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justinedelarge) wrote2014-09-25 06:12 pm
Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 94: By the Numbers
Title: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 94: By the Numbers
Author: 
justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Reggie/Marcus
Rating: R
Word Count:4,000
Summary: Reggie navigates unfamiliar waters with Marcus; Sam starts Dean's birthday off with a bang.
Warning: None
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.
Master post of all chapters here
Burritos and chips finished, Sam cleared the napkins and foil shreds away. "I'm going to take Bobby his tamales." He could have dropped them off on his way down the hall, but he was starving, and he needed an excuse to spend a few minutes with Bobby alone, to pass on what Danny had recommended for memorable places to take Dean to dinner.
And Sam was hell bent on making Dean's 21st birthday one he would remember forever.
Dean burped, pulled up his t-shirt and exposed his distended stomach. "Gonna love me when I'm old and fat, right, Sammy?"
Brown paper bag of tamales in hand, Sam walked to the couch and gave his belly a playful slap. "Yep." He walked to the door. "Back in a minute."
"Remember," Dean called after Sam, patting his stomach with both hands. "You promised." He took his boots off, pressed play on the Bruce Lee tape that he had stopped while they ate lunch out of consideration for Sam. His brows furrowed, and he fell back on the couch with a sigh. "Damn it. Now I want a pie burrito."
Sam handed Bobby his surprise extra lunch of tamales. Bobby, bleary-eyed, inhaled deeply, a pleased grin spreading across his face.
"So. Dean's birthday."
"Yeah." Bobby settled down on the recliner as Sam fetched a plate and fork.
"I want it to be really nice."
"Me, too, kiddo." Bobby watched as Sam peeled away the foil and unwrapped the corn husks, setting the tamales on the plate. "Shame there aren't any ball games." His nose twitched at the steam rising from the tamales, still hot. "I'd love to take him to a baseball game."
"I thought maybe riding horses. But…" Sam gestured to Bobby's leg.
"Well, hell, Sam, you two could go with Reggie."
"It's not right unless you're with us."
Bobby took a deep breath. "Well, I figured in keeping with tradition, we'd just get him shitfaced. Legally."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know." He sat down on the edge of the couch and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "But Danny told me about this steak house."
"You have my attention," Bobby drawled.
"It has a shooting range, like at Disneyland, right in the restaurant." Sam's eyes were bright with enthusiasm. Bobby stabbed his fork into a fat tamale, studded with green chile and dripping with cheese. "And a candy shop. And they have a free limo. They'll come get you and take you back. From any hotel or motel in Amarillo. They'll pick us up, right from here."
Bobby chewed his bite of tamale. "More drinking. I like it."
"And…" Sam shifted in his seat, unable to hide his excitement. "There's this 72 ounce steak dinner."
Bobby looked up, a thin strand of cheese dangling from the corner of his mouth.
"You finish it all in an hour, it's free." Sam's right leg jittered.
Bobby did the math in his head instantaneously. "That's four and a half pounds of steak."
"Plus a shrimp cocktail, and a baked potato, and salad and a roll."
Bobby set his fork down. "That's a shit ton of food, Sam."
"Yes, it is." Sam rocked back and forth. "Yes, it is."
Bobby's stern expression melted into a delighted grin. "Dean's gonna love it."
Sam let Bobby rest and went back to Dean, who was asleep on the couch, snoring softly. So trusting was he in the total safety of the Sanctuary, in the Great Evil averted at least for now, that he remained fast asleep when Sam came in.
Sam locked the door and leaned against it, just watching Dean sleep, breathing peacefully with the side of his face smushed into the pillow.
Dean opened his eyes, his long, lush eyelashes framing his clear green eyes, and looked up at Sam. "You're back," he said in a sleepy voice.
"Tired?"
"I ate food bigger than my head," Dean murmured.
"Come on." Sam took Dean's hand and brought him upright. "Nap time."
They stripped off to their t-shirts and underwear and got under the blankets. Within moments, Dean was fast asleep. Sam lay in his arms, listening to him breathe, and fell asleep shortly thereafter.
Sam dreamed. He was back in the room filled with demons kneeling before him. Regem Puerum.
A murmur rose among them as Dean strode into the room. Sam raised his right hand, feeling the surge of power within him. The demons lifted into the air and scattered like autumn leaves blown clear by a strong gust of wind.
Dean walked slowly to the throne upon which Sam sat. Keeping his eyes locked on Sam, he dropped to his knees before him and bowed his head. "My King," he whispered.
Sam raised his hand again, and in an instant, Dean was naked. He spread his legs farther apart, gripping his ankles and leaning back, showing Sam how hard and eager he was, cock thick and ready. "Anything you want." His pink mouth gleamed. "Anything."
Sam bit his lip, tasting the faint tang of blood. "Dean..."
He awoke to Dean's mouth on his neck, his hand slipping beneath his underwear, gripping his achingly hard cock. "I got you." Dean licked and sucked at Sam's neck, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him. "You having a dream about me, Sammy?"
Sam shoved his hips up, pushing his cock harder into Dean's hand, suddenly ravenous for his touch. "Yes."
Dean nipped at his neck. "Can't get enough of me, huh? So…what was I doing?"
Sam took Dean's hair in his hands, tight but not enough to hurt, and brought Dean's mouth down on his. "Being good."
Now it was Dean's turn to shiver. He moved down between Sam's parted thighs, opened his pretty pink mouth, and was a very good boy indeed.
Marcus and Reggie spent the day together without leaving the apartment, alternating between the bedroom and the couch, where they ate leftover lasagna and watched classic boxing. Reggie found himself touching Marcus constantly, fingertips brushing over his forearm, silvery moustache tickling the back of his neck just to delight in the way Marcus squirmed and laughed. They slept curled up together, Reggie getting the best night's sleep he could ever recall. But all too soon, the morning arrived, and with it, something that Reggie found himself surprisingly resistant to doing.
Reggie ate the last bite of his scrambled eggs, which Marcus had made along with sourdough toast and jam. "I wish I could stay longer, but…"
Marcus nodded, a flicker of protective distance filming his eyes. "You have to go."
"It's a…" Reggie paused. "A family obligation." There was no way Reggie could bring Marcus back, take him along for Dean's birthday. No way. And yet he found himself wishing he could do exactly that.
Marcus shot Reggie a flirtatious grin. "Too soon to introduce me?"
Reggie exhaled. "I… uh…"
"It's ok." Marcus's smile was rueful. "I know how that goes." He busied himself by clearing the table, reaching over to take Reggie's plate.
Reggie placed his hand on Marcus's wrist. "Not yet."
"Yet." Marcus put the plate down and took Reggie's hand. His eyebrows raised with a silent question.
"I ain't done with you." Reggie tried to make light of it, but emotion thickened his voice. He stood, rubbing his hands down the front of his jeans. "Look. I don't know how to do." He waved his hand between the two of them. "But…" Words failed and he just looked at Marcus, his piercing blue eyes trying to convey the things he wished he knew how to say, feelings stirring he wasn't even 100% sure he could identify.
Marcus squeezed his hand. "Let's go slow. Ok?"
Reggie blew out a sigh of relief.
"You go do your thing. And we'll take it from there." Marcus picked up Reggie's plate. "Just…don't make me wait too long, ok?"
Looking up into Marcus's green eyes, Reggie realized he'd walked himself into another impossible situation—not just being with someone again in a meaningful way, but with a civilian who knew nothing of hunting, of the supernatural creatures hidden in the shadows, of the secret war. But if anyone could think his way through an impossible situation and end up where he wanted to be, it was Reggie Beaumont.
They said goodbye in the doorway of the apartment, Reggie's mouth lingering on Marcus's thick lips, reluctant to pull away, Marcus holding onto his hips lightly, walking a fine line between letting him know he was free to leave and making it tangibly clear that he wished Reggie could stay.
When Reggie pulled out of the parking lot to drive back to the Sanctuary for Dean's birthday celebration, he sucked air through his teeth at the surprising, sharp stab of pain caused by leaving Marcus. If only for now.
The rest of the day and into the next afternoon, Sam could barely restrain himself, so excited was he about all the plans for Dean's birthday that evening. The huge steak dinner. And then, in private, giving Dean a birthday spanking (the very thought of which sent a shiver through Sam of surprising intensity), then the gift of the camcorder, and Sam in the special outfit. What he was going to do for Dean. What Dean was going to do to him.
Suddenly, Sam realized something awful. There was a flaw in his plan. Dean, stuffed to the gills with a 72 ounce steak dinner with all the fixings, and the elaborate sexual fantasy Sam had planned for him afterward. This could well be a disastrous combination. Especially with all the alcohol Bobby and Reggie doubtless had planned for him. He could picture the unpleasant result now, Sam in the pretty little outfit and panties, Dean trying desperately not to throw up—and probably failing.
He had to alter his plan, just a bit. Make sure every last bit of it happened—just in stages.
Dean was still in the bathroom, fussing over his hair.
"Dean." Sam sat up on the couch.
"Yeah?"
"Come here." Sam put a little edge into his voice.
Dean walked into the living room, bare feet padding across the carpet, wearing only his favorite pair of blue jeans. Sam's gaze roamed over him, appraising him so overtly that a flush of pink appeared on Dean's face.
"See something you like?"
Sam licked his lower lip, and his expression made his response perfectly clear. He rose to his feet, the muscles of his upper body somehow becoming more pronounced as he moved, his posture more regal. "I said come here."
Dean shivered visibly. Sam's tone of voice, his mien, was different.
Powerful.
He bit his lower lip, remembering Sam with the demons, with Azazel. The power crackling off him. Sam Winchester is not to be touched.
His brother, his soulmate. The Boy King.
Sam smiled, seeming so much older than his years. Dean came to him.
The air in the room felt charged, electric.
Dean swiped his tongue over his lower lip, eyes rapt on Sam's face. Something about him. His expression.
"Are you ready for your birthday spanking?"
Dean's breath caught in his throat. Sam's hazel eyes on him, loving but commanding. So tall now.
So tall.
Dean swallowed. "Yeah."
Sam stepped closer, not quite touching Dean, waiting.
Dean swayed forward, mouth parting. Wanting.
Sam grinned and kissed him, slow and sweet and deep. "Go face the wall." A subtle tone thickened Sam's voice, making it clear this was an order.
Dean obeyed.
"Put your hands on it." Dean placed his palms flat against the wall, already straining against his jeans. "Good."
Sam walked slowly up next to him, ran his hand from the base of Dean's neck to the curve of his ass, caressing it. "How do you want it? Soft? Or hard?"
The question felt like a test.
Dean closed his eyes, felt the power radiating off Sam wash over him, loosening and warming him. "However you want it."
Sam chuckled. "Good answer." His hands moved at Dean's waist, undoing his belt buckle, the brass button at the top of his jeans, unzipping them and tugging them down to mid-thigh. He stood directly behind Dean, pressing against him, his breath warm against Dean's neck. "You gonna be good, Dean? Keep your hands right where they are?"
Dean closed his eyes, the desire to please Sam overwhelming him. He whispered, "Obediam." I will obey.
Immediately, Sam swore, gripped Dean's shoulders and spun him, slamming him against the way and devouring his mouth. Finally, he pulled free, pressing his forehead against Dean's, panting. "Latin."
Dean bit his lip, nerves blazing at the effect his words had had on Sam. Hemurmured, "Dominus meus es." You are my master.
"Holy hell," Sam uttered, claiming Dean's mouth once more. "Dean." His hands roamed over Dean's bare back, arms, down to the curve of his ass. Reluctantly, Sam pulled away from Dean, turned him to face the wall, guided his palms flat against the smooth white surface.
"Hold still."
Dean nodded.
"And count them off."
Dean blew out a breath.
Sam's palm rose and fell, striking Dean's flesh with a loud slap.
"Unus."
Sam groaned, and Dean could not repress a grin at his cleverness at counting in Latin knowing what it would do to Sam.
Sam stood back, watching the red shape of his hand fill in on Dean's pale skin. Then he brought his hand down again on the other ass cheek, nice and hard.
"Duo."
Sam moved closer, rubbed his hand over Dean's ass lightly. "Today's the best day of the year for me, Dean. Did you know that? Because it's the day you came into this world." Sam brushed his mouth over Dean's cheek and brought his hand down hard, his lips feeling the little jolt that ran through Dean's body.
"Tres." Dean counted off the third spank.
Sam pressed himself against Dean's left flank, rock hard in his jeans, and brought his hand down again. And again. And again.
"Quattuor. Quinque. Sex."
Sam's mouth twitched. "Yes. Definitely." He rubbed his hand over Dean's ass, soothing the sting of his slaps. "But not…quite…yet." He pulled away, and positioned himself to land the next four slaps on Dean's left ass cheek.
"Septem. Octo. Novem. Decem." Dean winced. Sam was strong, and he wasn't going easy on Dean. Each slap sent a thrum of pain through him, pain indistinguishable from pleasure.
Sam's left hand moved between Dean's legs, cradled his balls and squeezed gently. Dean gasped, nearly choked and coughed. Sam massaged his balls, held them as he delivered the next two blows of his hand.
"Undecim…duodecim…"
Sam's hand moved upward, squeezed the head of Dean's cock. Dean moaned, pushing his hips forward into Sam's fist.
"You're doing so good," Sam murmured. He released Dean's cock and stood back, eliciting a groan of disappointment from Dean. "Show me how much you can take." Sam's voice was a whisper and command all at once.
"Obediam," Dean repeated, braced himself against the wall and pushed his hips back, ready to take what Sam wanted to give him. Sam groaned, claimed Dean's mouth once more, then stood back.
His hand snapped down hard.
"Tredecim."
Again, even harder. Dean gasped, the impact sending a pulse of pleasure directly to his cock, the pain slightly louder than the pleasure this time. He looked for the word, couldn't find it.
"Careful, now." Sam's voice was amused. "You lose count, we have to start all over again."
Dean concentrating, willing the correct word to rise up into his consciousness. "Quattuordecim."
"Good boy." His little brother calling him a good boy while smacking his ass red should not have been so goddamn hot, not by a long shot, but here Dean was, squirming and shivering under the praise.
Sam's hand rose and fell, merciless. His ass burned, each impact sending a sharp stab of pleasure/pain then a surge of heat as blood flowed into the area. "Quin…decim. Sedecim. Sept…septa..septendecim," he stammered.
Sam paused, soothing his palm over Dean's flesh, rubbing the sting away. "Next few are tricky, Dean. Sure you remember? You get it wrong…" Sam's voice was a low purr. "…we have to start over." Sam brought his hand down in a sharp crack, right across the center of Dean's ass.
Dean's brain was pure sex and love, love and need, and a desperate desire to please Sam. Yet he forced his mind to concentrate, not on his cock, heavy and literally throbbing, or on his ass, throbbing in time with the blood pulsing in his cock, but on Latin. Remembering what he'd learned. Eighteen and nineteen are formed in a subtracting manner, two from twenty, one from twenty…
"Duodeviginti, " Dean choked out.
Sam kissed the back of Dean's neck. "You're so fucking smart. You know that?" Dean trembled under the praise. "So smart." He trailed his fingertips along the underside of Dean's cock, making him hiss. Then another slap, to the underside of his right ass cheek, mercilessly hard, lifting it up.
Dean's cock jumped in Sam's hand. "Undeviginti." One from twenty.
"Just two more, Dean." Sam's fingertips moved in tiny circles over the head of Dean's cock.
Dean panted, kept his palms flat, pushed his ass out towards Sam's hand. "Do it."
Sam laughed, and stepped back so he could get a full swing. "You asked for it." Sam brought his hand right on the most tender, reddened part of Dean's ass. Dean yelped, throwing his head back. "Viginti," he gasped.
"Last one." And Sam really made it count, spreading his palm as wide as possible and smacking him as hard as he could. Pain and pleasure and pride mingled in Dean, unleashing a dizzying cocktail of endorphins. "Viginti unus."
Suddenly Dean was being turned, drawn into Sam's arms, his jeans falling to his ankles. "Perfect," Sam whispered. "You're perfect." His mouth claimed Dean's, his hands rubbed little circles into Dean's burning skin, soothing it. "Took it all. For me."
"Always," Dean murmured into Sam's mouth. He looked into Sam's face. Saw the power shimmering from Sam.
He saw the Boy King.
Dean kicked his jeans off and sank to his knees, looking up into the face of his Sam. Regem Puerum. The boy meant to be powerful enough to serve as Lucifer's right-hand man. His Sam.
His King.
His hands scrabbled at Sam's belt, pulling it open, pulling Sam's cock free. He looked up into Sam's face, and somehow he got a flash. He spread his legs farther apart, gripping his ankles and leaning back, showing Sam how hard and eager he was.
Dean took hold of his ankles, thrust his hips forward, offering himself to Sam, and uttered the words tickling the back of his mind. "Anything you want."
Sam inhaled sharply, his dream from earlier made real. Then he leaned down and guided Dean's perfect, pink mouth to where it was born to be.
Dean worshipped Sam with his lips and tongue, with the soft wetness of his mouth, the feel of his cock in Dean's mouth almost as pleasurable for him as it was for Sam. Sam forced himself to keep still, to make Dean do all the work. And Dean put his back into it, groaning with the pleasure of servicing Sam in that way, cock leaking a thin, steady stream of precome onto the carpet. Finally, Sam pulled Dean free, with one hand tangled in his hair. He glanced down and saw Dean's cock, leaking steadily. "So wet," he said softly, bending over to drag his fingertips over the head and brought them to his lips. He closed his eyes at the taste of Dean. "Come on." He took Dean's hand and brought him into the bedroom.
Sam got on the bed, grabbing the bottle of lube, and pulled Dean down to kneel over him. He slicked up both their cocks and positioned Dean right above him, his cock laid flat against Sam's. He brought Dean's hands down, wrapped them around their cocks, and lay back, folding his hands behind his head. "Make me come." His voice had that thrum of power he had used when commanding the demons.
Dean bit his lip, the tone of Sam's voice making all the nerves in his body sing. He pushed his hips forward, rubbing himself on Sam, the shamelessness of the motion sparking something inside him he hadn't been aware was there.
Sam's eyes gleamed, lips curling into a smile. "Just like that."
Dean thrust his hips forward, sliding his cock over Sam's. Sam's eyes on him, laying back like that, so cocky, telling him what to do, loosened the ties of inhibition within Dean. The more shamelessly he moaned and wagged his hips, the greater the pleasure on Sam's face and the more he praised Dean. "God, so good, Dean, so perfect, like that, yeah, doing so good…"
Dean held their cocks together with both hands, like they were both inside the same tight channel, Dean sliding over Sam's cock, groaning out his pleasure. "Don't you dare come before me," Sam warned Dean. Dean swore and promised not to, and worked himself on Sam's cock, watching the color flood Sam's cheeks, watching what he did to Sam.
Sam lay back and let Dean do all the work, kept his fingers laced behind his head, a wordless command for Dean to please him.
Serve him.
And Dean wanted nothing more in the world than to do just that. "Sammy." His voice was soft. "Is that good?"
"So good." Sam reached up and pulled Dean down for a kiss, both palms on his cheeks, holding him still. His tongue drove into Dean's mouth, the aggressor, and Dean moaned in response.
Dean's responsiveness, his total willingness to go there with Sam, brought Sam right to the edge. He put his hands back behind his head again, (the way Dean bit his lip in response not lost on him whatsoever), and commanded, "Make me come."
Dean thrust his hips forward and back, no inhibitions at all, rutting against Sam shamelessly, mouth open, letting the sounds of pleasure spill out of him, hands sliding up and down on their cocks, stroking them from the outside. Sam sweated and gasped, the full force of Dean intent on giving Sam as much pleasure as possible coming to bear on him. His back arched, hands coming up to rest on Dean's ass, still hot to the touch from the spanking, urging him forward harder, faster. "Fuck, yeah, oh my fucking god…" The orgasm spilled over, a full-body release, every muscle and nerve taking part, spurting out of him, hot in Dean's hands, slicked over their cocks as Dean kept moving.
And when Dean looked down at him, cheeks stained as pink as his lips, and said, "Sam, can I, , can I come?" the shock of that unsolicited submission to him, of Dean Winchester, all that swagger and power, asking Sam for permission to come, sent sparks flying throughout him.
"Yeah. Come for me…" Sam managed to choke out before the ecstasy peaked, before words disappeared, before time cracked apart. He gripped Dean as hard as he could, trying to fuse with him body and spirit. The cords in Dean's neck stood out, face contorting as he came, right after Sam, only a moment behind.
Dean collapsed on top of Sam, doing his best to hold his weight off him. Sam rolled him onto his side so they could relax completely. He kissed Dean's forehead, stroking his hand over the curve of Dean's ass. After a long time, he spoke. "So. Too much?"
"Nah." Dean smiled. "I'm good."
They lay in sated, easy silence. "Happy birthday, Dean."
"It's my birthday." Dean murmured, sleepy as he always was after sex.
"Got something special planned. A couple special things."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I mean, if you like steak."
Dean roused, his perfectly arranged hair now touseled and sticking up in different directions. "I love steak." He sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "There's gonna be steak?"
Sam grinned. "Oh yeah. There's gonna be steak."
(Author: More to come very soon!)
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Can't wait for more! *bounces excitedly*
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I must admit that the whole commanding!boy king!Sam makes me a little uncomfortable, because of all the implications of evilness that come with it for me, I guess. However, in this context, I could definitely see the appeal... ;) And you always manage to balance it all out so perfectly, that's a skill I admire so much with your writing (among many other things of course). So, in short, as long as their love and devotion shines through - and with your verse it always does - I'm all for it, I suppose. :D
Thank you for this, and I'm very excited for more, as ever! ♥
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Sam is special, and has developed certain skills and powers. He still has those, even though he is no longer going to be groomed for evil. So I'm exploring that. I don't even know for sure where I'm going with it, but it's working for me so far. :)
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This 'verse. I swear sometimes I forget how much I love it until you update it. I've read it through so many times. I just love it. Every piece. I'm excited for Dean's birthday dinner and Bobby and Reggie and I really hope Reggie gets some good from Marcus, although I think Marcus will surprise Reggie in the sense that he's not /expecting/ a ton from Reggie except emotional commitment.
Love this times infinity. Thanks for continuing to update!!!!!
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This was just incredibly hot in the way that only your writing every really accomplishes for me. The complete abandon the boys have that can only come with a truly deep trust, the kind of trust that comes from *real* love - that's what makes your Sam and Dean so much hotter, and why I love them and this story so much.
And Reggie and Marcus!! I love them, the slow build of a new relationship that has the sweetness of something you just know is special. I don't want this story to ever end...but I can't wait for you to write your original novel either. *so torn*