Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 87: Whole Lotta Love

[justinedelarge]

Title: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 87: Whole Lotta Love
Author: justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest
Word Count:3600
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 is exhausted from the events of the past few days. Dean takes care of him.
Master post of all chapters here

In the car on the drive back, Sam was quiet.

“You ok, Sam?” Dean’s eyes flickered from the road to Sam, taking in his slumped shoulders and the strain on his face.

Sam nodded. “I… it’s just a lot. You know? To deal with.”

Dean nodded, lips pursed. Learning the demon blood had been purged from Sam’s body, because of his love affair with Dean, which an angel told them was approved by God. Sam leaving Dean and heading out on a suicide mission to protect Dean. Killing a Knight of Hell. Sam thinking Dean had died, just for a moment. Finding out they had a brother. Dean’s secret coming out. Dad finding out about them. Dad abandoning them. For his other family.

And now finding out maybe they could cure demons.

“Damn right, that’s a lot.” Dean stroked Sam’s hair. Sam put his hand on Dean’s thigh, shoulders relaxing, like he was drawing strength from just touching him. Dean drove in silence all the way back to the Sanctuary. He turned into the driveway, rolling gently over the salt speed bump.

“Do me a favor?”

“Name it.” Dean didn’t impose conditions.

“Fill everyone in for both of us? I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to explain. Or answer questions. I just want...” Sam fell silent.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.” Dean stroked the back of Sam’s wrist.

Something flickered in Sam’s eyes, something wide awake and hungry. “Don’t take too long.”

“Don’t start without me,” Dean joked—then paused. “Strike that. Go ahead. Start without me.”

Sam blushed.

Inside, he escorted Sam through the common room and ushered him toward their apartment. “Go rest up, Sam. Have a drink. I’ll be right there.”

Dean explained everything to the four of them. They had a lot of questions, and Dean got back to the apartment later than he’d expected. The air inside was moist from shower steam.

“Sam?”

The bottle of bourbon was on the coffee table, with the cap off.  The level was an inch lower than Dean remembered it.

He grinned and took a generous swig, and bringing the bottle with him, he sauntered down the hall to their bedroom. “You ready for me, baby—” Dean stopped dead at the sight that greeted him, skin getting hot all over like he’d been plunged into a warm bath.

Sam was naked. That, he half-expected.

He did not expect to see Sam on his knees, bracing himself on his right forearm, fingers of his left hand buried deep in his ass, his hard cock and heavy balls bobbing between his spread thighs.

Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean, eyes going heavy and lidded at the sight of him, dumbstruck in the doorway. He fucked himself on his fingers even deeper, mouth falling open, hair tumbling into his face, cheeks stained pink, eyes locked on Dean.

“Jesus, Sammy…”

Sam’s face flushed redder, taking in the effect of what he was doing on Dean.

Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sam. “Keep going.” His voice was a low rumble.

Sam whimpered, dropping down onto his shoulder so he could use both hands, head turned so he could watch Dean watch him. He tugged on his balls with his right hand as he fucked himself on two of his fingers, pushing back into it.

Dean took a drink of bourbon, letting the liquid linger on his tongue, all vanilla and charred oak and heat. Watching Sam, green eyes gone emerald, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. Sam rolled his hips in a circle, moaning, sliding his fingers in and out. He slipped his right hand down, tugged on his cock with a groan. “You were gone so long,” he whispered. “I started without you.”

“Yeah you did.” Dean took another sip of bourbon and exhaled, getting drunk on what he was seeing as much as what he was putting in his mouth.

Sam brought a third finger up, slipped it inside next to the other two, groaning as it slid home.

“Fuck, Sammy.”

“You like that?” Sam bit his lower lip. “Watching me like this?”

“You have no fucking idea.”

Sam spread his thighs wider, lowering himself so he could rub his cock on the bed as he fingered himself. “Ah... god…” He put on a proper show for Dean, biting his lower lip, arching and curling his back, showing Dean how good it felt.

Dean palmed his cock through his jeans. “You getting ready for me, Sam?”

“Not yet,” Sam whispered. “Want you to watch me.”

Dean stepped back and leaned against the wall. “Yeah. Ok.”

Sam worked three fingers inside his ass, rutting against the mattress, making little moans and cries. Dean’s cheeks were flushed pink, his erection plainly visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Sam’s face creased with a positively wicked grin. He got up, taking the bottle of lube with him and went to Dean. He lifted the bottle of bourbon to his mouth and took another drink.

Dean seized his left hand and brought his fingers to his mouth.

Sam’s eyelids fluttered shut as Dean sucked on them. “Dirty boy,” he whispered, words ever so slightly slurred.

“You know it.” Dean suckled on Sam’s fingers that had just been inside him.

“Come on, dirty boy.” Sam laced his fingers in Dean’s and led him back out to the living room. He pushed him down onto the couch, gently. He took another drink of bourbon, holding it in his mouth, then leaned in and kissed Dean, letting it drip into Dean’s mouth.

Dean shivered, swallowed it down, licked the taste from Sam’s mouth.

Sam turned on the stereo and put on one of Dean’s cassette tapes. The familiar guitar riff of Whole Lotta Love issued from the speakers.

You need cooling, baby I ain’t fooling

honey I’m gonna send you back to schooling

Sam slid his hand down his chest, down his stomach, watching Dean watching him. “I can be dirty too.” Dean’s mouth fell open.

way down inside

honey you need it,

Sam sat down on the heavy wooden coffee table across from Dean, spread his thighs wide, ran his hands over his chest, pinching his nipples. Dean bit his lower lip and spread his own legs wider.

gonna give you my love

gonna give you my love

Sam moved his hands down between his legs and took his cock in his hand, pumping it gently.

Dean swiped his tongue over his lips.

Sam smiled, lay down on the coffee table, letting his head fall over the far edge of the coffee table, back supported by the table, and pulled his knees back, slipping his fingers into his ass again. He spread his legs wider, fucking himself with three fingers, moaning, laid out for Dean.

My my my my… My my my my …

Stroking his cock with his other hand

Ah… oh, shake for me girl… I wanna be your back door man…

Lifting his head up, locking his eyes on Dean, reveling in the desire and awe on his face.

hey… oh…hey… oh… hey… oh… oooooh…

Putting his feet on Dean’s thighs, pressing down as he raised his hips and drove himself down on his fingers, again and again, spread wide for Dean to see

“Thank you, God,” Dean whispered.

Writhing, grinding his hips, fucking himself so slow and deep. The song changed.

And if I should say to you tomorrow

Take my hand child and come with me

It's to a castle I will take you

where what's to be, they say will be

Sam stood up, tugged the coffee table closer, and straddled Dean on the couch, shins pressed onto the soft cushions, facing away from him. Dean hissed as Sam ground his cock against him, arching his back.

“Want to do everything with you.”

“Whatever you want, baby boy. Anything.”

“Put your fingers in my ass.” Sam’s voice was a whisper.

Dean groaned, slathered his fingers with lube and gave Sam what he wanted.

Sam leaned forward, bracing himself on his palms on the coffee table, and gyrated his hips in little circles, grinding against Dean’s denim-covered cock. Dean fucked into him with two fingers.

Sam’s back was sheened with sweat. “Jesus, Dean. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You ready for more?”

Sam sucked in a sharp inhalation of breath. “Please. Please.”

Dean worked a third finger into Sam, groaning as he took him, opening to him beautifully but still so tight.

“Dean. Oh god.”

“S that what you want, sweetheart?”

“Harder.”

The tape kept playing, but they no longer heard anything but each other.

Dean increased the pace, driving his fingers into Sam with more force. Sam cried out, grinding against him.

“You look so fucking hot, Sammy. So fucking hot.”

“Want to see.”

“Ok, baby. I’ll get you a nice big mirror.”

“No,” Sam gasped. “Tape us.” He arched his back, taking Dean’s fingers deeper.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat. “You really meant that?” Sam in the laundry room, asking Dean to buy them a camcorder, tape them fucking, play it back.

Sam’s cock jerked, untouched, a clear thread of precome emerging from the slit. “Yeah,” he gasped. “Fuck me. Make me do things. Record it.”

Dean nearly choked.

“Play it back. Make me watch it. While you fuck me again.”

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean breathed, trying not to come in his pants.

“Promise.” The muscles of Sam’s back and ass bunched and released as he worked himself on Dean, utterly shameless and devoid of inhibitions.

“Baby, I’ll buy you a camcorder,” Dean whispered, bringing a fourth finger up, teasing it around Sam’s rim. “Buy you a big dildo too. Make you take it all for me before I fuck you. Record the whole damn thing.”

“Oh god,” Sam cried out. “Oh god. Dean.”

“You like that idea.” Dean pushed, working the tip of his fourth finger inside Sam. Sam groaned, pushing back, taking the tip of all four fingers.

“Yeah. You fucking like that, alright. Gonna take it all for me, Sammy?”

Sam leaned forward, and tipped his hips, raising his ass up higher, his feet coming up off the couch, rubbing his cock against Dean’s. “Yeah. Do it. Come on. Make me take it.”

Dean grabbed Sam’s left ankle, brought his mouth down on the underside of his foot, licking at it. Sam wailed, panting, waggling his hips in circles, taking Dean’s fingers up to the first knuckle, rutting against Dean’s cock.

“Gonna come for me, Sammy? Come with four of my fingers up your pretty little ass?”

Sam gasped, panted, asked for it. “May I… please, Dean, may I?”

“Such a good boy. Asking so pretty.” Dean stopped moving his hand, keeping his fingers inside Sam. His hole twitched, the rim clenching against his fingers. “Hold still.”

Sam pushed back, trying to take Dean’s fingers deeper, his tight little rim resisting.

“I said hold still. Don’t move.” Dean lapped at the underside of Sam’s bare foot, again and again, making him shiver and shake, his cock leaking slow steady drops of precome, soaking into Dean’s jeans. “Don’t move, baby. Let me do what I wanna do.”

Sam swallowed hard, nodded.

“Don’t come. Don’t you dare come.” Dean pulled out one finger, worked three inside Sam again, going deeper than he could with four. Worked him slowly. So slowly. Sam moaned.

“I like it when you beg me to let you come.”

“Please, Dean. Please.”

Dean nuzzled Sam’s ankle. “So fucking beautiful like this, Sammy. All spread out for me. Begging.”

“Please, Dean. Please let me come. God, please.”

Dean’s mouth twitched. “I wonder how long you could take it.”

Sam dropped his head down with a sob.

Dean stroked his fingers inside Sam, possessing him, sending cascades of pleasure through Sam’s body, through his cock, from the inside.

“You love this. Me keeping you on the edge like this,” Dean whispered. He dug the pads of his fingers in, pressing against the spongy flesh of Sam’s prostate.

Sam jolted, an involuntary movement,

Dean pulled out his four fingers, reinserted only two, so he could massage Sam’s prostate with more finesse. He put his fingers along the outer edge, and rubbed it, slowly, between his fingers. So slowly. Sam gasped and shook and begged.

“How long can you take it, Sammy?”

Fingers stroking, mouth brushing against Sam’s ankle.

“I can feel it. How bad you want to come.”

Tongue moving along the sole of his foot. Jolts running through Sam. Cock leaking steadily, so wet, so hard.

“Lift up, baby boy.”

Sam raised himself up with a groan, no longer able to press himself against Dean’s cock.

“There you go. Hold yourself up. Just take it. Take it for me.”

Dean brought his mouth down over Sam’s toes, marveling yet again at how perfectly formed his feet were.  “It’s not a foot thing. But Jesus, Sam. The way you sound when I do this to you.”  Dean closed his mouth over Sam’s big toe, sank down on it, pulled back with a swirl of his tongue. Sam wailed again, a great pulse of precome dripping from the head of his cock. Dean pressed against his prostate, massaging it gently, making sure Sam kept his hips up so he didn’t get any direct contact on his cock at all. And Dean sucked each perfect toe into his mouth in turn, licking between them, blissing out on the sounds Sam made in response. Soft needy cries and whimpers, gasps and aching moans, slapping the coffee table with his palms, making hungry little growls in the back of his throat. Dean teased and stroked and sucked until Sam’s hair was damp from sweat and he was pleading with real desperation in his voice.

“Dean, please, I can’t, Dean, I can’t fucking take it, please, I’ll do anything you want, just god, please let me come, Dean, please.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, I swear to God, anything.”

Dean grinned. “Alright, baby boy. But you gotta come just like this.” He lowered his mouth again, sucked on Sam’s toes, and worked his prostate harder.

Sam’s moans started low. When Dean worked all five toes into his mouth and sucked on them like it was his cock, his moans turned to rough little grunts punched out of him, getting sharper, a note of surprise laid over them as his orgasm began to crest. Dean paused long enough to say, “Come on, baby boy. Come for me.” He sucked and licked at him, stroking inside him slow and sweet, and suddenly Sam was spasming, head thrown back, crying out sharply, and coming wet and messy, spurting great jets of come onto the coffee table, hitting his own face and jaw, his cries going even sharper as the peak of his pleasure hit, thrashing on Dean’s lap as Dean stabbed his fingers inside him, driving more out of him until Sam was half delirious with pleasure.

When Sam had regained full consciousness, Dean was pulling at him. “Turn around, Sam.” Sam allowed himself to be guided and turned, and lowered onto Dean’s cock. “Come on, baby,” Dean urged. “Make me come.”

Sam rose and fell on Dean’s cock, completely naked. Dean was completely clothed except for his cock pulled free of his unzipped jeans. “Jesus, Sam, just want to keep you like this,” Dean whispered, hands roaming all over Sam’s soft skin, eagerly lapping the taste of Sam off his jaw and cheeks. “Naked for days. Fucking you. Sucking you off. Riding your cock. Making you come for me, over and over. Not letting you get dressed. Just naked and ready and fucking mine.”

Sam’s erection, which had started to soften, stiffened again at Dean’s words. “Do it.”

“I will.” Dean bucked his hips up, fucking into Sam, his own orgasm coiling at the base of his spine, ready to explode outward.

“Promise me, Dean. Swear it.” Sam undulated on Dean’s lap, hands roaming over his clothed body, reveling in it.

Dean swore, his baseline jumping up six notches. “I swear.”

“Starting now. Right now. Don’t—” Sam’s voice cracked. “Don’t let me get dressed again. Tell everyone… I don’t care what you tell them.”

“I’ll say you’re tired. Need to stay in bed.”

Sam rose and fell on Dean faster, riding him harder. “Fucking promise me, Dean.”

“’S that what you want, baby boy?” Dean gripped Sam’s hips, working him down on his cock, thumbs pressing into his hipbones.

Sam leaned forward and took the amulet into his mouth, sucking on the brass, his cock fully erect again. “Mmm-hmm.”

“I promise. Sam. I swear.”

Sam made a sound of satisfaction so deep, it surprised Dean. It wasn’t an orgasm hitting. It was simply Dean giving Sam something he needed desperately.  He watched Sam sway and writhe on his lap, completely alive, sucking on the amulet, completely lost in Dean. Suddenly,  understanding flooded him. “You’re mine. Right, baby boy? All mine.”

Sam clenched his inner muscles, pulling at Dean deliciously as he rose up, so tight on him as he sank down.  He released the amulet from his mouth. “Yours.”

Dean kissed Sam, possessing him with his mouth and tongue, tasting the sharp tang of brass on his tongue. San whimpered into his mouth, opening to him. Dean reached between them, took hold of Sam’s cock, and began working it. “You’re gonna come for me again, Sammy.”

Sam whimpered, shivering.

“Because I said so. Because I like it.” He flicked his thumb in the way Sam loved, gripping his hips with his other hand and fucking up into him. “Come on, sweetheart. Come with me.”

Dean’s hand set up an almost punishing pace, which is exactly what Sam needed. When Dean threw his head back, cords of his neck standing out, and chanted, “Sammy. Sam. Sam,” Sam seized up, pulsing all over Dean’s shirt, crying out, “Dean. Fuck. Dean.” Then he collapsed against Dean, whimpering softly as Dean pulsed inside him, his thrusts slicker.

Dean pressed soft little kisses to Sam’s neck. “Love you so much. Jesus. So fucking much.”

Sam gave a little sob. “I love you too.” He wrapped his arms around Dean. “I love you too.”

Dean stroked Sam’s hair. “You’re so good, Sammy. So good for me.” Sam basked in the praise, shivering as Dean dropped his hands down and caressed his back.

“You mean it, Sam?” Dean’s voice was steady and low.

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

Sam pulled back to look Dean in the face. “You promised. You swore.”

Dean’s eyes searched Sam’s face. “I did. Just making sure this is what you want.”

“It is.”

Dean nodded. “Ok.” He thought for a moment. “You’re not gonna think of anything but me for the next 48 hours.” Sam’s face shifted, softening. Dean had understood. Without Sam having to explain himself. “I’ll tell everyone you we need a couple of days. Just us. Uninterrupted.”  Dean stroked Sam’s flank. “You’ll get your clothes back in 48 hours. Until then, you stay naked.”

“And ready for you.”

Dean’s mouth twitched. “That’s right, baby boy. But it’s not just gonna be me doing what I want to you. Ok?”

Sam cocked his head.

“If you want to do anything, anything at all—fuck me, ask for something you want, tell me what to do—you just do it. You can have anything you want. You wake up in the middle of the night and want me to suck your dick, you can just sit on my chest and feed it to me. Don’t even have to wake me up first. Ok?”

Sam stared at him like he was Santa Clause with a sack full of sex toys and candy.

“Really?” Sam breathed.

Dean chuckled. “Really.”

“You too. If you wake up and want to fuck me, you can just start. You don’t have to wake me up first.”

Dean frowned, reluctance evident on his face.

“I’m giving you permission now, ok?”

Dean made that funny little circle with his head that he did sometimes. “Really? I can just wake you up with my dick in your ass?”

At that, Sam shivered.

Immediately, Dean’s concern flared to full life. “You cold, Sammy?”

Sam shook his head, a smile spreading over his face.

Dean studied him, then laughed. “Ok. Got it.” Laughing made him wince, and it was then Sam’s turn for his concern to kick into gear.

“You’re sore.” Sam got off Dean and looked him up and down, as if he could see the state of Dean’s bruises through his clothing.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, when are we not sore? Between sparring and training and fighting monsters?”

Sam went to the kitchen and cleaned himself off with a hand towel. “Still. You got thrown into a mirror. And I’m just all over you like…” Sam ran water over the hand towel and set it in the sink. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I like it when you’re all over me.” Dean grinned. “Tell you what. Bring me a pain pill and a grilled cheese, we’re good.”

“You want me to cook for you. Naked.” Sam came back in with two fresh towels. He tossed one to Dean, and cleaned off the coffee table with the other.

“Hey, I didn’t ask for bacon.”

Sam stood up. “Can I at least wear an apron?”

Dean snorted—and then paused. “Yeah. You can wear an apron.”

Sam laughed. “You have so many things.”

Dean’s expression became serious. “I only have one thing, Sam. And that’s you.” Sam’s eyes went wide, his expression soft. Then, with a grin, Dean smacked Sam’s bare ass. “Now get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich.”