Supernatural ficlet, "Hell" (Sam/Dean, NC-17)
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Hell
Author: _arby_
Pairing: Sam/Dean slash
Rating: NC-17/M/18+ or whatever they're calling it these days (read: smut)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Wincest, angst
Length: ~600 words
Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em.
Summary: Sam was going to hell. He didn't even believe in it, but he was definitely going there.
Note: So am I. And not just any old hell - I'm going to Special Hell.
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Sam was going to hell. He didn't even believe in it, but he was definitely going there. A few too many demons throwing futile taunts like "See you in hell!" had worn the shiny off what faith he had left after having grown up in this family, and intellectually he was pretty sure there was no such place. But as his brother's warm, wet mouth enclosed Sam's stiff cock, he just knew there was a seat in hell with his name on it.
"God, Dean, I can't stand it," Sam moaned helplessly. It was so wrong, yet he couldn't seem to stop doing it. Definition of a sinner, right there.
He looked down at the top of Dean's head and twisted a fist in Dean's spiky hair, pulled him up just enough to meet his eyes. "Tell me we're not going to hell, big brother."
Dean made a face that said duh and kinda busy here and Sam let him go. He was getting the tingling feeling in his spine that meant he was about to come.
"Oh yeah - suck it," he panted despite himself, wallowing in the sickness, so close to the edge, and Dean looking at him smiled around his dick and it was the sexiest thing Sam'd ever seen, and he shot endlessly into his brother's hot mouth while Dean stroked his balls lightly, sending tremors through his entire body.
For a long moment Sam was paralyzed with sheer pleasure. Then he reached down and pulled Dean up by the shoulders, clutching at him like the sad little girl he was, as Dean eased himself onto the bed. His bare chest pressed against Sam in a way that was somehow even more forbidden than blowjobs, because any guy responded to a blowjob, right? Straight, gay, didn't matter much who gave it, a blowjob was a blowjob, really. But only a pervert would lose his breath when he saw his brother's naked chest, let alone feel weak in the knees when touching it. Even if that chest was a thing of utter beauty - someone could sculpt it and make a mint. All muscles and scars; Dean was (really) built, but his body also bore witness to years of the hunt.
He ran his hand over the bulge in Dean's shorts, his tighty-whiteys that were endlessly amusing and yet somehow completely hot at the same time. Dean hissed in a breath and looked at him with those eyes, so dark and liquid, so innocent in a weird sort of way because he just wanted Sam. He seemed to know what they were doing was supposed to be wrong, and every so often expressed a certain gruff, inarticulate remorse, but he didn't have the deep existential shame that plagued Sam.
Sam looked over. Dean was still watching him, tongue snaking out to lick his bottom lip briefly. When he saw he had Sam’s attention again, he made a face.
"I know you're wallowing in guilt there Sam-" an almost imperceptible pause where he would have used the nickname, "but would you mind postponing the self-flagellation until after I've had my turn? I knew I should have gone first. You always get like this after you come."
"Oh, stop bitching. I'm snapping out of it. See? All better now."
He tried to push all conscious thought to the back of his mind, and leaned over to attack his brother's mouth, which was still salty from sucking Sam off. It was kind of gross and hot at the same time. Dean closed his eyes involuntarily as Sam sucked on his tongue while skimming a hand down that chest, lightly brushing the taut nipples, to land in his lap again.
"Mm, I'd say that's...quite a bit better," Dean smirked, almost as soon as Sam relinquished his mouth, but he was breathing hard and his voice was lower than usual. He watched as Sam took his cock out through the fly of his underwear and began stroking it teasingly. Sam had that look on his face, the one that said he was determined to to return in kind the favor Dean had done for him. Dean liked that look. Good things happened to him when Sam wore it.
Title: Hell
Author: _arby_
Pairing: Sam/Dean slash
Rating: NC-17/M/18+ or whatever they're calling it these days (read: smut)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Wincest, angst
Length: ~600 words
Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em.
Summary: Sam was going to hell. He didn't even believe in it, but he was definitely going there.
Note: So am I. And not just any old hell - I'm going to Special Hell.
-------------------------------------------------
Sam was going to hell. He didn't even believe in it, but he was definitely going there. A few too many demons throwing futile taunts like "See you in hell!" had worn the shiny off what faith he had left after having grown up in this family, and intellectually he was pretty sure there was no such place. But as his brother's warm, wet mouth enclosed Sam's stiff cock, he just knew there was a seat in hell with his name on it.
"God, Dean, I can't stand it," Sam moaned helplessly. It was so wrong, yet he couldn't seem to stop doing it. Definition of a sinner, right there.
He looked down at the top of Dean's head and twisted a fist in Dean's spiky hair, pulled him up just enough to meet his eyes. "Tell me we're not going to hell, big brother."
Dean made a face that said duh and kinda busy here and Sam let him go. He was getting the tingling feeling in his spine that meant he was about to come.
"Oh yeah - suck it," he panted despite himself, wallowing in the sickness, so close to the edge, and Dean looking at him smiled around his dick and it was the sexiest thing Sam'd ever seen, and he shot endlessly into his brother's hot mouth while Dean stroked his balls lightly, sending tremors through his entire body.
For a long moment Sam was paralyzed with sheer pleasure. Then he reached down and pulled Dean up by the shoulders, clutching at him like the sad little girl he was, as Dean eased himself onto the bed. His bare chest pressed against Sam in a way that was somehow even more forbidden than blowjobs, because any guy responded to a blowjob, right? Straight, gay, didn't matter much who gave it, a blowjob was a blowjob, really. But only a pervert would lose his breath when he saw his brother's naked chest, let alone feel weak in the knees when touching it. Even if that chest was a thing of utter beauty - someone could sculpt it and make a mint. All muscles and scars; Dean was (really) built, but his body also bore witness to years of the hunt.
He ran his hand over the bulge in Dean's shorts, his tighty-whiteys that were endlessly amusing and yet somehow completely hot at the same time. Dean hissed in a breath and looked at him with those eyes, so dark and liquid, so innocent in a weird sort of way because he just wanted Sam. He seemed to know what they were doing was supposed to be wrong, and every so often expressed a certain gruff, inarticulate remorse, but he didn't have the deep existential shame that plagued Sam.
Sam looked over. Dean was still watching him, tongue snaking out to lick his bottom lip briefly. When he saw he had Sam’s attention again, he made a face.
"I know you're wallowing in guilt there Sam-" an almost imperceptible pause where he would have used the nickname, "but would you mind postponing the self-flagellation until after I've had my turn? I knew I should have gone first. You always get like this after you come."
"Oh, stop bitching. I'm snapping out of it. See? All better now."
He tried to push all conscious thought to the back of his mind, and leaned over to attack his brother's mouth, which was still salty from sucking Sam off. It was kind of gross and hot at the same time. Dean closed his eyes involuntarily as Sam sucked on his tongue while skimming a hand down that chest, lightly brushing the taut nipples, to land in his lap again.
"Mm, I'd say that's...quite a bit better," Dean smirked, almost as soon as Sam relinquished his mouth, but he was breathing hard and his voice was lower than usual. He watched as Sam took his cock out through the fly of his underwear and began stroking it teasingly. Sam had that look on his face, the one that said he was determined to to return in kind the favor Dean had done for him. Dean liked that look. Good things happened to him when Sam wore it.