft, so wet.
Dean moaned again, his mouth vibrating on Sam’s cock. He pulled off long enough to say, “So good at that. So good…” resting his right cheek on Sam’s thigh, and back to gently sucking on Sam’s cock. He had to be slow and careful not to make his jaw or lips hurt, and the movement did make the cut on his chin throb, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care a bit. He had his Sammy in his mouth again, teasing out the taste of Sam, working the tip of his tongue in the slit and making Sam whimper. Bobby knew, knew everything about them, and had held them in his arms and told them it was ok. He had Sam in his mouth again, that velvet flesh stretched over carved marble, pearling drops of nectar in his mouth. God was in his heaven, raining down His approval on Sam and Dean. All was right in his world.
~
Dean and Sam remained locked in a sixty-nine for a long time, until Sam had to drop his head to the carpet, neck muscles exhausted from holding his head up.
Dean rolled them over, so Sam was on top. Sam fell on Dean’s cock with new fire, hands kneading Dean’s thighs, sucking harder and faster. He brought his hands down to cup Dean’s balls, warm and heavy. Dean cried out.
“God, Dean, so fucking hot…” Sam swirled his tongue around the head of Dean’s cock, thighs twitching, right on the edge. “Can I…can I come in your mouth?”
Dean groaned, shivering, nodding with Sam’s cock still in his mouth. He grabbed onto Sam’s firm ass, working his mouth on Sam, his thighs shaking.
Dean put Sam above himself in all ways, to the point that he didn’t pull his mouth off Sam’s cock when his own orgasm hit, to lose himself in the moment purely. He kept sucking, kept his tongue soft and wide, bringing Sam to his orgasm too, even as his hips stuttered and his vision whited out and he came, came inside Sammy’s mouth for the second time in an hour.
Sam put Dean above himself in all ways, to the point that he didn’t fuck deeper into Dean’s mouth, didn’t pump his hips at all, so careful of not wanting to hurt Dean that even as he lost it for Dean, lost it hard and wet and messy, he held himself off Dean and let Dean move his mouth on him, even as his stomach fluttered and stars exploded behind his eyes and that light, that living light and heat, rose within him as he came for Dean, that light so bright and pure that it drove out any trace of darkness.
Author:
justinedelargeFandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest,
Word Count: 3300
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters and my plot.
Summary: Sam and Dean reconnect privately after the intense revelations of the talk with Bobby.
Master post of all chapters here
Sam and Dean and Reggie and Bobby sat in the living room, drinking tea (with everyone’s second cups laced with whiskey). Conversation was kept light. Bobby still had a lot to talk about, particularly the Boy King business, but after what had just transpired, everyone needed to release tension and recharge their batteries.
Dean put his arm around Sam. Out of habit, he looked at Bobby warily.
“Doesn’t bother me any.” Bobby settled back in his recliner. “Now, I don’t wanna see nothin’. If you catch my drift. But holding hands and kissing and stuff like that? Don’t even worry about it.”
Sam blinked fast, shoulders rising and falling with a deep sigh.
Bobby put on a stern expression. “No tongue, though, alright?”
Dean shook his head like a dog shaking off water. “Yeah, no.”
Sam’s eyelids were getting heavy. He sat up straight and drank more tea, but he was clearly fatigued, shaking his head to keep himself alert. Bobby watched Sam, remembering all the times Sam had fought to stay awake to keep listening to the grownups’ conversation, his head flopping forward as he nodded off and jerking it back up, his little eyebrows furrowed with determination to stay up, but invariably his head falling forward again until Bobby or John picked him up and carried him, arms and legs dangling, to bed.
Bobby made a big show of yawning. “I’m wiped out. Those pain meds she gave me are something else.”
Dean nodded vigorously. “No joke.”
“I know we still got a lot to talk about, but you mind if we picked it up later? I need some shut-eye.”
“Sure.” Sam looked grateful. Dean got up and bent over the recliner to give Bobby a long hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. He thumped Bobby’s shoulder.
“Nothing to thank me for.”
It was Sam’s turn. He kneeled down on the right side of the recliner, so he wouldn’t bump Bobby’s left knee, leaned in and nestled in his arms. Dean couldn’t tell who needed that hug more: Sam or Bobby.
Sam also whispered something, something that made Bobby’s chest heave and his body jerk with silent sobs.
Finally, Bobby let go of Sam, and wiped his hand over his eyes and face. The haunted, guilty look in his eyes was no longer there. It was the face of a man who had been forgiven.
~
Sam took Dean’s hand, and with a nod to Reggie, led him out the door.
Once inside, Dean washed his hands and put more ointment on his stitches, popped open the bottle of Advil and spilled three tablets into the palm of his hand.
“It hurts?”
“Not really.” Dean worked his jaw, testing, fingers pressed to the hinges. “This is prophylactic.” The smile that spread across his face left no doubt in Sam’s mind as to what Dean had in mind, and why he thought taking pain medication ahead of time was a wise precaution.
Sam bit his lower lip. “I love it when you talk smart.”
Dean swallowed the pills with some water. “I thought you liked it when I talked dirty.”
“That too.” Sam reached up his hand and ghosted his fingertips over Dean’s lips. “What do you want?”
Dean caught his breath at the bold innocence of Sam’s words.
“Wanna put my mouth on you.” His eyes traced the line of Sam’s body, all the way down and back up. “Wanna put my mouth all over you.”
Sam made a little sound in his throat. He kissed Dean softly. “Be right back.” He disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the tap running gurgled faintly through the door. When he emerged and saw the look on Dean’s face, avid and hungry, he blushed.
“What’d you do in there, Sammy?”
Sam blushed harder. “You—you said you wanted to put your mouth all over me.”
Dean smirked. He loved this part, when Sam was still shy and sweet, before the inhibitions dissolved under the force of Dean’s love and desire for him. “Yeah? So what did you do?”
Sam tilted his head as if to say, You know. Don’t make me say it.
“Did you get yourself clean for me, Sammy? So I could put my mouth on you?” He stepped close, ran his hands down Sam’s back, and rested his hands lightly on his hips.
Sam swallowed hard and nodded.
Dean eyed him, enjoying the color on his cheeks so very much, the little blush and stammer that only he brought out. He looked at Sam’s mouth and back up at his pretty hazel eyes. “Where?”
“Down there. You know. Everywhere.”
Dean moved his thumbs in little circles on Sam’s hipbones. “Sam.” His voice was fireplace embers and 25 year old Scotch. “Where exactly?” He knew before too long Sam would be begging him to fuck him, writhing and moaning and holding himself open. But now. Right now, he rode that edge. That sweet shyness about to give way to abandon, when simply naming body parts made Sam shiver and turn red…oh, Dean loved this part.
Sam moved in closer, too shy to say it while Dean was looking at his face, murmured into Dean’s neck, “My, uh, my ass.”
Dean practically purred. He smoothed Sam’s hair back. “That’s where you want me to put my mouth?”
“God. Everywhere. But yeah.”
“You miss that, sweetheart?”
Sam swallowed, muscles of his throat working.
“Miss me tasting you there?’
Sam exhaled audibly. Dean moved his hands down over the curve of Sam’s ass, slipping his index finger between Sam’s cheeks. “Miss me licking you open?”
Sam was painfully hard already, hips bucking forward slightly as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Dean brought his other hand between them, brushed his palm against Sam’s cock. “Or maybe you want my mouth here.”
“Guh,” Sam answered.
Dean pressed harder with his index finger, massaging Sam’s center. “Or here. What do you want, Sammy?”
Sam moved in Dean’s arms, looked into his eyes. “Everything,” he breathed.
“Greedy little Sammy,” Dean chuckled. He gripped Sam’s cock harder, making him gasp, and circled his finger with more pressure. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna give you everything.”
Sam’s breath came faster. “I want it.” Already, that shyness was giving way. “I want you.”
“I can tell.” Dean’s voice was soft and low.
Sam moved his hips forward, pressing into Dean’s hand, and then back, arching against his finger. “Dean…” His voice thrummed with need.
Dean eyed Sam’s mouth, that perfect pink bow, just the right warmth and shape and texture, just perfect for him. “Gonna put my mouth all over you, baby boy. But first…” He eyed Sam’s mouth. “First…” He closed the distance between them, brought his lips to Sam’s.
Being careful not to press his stitches against Sam’s face, he kissed Sam with all the nuance and skill he had in him. Dean Winchester could make (had made) girls go shivery, weak-kneed, literally unable to stand just from kissing them. But all those kisses were nothing like how he kissed his Sammy. He opened Sam up, claiming every bit of that soft, smooth flesh, teasing the seam, making his lips open to Dean, insinuating his tongue where only he got to explore. He tasted every part of Sam’s mouth, sliding his tongue along the inside of Sam’s lower lip, making him shiver, licking lightly at the corners of Sam’s mouth just to remind him who he belonged to, twining along Sam’s tongue, coaxing it out, sucking on it gently until Sam shivered and moaned, then pushing his tongue into Sam’s mouth, urging Sam to do the same to him. He moaned with pleasure, letting Sam know he was doing it right, doing it so right. “God I’ve missed this,” he whispered. He brought his hands to the side of Sam’s face, thumbs stroking his jaw line, fingers massaging his scalp, and kissed Sam like he wanted to make him come just from that, nipping on his lower lip, tongue exploring more insistently, back curving as he pushed into Sam.
Sam quivered, all parts of him softening and yielding but one. He moaned into Dean’s mouth and Dean knew, he just knew he could make Sam come just from kissing him if he had the patience.
But he had so much he couldn’t wait to do.
“Where?” He pressed his forehead against Sam’s.
“Where what?” Sam shivered, a full-body tremor that started at his neck and rattled its way to his toes.
“Bed? Couch? Kitchen counter? Up against the door? Right here on the carpet?”
The muscles in Sam’s jaw fluttered. Dean smiled. “Carpet it is.”
He pulled his shirt off, slowly, enjoying how Sam’s eyes widened at the sight of him. He let his hands rest on his belt buckle. Sam licked his lips, involuntarily. Dean chuckled. “You wanna put your mouth on me too, Sam?”
Sam sank to his knees on the carpet.
Dean ran his hand through Sam’s hair. “I want to do things to you first.”
“Just let me taste.” Sam looked up at Dean like he was in church and Dean was a religious icon.
Dean undid his buckle, and let his pants drop to his ankles. Sam pulled down the edge of his boxer-briefs, worrying the tip of his tongue into the slit of Dean’s cock, drawing out the sweet, clear fluid.
Dean groaned. Sam suckled harder, trying to get more pre-come out of him. Dean’s hips bucked, a sharp shock of pleasure reverberating through him. “Hey. Hey. You first.”
“Dean.” Sam knelt before Dean, cheeks flushed rosy, head tipped upward. He held Dean’s cock in both hands, palms pressed to either side, fingers pointing up like his hands were folded in prayer. “Please.”
Dean placed two fingers under Sam’s chin, tipped his face up, and said, “How fast can you make me come, Sammy?”
Sam took Dean into his mouth, silken heat and wetness, and showed him how fast. He moaned at the taste of Dean flooding over his tongue (this is my blood, thought Sam), accepting all of it, wasting not even a single drop.
“Fuck, Sam…” Dean stroked Sam’s head.
“Took the edge off. Now you can take all the time you want.”
Dean’s mouth twitched. “Careful what you ask for, baby boy.” He eyed Sam with mischief in his eyes. “’Cause now I’m gonna tease it out twice as long.”
Sam rested his cheek on the sweat-damp skin of Dean’s lower abdomen, right where his initials were. “Good.”
Dean pulled Sam to his feet, and stripped his shirt off. “You’re in for it now.” They stripped off the rest of their clothes, tossing them to the side. “On your back,” Dean commanded.
Sam complied, stretching himself out for Dean, a smile on his face Dean had never seen before. There was a quiet confidence in it, something close to relief.
Dean knelt over Sam, brushed his mouth over Sam’s. “Yeah, gonna take my time with you.” His mouth moved to Sam’s neck, tip of his tongue teasing Sam’s ear. “But I’m not gonna let you come so fast.” Down to the hollow of Sam’s neck.
Sam arched his back. “Do it.”
“Bossy little bottom, aren’t you.”
“I’m not a bottom.”
Dean blinked. It was true. They switched, equals in all things. “You are tonight.” He ran his hands down Sam’s flanks and squeezed his ass.
Sam exhaled through his nose, a snort, color high in his cheeks. “Stop talking and put your mouth on me, Dean.”
Dean trailed his mouth down Sam’s chest to his right nipple. He licked at it, swirling his tongue around it, then blew across it. The flesh hardened, Sam arching his back into it. Dean did it again, using his teeth just a bit, getting the erect nipple nice and wet, then blowing across it again.
Sam clenched his hands into fists as Dean slowly worked his way across to the other nipple, brushing his lips over it, coaxing it erect, teasing it with his mouth and tongue until Sam was panting.
Dean moved up to Sam’s mouth again, kissing him slowly, tasting himself. They both moaned.
Dean worked his way down Sam’s chest again, slowly mouthing at the skin of Sam’s stomach, moving over to lavish the side of his ribcage with attention, the indentation of his hip, down to his lower abdomen. Sam spread his thighs, urging Dean on wordlessly. Dean moved his mouth lower, lower still, and moved to the right side, licking and mouthing at the flesh of his inner thigh, completely bypassing his cock.
Sam swore and bit his lip. Dean licked and kissed all the way down Sam’s inner thigh, down his calf, back up the front and side, covering every inch. He moved to Sam’s abdomen, tracing his initials with his tongue.
Sam gasped, arched his back, spread his thighs wide, begging Dean with his whole body.
Dean moved across and began working his way down Sam’s other leg, pressing his inner thigh wide open, licking at the seam between his thigh and his cock, but steadfastly not touching his cock.
“Dean, god. Please.”
“Good start.” Dean grinned. “Not enough, though.” He licked down Sam’s inner thigh. Sam’s head fell back with a whimper.
The sounds continued. Breathy moans, gasps as Dean’s tongue lapped behind Sam’s knee, making him shake, his cock blurting out great drops of pre-come. Dean eyed it hungrily, but kept teasing Sam with his mouth. Finally, he worked his way back up. Sam panted, holding Dean’s head, chanting “Please, please, please…”
Dean leaned over Sam and silenced him with a kiss. “Not done with you yet.” His white teeth flashing. “Not even close.”
He moved down again, pressed Sam’s thighs back, stretching him open. “So, where did you make yourself nice and clean for me again, Sammy?”
“There.” Sam reached down and pulled his thighs wider apart.
“Say it.”
“My… my hole.”
Dean swore, biting Sam’s inner thigh gently. “Good boy.”
Sam looked at Dean, his eyelids heavy, sultry. “I want you to do it so bad, Dean.”
Dean moved down, sat up on his haunches, and lifted Sam’s hips high into the air. He licked a broad stripe up the center and made a soft sound of pleasure.
The feel of Dean’s tongue punched a cry out of Sam.
Dean kissed around Sam’s hole, nipping lightly at the skin.
“More. Please, God, Dean, more.”
Dean gave him more. He was exquisitely careful not to press his chin against Sam, protecting his cut, but he still managed to eat Sam out, his clever tongue and mouth making Sam shiver and squeak and groan. “You like this so fucking much, don’t you, Sammy?”
Sam breathed, “Yeah.”
“Good. Because I love doing it to you.” Dean licked Sam’s hole, making it soften and open, working his tongue inside, tasting only clean skin and the faint acrid taste of soap. “Nice and clean for me, baby boy. You did a good job.”
Sam shivered with the praise, with the feel of Dean’s tongue lapping at him, in an act so purely drive by love and desire to give pleasure, to take pleasure in loving every part of Sam no matter how base or seemingly taboo. He shook and moaned and chanted Dean’s name, feeling the warmth and light building in him.
Finally Dean let Sam’s hips down. “God, so wet for me, Sam.” Dean stared in awe at the puddle of pre-come on Sam’s abdomen, and bent over him to lick it up. Sam’s stomach fluttered, and he gripped Dean’s shoulders.
Dean licked a broad stroke up Sam’s cock, from the base to the head, then moved up to kiss Sam, making Sam lick the taste of himself off Dean’s tongue.
Sam writhed beneath him. “Oh god, please, please, Dean. Please put your mouth on my cock.”
Dean’s grin was wicked. “All you had to do was ask.” But instead of moving down like before, he shifted, pivoting around.
“Oh god,” Sam breathed when he realized what Dean was doing.
Dean positioned himself over Sam, spreading his legs wide. Sam gripped his thighs and shifted down, so Dean was at the right angle. Lifting his head, he took Dean’s cock, beautiful, thick and fully erect again, into his eager mouth.
Dean parted his lips, carefully taking Sam into his mouth just an inch. He sucked on the head, pulling off silently. A bit of discomfort, but no sharp pain. He put his mouth on Sam’s cock again, taking in a bit more this time.
Sam kept his lower body absolutely still, letting Dean set the depth and pace completely. Still, he shivered involuntarily when Dean got three inches into his mouth. Moaning around Dean’s cock, he translated all the motion he wanted desperately to put into writhing and fucking up into Dean’s mouth into lavishing Dean’s cock with attention. He stroked the back of Dean’s thighs, bobbing his head, sucking him slow and sensual, keeping his mouth so soft, so wet.
Dean moaned again, his mouth vibrating on Sam’s cock. He pulled off long enough to say, “So good at that. So good…” resting his right cheek on Sam’s thigh, and back to gently sucking on Sam’s cock. He had to be slow and careful not to make his jaw or lips hurt, and the movement did make the cut on his chin throb, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care a bit. He had his Sammy in his mouth again, teasing out the taste of Sam, working the tip of his tongue in the slit and making Sam whimper. Bobby knew, knew everything about them, and had held them in his arms and told them it was ok. He had Sam in his mouth again, that velvet flesh stretched over carved marble, pearling drops of nectar in his mouth. God was in his heaven, raining down His approval on Sam and Dean. All was right in his world.
~
Dean and Sam remained locked in a sixty-nine for a long time, until Sam had to drop his head to the carpet, neck muscles exhausted from holding his head up.
Dean rolled them over, so Sam was on top. Sam fell on Dean’s cock with new fire, hands kneading Dean’s thighs, sucking harder and faster. He brought his hands down to cup Dean’s balls, warm and heavy. Dean cried out.
“God, Dean, so fucking hot…” Sam swirled his tongue around the head of Dean’s cock, thighs twitching, right on the edge. “Can I…can I come in your mouth?”
Dean groaned, shivering, nodding with Sam’s cock still in his mouth. He grabbed onto Sam’s firm ass, working his mouth on Sam, his thighs shaking.
Dean put Sam above himself in all ways, to the point that he didn’t pull his mouth off Sam’s cock when his own orgasm hit, to lose himself in the moment purely. He kept sucking, kept his tongue soft and wide, bringing Sam to his orgasm too, even as his hips stuttered and his vision whited out and he came, came inside Sammy’s mouth for the second time in an hour.
Sam put Dean above himself in all ways, to the point that he didn’t fuck deeper into Dean’s mouth, didn’t pump his hips at all, so careful of not wanting to hurt Dean that even as he lost it for Dean, lost it hard and wet and messy, he held himself off Dean and let Dean move his mouth on him, even as his stomach fluttered and stars exploded behind his eyes and that light, that living light and heat, rose within him as he came for Dean, that light so bright and pure that it drove out any trace of darkness.
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Date: 2013-08-08 07:54 pm (UTC)