Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 71: I Want Candy

[justinedelarge]

Title: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 71: I Want Candy
Author: justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest, fantasy anal play
Word Count: 4236
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: John checks in. Sam enjoys his newfound confidence, as does Dean.
Master post of all chapters here

Juliane picked up the phone at the front desk. "Hey. Got a new arrival. Let everyone know?" A beat. "Thanks." She looked behind John towards the front of the motel. Gus and the maintenance worker demon faced the motel office's door, boot tips nearly touching the salt speed bump, eyes gone black. "Let's get you back." Faint lines showed at the corners of her eyes and mouth, revealing the tension her calm voice tried to hide.

Once she got him back into the protected hallway, she relaxed a little. "Are you hurt?"

John shook his head no.

"Good." Juliane's smile was warm."Ok. We don't ask questions and we protect your privacy, even from other hunters. If anyone comes around asking any questions, we don't know anything. And if you want to put yourself on privacy lockdown, you can. No one will see you, or know you're here." She led John down the protected hallway, walking slower from familiarity with people's first reactions to it. John whistled, and stopped walking. He traced an unfamiliar glyph with his fingertips

"Sumerian." Juliane brushed her hair over her shoulder. "Ok, so, lockdown. This is important." John tore his eyes away from the wall, and focused on her. "If anyone here chooses lockdown, you can't leave your apartment without calling us first, so we can let the others know someone's coming out." She smiled when she spoke, but her voice was firm. "Do you agree to abide by this?"

"Yes." John shifted his duffel bag onto his other shoulder.

"There are other hunters in the Sanctuary right now, and they all requested privacy lockdown. So that means no one moves around outside their room without letting us clear the hall and the common room. Just hit 11 on the phone in your room, and it'll ring us."

"Got it."

She brought John into the common room. He stood and stared, turning in a slow circle, taking it all in.

"Wow."

Juliane beamed with pride.

Danny walked up and stuck out his hand. "Danny."

John hesitated for a split-second. "Charles." He shook Danny's hand.

Danny showed John the lore library and the movie collection. "Research or distraction. Whatever you need." He handed a mug of tea to John, and another one to Juliane.

"Did you get ahold of everyone?" Juliane wrapped both hands around the tea mug.

"No. Let me call again." Danny went to the phone and dialed Sam and Dean's room again. John sat down on the couch and sipped his tea, watchful eyes taking in every detail of the room.

---

The phone rang again. Sam still had shampoo in his hair. Dean finished rinsing. "I'll get it." He jumped out of the shower, tracking water everywhere, and padded naked to the living room, toweling his hair. "Hey."

"Hey. We've got a new guest, so hang tight until we've got him set up in his quarters."

"Got it. We'll stay put. Thanks."

Dean hung up the phone and returned to the bathroom. Sam was just getting out, toweling himself off.

Dean's cock twitched at the sight.

"Who was that?"

"Danny. He says new meat just checked in."

"Ah. Ok." Sam eyed Dean's swelling cock. "So…lunch, right?"

Dean smacked his lips. "Starving."

Sam walked past him, smacking his bare ass as he passed. "Alright then."

Dean swelled and thickened a little more, and shook his head at the glorious sight of Sam walking naked down the hall to the bedroom to get dressed. "Damn I'm lucky," he said to himself.

"Yeah you are," Sam called from the bedroom.

"Talking to myself," Dean rejoined.

"Talk softer then," Sam retorted.

Dean toweled off, put ointment on his chin laceration, and brushed his teeth, careful still even though his mouth and jaw felt better. Sam walked past him, eyeing him like it was hard to tear his eyes from him, turning and walking backwards, still looking at him.

"Take a picture, Sammy." Dean spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed.

"Any film left?" Sam grinned cockily.

"God I love you."

Sam stopped in his tracks, his eyes traveling over Dean's body like he was trying to memorize it.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Dean set the toothbrush into the ceramic holder with a dull clink, and stepped into the doorway, so Sam could have a better view.

Sam chewed on his lower lip and released it. "I want to fuck you." His tone of voice was vibrant with a newfound confidence.

It made Dean shiver.

"Will you let me?" Sam's gaze traveled up Dean's body to meet his green eyes directly. "Fuck you?"

Dean swallowed. "You can do anything you want with me, Sammy."

Sam closed his eyes, bracing himself against the wall. "Jesus. Dean."

"Um, give me a minute, ok?" Dean's cheeks flushed pink, knowing that Sam knew what Dean was excusing himself to do.

The look that passed between them was electric. New. Something in Sam's face betrayed that he was picturing Dean getting himself clean for Sam, clean like that, and that to his absolute shock, he found something deeply erotic in the thought.

To Dean's surprise, so did he.

Suddenly Dean was seized with the image of Sam taking care of him, just getting him started, of him bending over the sink, spreading his thighs wide as Sam put one hand on the small of his back and inserted the slippery nozzle with the other hand, feeling the rush of warm water penetrating him, that Sam was putting inside him... His cock jerked hard, slapping against his belly.

Sam swallowed. "Dean?" He blew out a little puff of breath. They were on new ground here.

Dean turned bright red. "I got it, Sammy." He turned to go back in the bathroom.

"You sure?" Sam's voice dropped down half an octave. It made the nerves in Dean's skin sing.

He rested his hand on the door jamb. "Yeah." He paused. Then (Anything you and I do together is good, ok? You know why? Because we love each other so fucking much it makes it ok. No matter how out there or kinky it is.) he said, in a hushed voice, "This time."

Sam made another sound, of surprise and need. Dean closed the door gently. His face was still beet red as he gathered up the equipment, filling the bulb with warm water, lubing the nozzle. He braced himself on the sink and slipped the tip inside.

Imagining it was Sam doing it.

He bit back a groan.

Slowly, he squeezed the black bulb, feeling the thin stream of water rush inside him. So slowly, so as not to cramp.

Imagined Sam stroking his back, telling him what a good job he was doing.

A drop of precome spilled from the head of his cock and splashed on the tile floor.

He took the entire bulb, held the water in as he refilled it, and inserted it again.

Sam, squeezing the bulb. Dean. Can you take a little more for me? Yeah, Sammy. Jesus.

Dean shook his head, wondering what the hell was wrong with him, and then tried to shut that thought down as fast as it appeared in his head. Whatever kink gets you going, I'll do it. No judgment. He knew that applied both ways. And he damn well didn't want anyone in the same room when he let all the water go. But the thought of Sam giving it to him, making him take it, filling him up like that… He gripped the base of his cock, squeezing the orgasm back.

He finally regained control, and set the nozzle and bulb in the sink, holding the water inside him, when he heard Sam's voice, so quiet it was almost a whisper, at the door.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can…is it… can you open the door? Just for a second?"

No judgment. "Yeah."

He opened the door. Sam's cheeks were stained red, like he'd been running. His eyes looked almost feverish. He stared at Dean, eyes darting between his cock and his stomach, faintly distended.

He bit his lip. "Fuck, Dean, are you…"

Dean nodded, a quick little movement.

Sam stepped inside and put his right palm against the curve of Dean's round little belly. "Oh god. Oh my god." Sam's breath came in little snorts.

Dean's cock twitched again. Sam put his other hand on Dean's stomach, stroking it lightly, feeling its fullness. "Jesus."

"I know." Dean trembled, the pleasure and intimacy and trust of it almost too much, triggering a deep emotional response that brought tears to his eyes.

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief that this was having this effect on him. On both of them.

"I know." Dean put his arms around Sam's neck. "It's ok."

"Whatever we do is ok," Sam whispered.

"Yeah." Dean shivered as Sam moved closer, slipped his hands around to grip his ass, his erection painfully hard against Dean's bare thigh.

"Next time…" Sam licked his lips, unsure about the next words. Unsure if he could say them.

"Anything, Sammy." Dean's words made Sam relax, visibly softening and curling into him.

"Let me." Sam breathed the words into Dean's neck, fingers stroking the soft skin along the underside of Dean's ass. "Let me do it." His voice, his fingers, achingly tender.

Dean shivered, his body's response all the answer Sam needed. But he said it anyway, face hot. "Ok."

Sam swore, moved to the side, caressed Dean's swollen belly at the same time as he smoothed his hand over Dean's ass.

"So fucking hot. Dean. I can't—"

"It's ok," Dean repeated, both for his benefit as well as Sam's. "It's ok."

Sam brought his other hand around and slid it up underneath Dean's cock, still caressing Dean's stomach. Dean groaned.

"Hold it in." His fingers circling his lower abdomen, feeling the water swelling inside, pushing his belly out. "Keep holding it." Sam began fisting Dean's cock slowly.

Dean's eyes went wide at what Sam was doing to him. Sam scrutinized his face, saw nothing but love and approval and pleasure and astonishment there. He smiled, bright and wicked. "You like this."

"Fuck. Yeah. I—"

Sam pressed his palm lightly against Dean's abdomen. "Feels good. Being full like this." His voice dropped that half-octave again. "I know." His hand working Dean's cock. "I, uh, thought about it. You." He swallowed. "Filling me up like this. Making me take it for you."

Dean pulled back, brow furrowed with the effort it took to stay in control, at the images Sam was putting in his head, of what Sam was doing to him. "Sam, I'm gonna, you're gonna make me come, I can't—" He pushed Sam back towards the door. "Come on, Sam…"

Sam nodded, understanding. He backed out of the bathroom and shut the door, giving Dean his privacy. No judgment, anything goes, but there were still things both of them preferred to do in private.

When Dean heard the sounds of Sam opening cabinet doors in the kitchen, he sat down and released the water in a great rush. The pleasure of it was overwhelming, his entire body shocky and shivery, so much so that he thought he'd actually come from it, but was surprised to see that he had not.

When he was completely ready for Sam, he stepped outside and went to him.

Sam was in the living room on the couch. On the coffee table, he'd spread out an array of candy. He'd removed his clothing, folded neatly in a stack on the floor. He was sucking on a round red lollipop, and on the base of his cock, jutting up proudly, he'd twined a candy necklace like a cock ring.

Dean looked at Sam like it was Christmas morning, reluctantly tearing his eyes away to cast a quick glance at the candy on the table, taking in the bottle of lube Sam had set on the corner. Pixy Stix and chocolate kisses and Pop Rocks. Dean's eyes went up at that one.

"You said you'd show me something with that one."

"Oh yeah," Dean smirked. "But first." He bent over Sam, kissing him, licking the sweet sticky strawberry from his lips. Sam moaned, hips bucking up, as Dean stroked his hand lightly over Sam's cock. Kneeling, he brushed his mouth over the top of Sam's cock, then switched his attention to the candy necklace. "Hang on." He pulled at the elastic gently, undoing a few loops and adjusting them so that they bound Sam's balls, separating them, pushing them up high and tight, the candy necklace criss-crossing between them. "There you go." The sight made his voice rough with need. He settled in between Sam's thighs and licked his balls, lapping at the rings of candy with each stroke of his tongue.

Sam whimpered, cock jumping. Dean pulled at the strand of candy, carefully lifting it away from Sam's delicate flesh, and crunched down, breaking off several candy rings and chewing them. Then he resumed lavishing Sam's balls with attention, making Sam squirm and gasp, loving it but desperate for more sensation. Again, he bit off a few round discs of candy, and this time, he brought them to Sam's mouth, kissing him and slipping them inside. Their tongues twirled together, then Dean pulled back, allowing Sam to chew and swallow them. "So…you want to learn the Pop Rocks trick, huh?" The smirk on his face was wicked.

Sam nodded, putting the lollipop back in his mouth.

"For fuck's sake, Sam, that ought to be criminal." Sam with his pretty mouth stretched around the sphere of candy, licking and sucking at it, was almost too much for Dean to take. And Sam knew it. He played it up, head tilted cockily, putting on a show for Dean.

Dean tore open the packet of Pop Rocks and poured some in his mouth. When Dean sat up and sealed his mouth over Sam's right nipple, Sam dropped the lollipop on the coffee table.

"Oh god, fuck…" Sam cried out, wrapping his arms around Dean's back, gripping him tight. The candy snapped against his sensitive flesh, like tiny little nips and bites. Sam arched his back into it, writhing at the feel of it. Dean held him still and made him take it. Finally, the popping died down. Dean grinned at him. "And that's not even the real trick, baby boy." Sam dropped his head to the couch with a groan. Dean poured more Pop Rocks into his mouth and settled down between Sam's legs.

"Oh god."

Dean just nodded yes.

"Oh god. Dean…" Sam shivered with anticipation. Dean sealed his mouth over Sam's cock, pressing his tongue against the shaft, holding the Pop Rocks against his flesh, being as careful as he could be to not let any of the crackling little rocks near the slit

Sam spasmed, but Dean was prepared (having been on the receiving end of this already, thanks to the infinite kinky generosity of Ronda Hurley) and already had his hands pressed hard on Sam's hips, holding him down. The little crystals popped, tingly and effervescent. Sam, being exquisitely sensitive, gasped at the sensation, stroking Dean's hair.

And again, Dean poured more in his mouth, and took one of Sam's balls in his mouth. "Ah. Ah. Oh god." Sam clutched the couch, biting his lip. Dean slid up, letting the remaining rocks pop as he kissed Sam, slow and deep. Then he reached behind him, unwrapped a chocolate kiss, and held it in his mouth.

Sam leaned forward and kissed him. Their tongues pushed the piece of chocolate around in their mouths until it had melted.

Dean was already on the edge. Wanting to come. His hips bucked forward, rubbing himself against Sam's inner thigh.

Sam pulled him up and sat him down on the couch. He licked Dean's nipples with broad, wet strokes of his tongue, then tore open a Pixy Stix straw and sifted the flavored sugar over them. He brought his mouth to Dean's right nipple and licked the sugar away, moaning as Dean's flesh responded, the nipple hardening under his tongue. He lapped at the sugar on the other nipple.

He licked a long stripe down Dean's chest and stomach, and dusted the Pixy Stix crystals over it, sticking to the dampness. He spent a good long time licking the sugar off, Dean breathless and unable to hold still beneath him. "Sam. Come on."

"You want something?" Sam sat back on his knees, putting the lollipop back in his mouth, swirling his tongue on it and sucking it.

"You know what I want." Dean's eyes were bottle-green, wide and dark, pupils blown.

"Say it. I like it when you say it."

"Put that thing down and put your mouth on my cock." Dean eyed Sam's mouth. "S what you really want."

Sam put the lollipop back down and slowly drove his mouth down the entire length of Dean's cock, looking him in the eyes the entire time.

Dean shivered and swore and praised his Sammy.

Sam pulled back, mouth so warm and wet, and tipped the Pixy Stix over Dean's cock. He sealed his mouth over it again, moaning at the sweet taste of sugar and the feel of Dean's cock, hands squeezing Dean's thighs.

Dean threw his head back and moaned, loudly.

"I like it when you make noise," Sam said.

"Better hope these walls are soundproofed, then." Dean trembled, knowing that when the moment came, when his Sammy made him come for him, come on his cock, that he was not going to be quiet. Not by a long shot.

Sam licked and sucked Dean's cock for a good long time, getting every granule of sugar off, reveling in the electric-shock quivers he was sending through Dean.

He pushed Dean's thighs back, pulling his hips forward, and brought his tongue to Dean's pink little hole. He licked at it, getting it nice and wet.

"Sam… Jesus, Sammy…"

Sam upended the last of the sugar dust over Dean's hole, and settled in to lick it all away. He sealed his mouth over Dean, moaning, going crazy at the feel of it, licking and sucking, getting his tongue inside Dean, softening the tight little ring, making it yield to him, licking him open.

"Gonna fuck me, sweetheart?"

Sam's eyes went wide, staring up at Dean, mouth still sealed over his hole. He groaned, loving it when Dean talked dirty.

"Gonna get inside me? Make me come on your cock? 'S what you want?"

Sam pulled his mouth off, resting his forehead against Dean's inner thigh, panting, palming his cock. "Jesus, Dean."

"C'mon. Get your fingers inside me."

Sam slicked up his fingers, moving Dean so he was on his back, legs spread. He moved his hand between Dean's legs and kissed him as he slipped his index finger inside.

Dean made a soft sound of pleasure. Sam moved his mouth down to Dean's neck, working his finger in and out. "More. I can take it."

Sam brought his middle finger up, worked it past the outer ring, then paused, letting Dean relax, to slip past the tight inner ring. Dean brought his mouth to Sam's ear, whispered, "Got myself nice and clean for you, Sammy."

Sam shivered and claimed Dean's mouth with his. Dean braced his feet on the couch and raised and lowered his hips, fucking himself down on Sam's fingers. "Do it. Not gonna break me. I want it."

Sam groaned helplessly. Dean kept pumping his hips, fucking himself. "Sam. I want it. Want you to fuck me." Sam worked his hand faster, giving it to Dean the way his body made it clear he needed it. Dean groaned as Sam hit the speed and angle he wanted. "Yeah. Yeah." Sam crooked his fingers just right, and Dean groaned again. "Jesus, Sammy, you gotta fuck me now, come on, not gonna last…"

Sam slicked up his cock with shaking fingers, and brought the head of his cock to Dean's entrance. He pushed gently, then moved back. Gently forward, then back. The head pushed against the outer ring, pushed against it, and pushed past it.

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders, sweat-slick and strong. "Do it, Sam, fuck me, come on…" He urged Sam on. Sam pushed forward, past the second ring.

A sheen of sweat erupted on Dean's face. He pushed down, making Sam go deeper. "Sam. God. So fucking good. Do it." Sam slid in deeper, going halfway, back out and in deeper still.

Suddenly Dean turned, flipped Sam around like when they were sparring, and now Sam was seated on the couch with Dean on top of him. Dean rose up until Sam was about to pop free, then sank down, impaling himself. "Baby brother's so fucking big," he whispered.

Sam moaned at that.

"It's ok, Sammy. I know you like it." Dean met Sam's gaze. "Don't you, baby boy?"

Sam shivered, nodding.

"It's ok. Ok to like it. Anything we do, Sammy. It's ok. Yeah?"

Sam nodded, reassured, the little flare of guilt and shame beaten down.

"So fuck your big brother like you mean it."

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, holding him still, and pistoned up into him hard and fast, reaming him, fucking him like his life depended on it. All Dean could do was hold still, hold still and get fucked, hold still while Sam's huge cock stretched him out wide, filled him up so deep. The cries punched out of Dean were loud and long, cries of tremendous satisfaction, of a need that had been building finally being met.

"Jesus Dean. I don't fuck you enough." Sam slapped his right hand against Dean's upper back, pressing him closer.

"Damn right."

"You really love having a cock in your ass, don't you?"

"Yours," Dean gasped. "Yours."

Sam fucked Dean so hard, he slid backward. Sam shoved the coffee table away with his foot hard, pushing it to the side, clearing a wide space on the carpet in front of him. The next thing Dean knew, his shoulders were pressed to the carpet, hips propped up on the edge of the seat cushion, legs back over his head, spread wide. Sam's hands pinned Dean's wrists to the carpet above his head, body horizontal over him, knees and feet on the couch. And Sam was fucking him like he'd never done it before, hips raising in the air and slamming down, fucking him hard and deep, deeper than Dean had ever taken Sam before. All he could do was take it, lay there with Sam's strong hands pinning his to the carpet, lay there with his legs spread, ass tipped up in the air, lay there and take Sam's cock, let Sam fuck him with wet slapping sounds that were positively, blissfully obscene.

Each stroke drove a grunt from Dean, primal, greedy. Sam's chest and face were equally red, Sam reveling in it every bit as much as Dean was.

"You like it too, Dean." Sam whispered. "Taking your baby brother's cock."

"Oh, Jesus, Sammy…" Dean felt it building, felt the roller coaster being hauled upward, up toward the peak, about to go up and over.

"Say it."

"I like it."

Sam paused, holding himself horizontally over Dean. Waiting.

"I love it, Sam, Love my little brother's cock in me. So good. So fucking big."

Sam groaned, and resumed his pace. Dean kept talking, knowing how much Sam loved it now, how addicted he was to it. Someday I'm gonna make you come just from talking dirty, he thought. The rollercoaster car started moving again, bringing him to the edge.

"Oh god, Sam, Sammy, you're gonna make me come."

Sam went to release one of Dean's hands, but he shook his head. "Just on your cock," he whispered. "Just your cock. 'S all I need."

"Jesus," Sammy whispered. His body started to shake.

"Yeah, baby boy. Come on. Come inside me." Sam slammed into Dean, twisting his hips, stroking inside him at just the right angle, sending white sparks erupting behind Dean's eyes. The only words he managed to eke out before language dissolved entirely were, "Sammy. Sam. Sam." The words turned to cries, the roller coaster at the top of the peak tipping over the edge. Dean shook, speared on Sam's long, thick cock, Sam inside him, becoming part of him, and that took his impending orgasm and turned it inside out, turned it into something infinitely deeper and more important than simple pleasure or release.

Sam was in him.

Sam was him.

He was Sam.

Time ceased to be relevant. Dean couldn't tell what was him and what was Sam. The earthy scent of clean sweat and musk, the body on top (penetrating), the body below (enveloping), the sharp cries and guttural moans, none of these could be placed, attributed.

The part of We that was Dean cried out again. The cries built as the pleasure amplified, the intensity doubling, the meaning of it becoming clear and then lost again, too enormous to be understood, like the immensity of space. All Dean could do was throw his head back and scream.

---

Settled into his apartment inside the Sanctuary, John unpacked his duffel. Faintly, from a room down the hall, John heard sounds. Rather unmistakable sounds. He grinned, pulling clean socks from the bottom of the duffel bag. "Someone's having fun."