SPN Fic: Five Injuries Sam Got While Having Sex with Dean
Title: Five Injuries Sam Got While Having Sex with Dean
Author: D. (abrupte)
Rating: R.
Genre: Total and complete fluff.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Wordcount: 900ish.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimers: They don't belong to me, but if they did, they'd do this all the time.
Summary: Sometimes things don't exactly go as planned.
A/N: clex_monkie89 asked for this. Not beta'd, just cleaned up a little from where I posted it in IMs. Total fluff, written just for fun. Also, there's a companion piece to this, Five Injuries Dean Got While Having Sex with Sam (and One Time Sam Kissed It Better).
†
One.
Dean digs his nails into Sam's scalp while Sam's sucking him off, gasping and groaning as his brother swallows him. It hurts a little, nothing major, and Sam's way more interested in listen to Dean's constant whisper of fuckyeslikethatdon'tstopgodSamdon'tstop to care about that slight sting of pain. Dean digs in deeper as he comes, body arching up, and it hurts but god it feels so good to know he can do this to his brother. When it's over and Dean finally goes limp, Sam pulls away. There's blood under his brother's fingernails and Sam can't help but kiss him.
Two.
Somewhere along the line their wrestling match must have turned into sex, because Dean's got his dick deep inside of Sam and his hand wrapped around his brother's cock. It's rough and joyful, both of them laughing, struggling against each other, the whole bed shaking, headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. Sam tries to sit up, and next thing he knows stars are exploding behind his eyes and his head fucking hurts -- it takes him a second to realise that it isn't an orgasm, he just bashed his head into the headboard. Dean's still pumping him, but not moving, whispering, "Sam, you okay?" softly concerned.
"Yeah," Sam gasps. "Jesus, don't stop, Dean. C'mon." And then Dean's thrusting again, and yeah, Sam's head hurts like hell but Dean fucking him hard and fast is almost enough to make him forget. He comes hard just a second before Dean does, but the dizziness he thought was part of the climax doesn't wear off. It's about fifteen minutes later when he realises that he managed to give himself a concussion.
Three.
It's still dark when he wakes up, the middle of the night. Dean's pressing kisses to the nape of his neck, his shoulders, whispering, "Sammy," quietly in his ear. Sam's still sore from going at it a few hours earlier, but he smiles, turning his head to look at Dean.
"What time is it?" he murmurs, voice a little rough with sleep.
"Three." Dean's kissing him still, peeling the blankets back and climbing on top of him, his large, calloused hands ghosting along Sam's sides. Sam spreads for him, sighing, deeply content. He's pretty sure this is the best way to wake up ever invented. He hisses in pain as Dean pushes into him, and suddenly Sam realises they probably went a little too hard last night. "Shit -- Sam, you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Oh, fuck, it hurts. But it hurts in the right ways, and he shifts a little, whimpering, "C'mon, Dean, please."
But his brother isn't moving, just pressing a kiss to Sam's shoulder blade and murmuring, "I went too hard, didn't I?"
"No, no, it feels good." Sam reaches behind him, resting a large hand on the back of Dean's thigh. "Just -- just go really slow, okay? I want this. Come on."
He feels Dean relax, feels him give in even before he says, "Alright. Alright, but tell me if you want me to stop." And then he's pushing in so slow that it just about kills Sam, soft and easy and exactly what he needs right now, and he's pressing nibbling kisses along Sam's spine.
"God, like that," he murmurs into the pillow, and even though he can't see it, he knows Dean is smiling.
Four.
It's not the first time he's woken up with bruises on his hips and waist from where Dean was holding him, digging fingers into his skin. He lays there in bed, alone, wonders when Dean will be back with breakfast. Until then, he traces fingers over the dark places where Dean's hands were, smiling, because every bruise his brother gives him is a reminder of exactly how much Dean loves him. Sam knows Dean doesn't mark girls like this, doesn't leave them covered in these reminders that whisper Dean was here and I belong to Dean. And Sam knows that Dean doesn't mean to leave him like this, with his skin blue and purple with bruises, and that, that makes Sam grin because nobody else can make his brother lose control, make him forget to be gentle and careful. Sam feels proud, and he'll walk a little taller when he gets dressed, feels the ache of his belt done tight over his tender skin.
Five.
"I'm never letting you blow me again," Sam finally says. "Seriously. Never again."
Dean pouts, sticking his lower lip out dramatically. "Come on, man, it was an accident."
He props himself up on his elbows, staring at his brother. "Dude, you bit me!"
"Yeah, and that's why you should never hit someone on the head while they're giving head! That's what happens!" Dean's right of course, it kinda was his fault, but fuck it hurt -- it still hurts. "Want me to kiss it better?"
Sam finally sits up, shaking his head. "No. No, lay down. I wanna suck you. Let me do that."
Dean doesn't argue, lays back on the bed. He reaches out to touch Sam's arm. "Dude, I'm sorry." Sam just smiles and shakes his head. Neither of them joke about the possibility of Sam getting payback, because they both know he won't.
"It's alright," Sam tells him. He leans down, pressing a kiss to Dean's stomach, feels his brother quiver and sigh beneath him. It's better than any apology.
Author: D. (abrupte)
Rating: R.
Genre: Total and complete fluff.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Wordcount: 900ish.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimers: They don't belong to me, but if they did, they'd do this all the time.
Summary: Sometimes things don't exactly go as planned.
A/N: clex_monkie89 asked for this. Not beta'd, just cleaned up a little from where I posted it in IMs. Total fluff, written just for fun. Also, there's a companion piece to this, Five Injuries Dean Got While Having Sex with Sam (and One Time Sam Kissed It Better).
†
One.
Dean digs his nails into Sam's scalp while Sam's sucking him off, gasping and groaning as his brother swallows him. It hurts a little, nothing major, and Sam's way more interested in listen to Dean's constant whisper of fuckyeslikethatdon'tstopgodSamdon'tstop to care about that slight sting of pain. Dean digs in deeper as he comes, body arching up, and it hurts but god it feels so good to know he can do this to his brother. When it's over and Dean finally goes limp, Sam pulls away. There's blood under his brother's fingernails and Sam can't help but kiss him.
Two.
Somewhere along the line their wrestling match must have turned into sex, because Dean's got his dick deep inside of Sam and his hand wrapped around his brother's cock. It's rough and joyful, both of them laughing, struggling against each other, the whole bed shaking, headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. Sam tries to sit up, and next thing he knows stars are exploding behind his eyes and his head fucking hurts -- it takes him a second to realise that it isn't an orgasm, he just bashed his head into the headboard. Dean's still pumping him, but not moving, whispering, "Sam, you okay?" softly concerned.
"Yeah," Sam gasps. "Jesus, don't stop, Dean. C'mon." And then Dean's thrusting again, and yeah, Sam's head hurts like hell but Dean fucking him hard and fast is almost enough to make him forget. He comes hard just a second before Dean does, but the dizziness he thought was part of the climax doesn't wear off. It's about fifteen minutes later when he realises that he managed to give himself a concussion.
Three.
It's still dark when he wakes up, the middle of the night. Dean's pressing kisses to the nape of his neck, his shoulders, whispering, "Sammy," quietly in his ear. Sam's still sore from going at it a few hours earlier, but he smiles, turning his head to look at Dean.
"What time is it?" he murmurs, voice a little rough with sleep.
"Three." Dean's kissing him still, peeling the blankets back and climbing on top of him, his large, calloused hands ghosting along Sam's sides. Sam spreads for him, sighing, deeply content. He's pretty sure this is the best way to wake up ever invented. He hisses in pain as Dean pushes into him, and suddenly Sam realises they probably went a little too hard last night. "Shit -- Sam, you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Oh, fuck, it hurts. But it hurts in the right ways, and he shifts a little, whimpering, "C'mon, Dean, please."
But his brother isn't moving, just pressing a kiss to Sam's shoulder blade and murmuring, "I went too hard, didn't I?"
"No, no, it feels good." Sam reaches behind him, resting a large hand on the back of Dean's thigh. "Just -- just go really slow, okay? I want this. Come on."
He feels Dean relax, feels him give in even before he says, "Alright. Alright, but tell me if you want me to stop." And then he's pushing in so slow that it just about kills Sam, soft and easy and exactly what he needs right now, and he's pressing nibbling kisses along Sam's spine.
"God, like that," he murmurs into the pillow, and even though he can't see it, he knows Dean is smiling.
Four.
It's not the first time he's woken up with bruises on his hips and waist from where Dean was holding him, digging fingers into his skin. He lays there in bed, alone, wonders when Dean will be back with breakfast. Until then, he traces fingers over the dark places where Dean's hands were, smiling, because every bruise his brother gives him is a reminder of exactly how much Dean loves him. Sam knows Dean doesn't mark girls like this, doesn't leave them covered in these reminders that whisper Dean was here and I belong to Dean. And Sam knows that Dean doesn't mean to leave him like this, with his skin blue and purple with bruises, and that, that makes Sam grin because nobody else can make his brother lose control, make him forget to be gentle and careful. Sam feels proud, and he'll walk a little taller when he gets dressed, feels the ache of his belt done tight over his tender skin.
Five.
"I'm never letting you blow me again," Sam finally says. "Seriously. Never again."
Dean pouts, sticking his lower lip out dramatically. "Come on, man, it was an accident."
He props himself up on his elbows, staring at his brother. "Dude, you bit me!"
"Yeah, and that's why you should never hit someone on the head while they're giving head! That's what happens!" Dean's right of course, it kinda was his fault, but fuck it hurt -- it still hurts. "Want me to kiss it better?"
Sam finally sits up, shaking his head. "No. No, lay down. I wanna suck you. Let me do that."
Dean doesn't argue, lays back on the bed. He reaches out to touch Sam's arm. "Dude, I'm sorry." Sam just smiles and shakes his head. Neither of them joke about the possibility of Sam getting payback, because they both know he won't.
"It's alright," Sam tells him. He leans down, pressing a kiss to Dean's stomach, feels his brother quiver and sigh beneath him. It's better than any apology.