Dark & Deadly - 1/1
Title: Dark & Deadly
Author: Blueeyedliz
Word Count: 1,499
Rating & Warnings: Hard NC/17 - wincest, bottom!Sam, blood, violence, swearing, - nasty stuff. This isn’t Disney, people. ‘Danger, Will Robinson.’
Summary: Written for the blindfold_spn kink meme, based on this prompt: dark!boys (more lovable-serial-killer dark than demon dark though please) with incest kink. They totally get off on disgusting people with it. Bonus if it's some girl who was hitting on one of the boys & totally got led on for a while.
A/N: Loads of thanks to scarlettraven9 & heatherofnight for their super speedy beta work - producing anything even remotely readable would be impossible without the awesome friends I’ve made in Fandom.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own a thing.
Dark and Deadly
It starts a little something like this.
The brothers are downing beers and matching each-other shot for shot in a shitty dive on a highway in the middle of bumfuck, nowhere. The place is crammed with bikers and the women are easily as dog-ugly as the men.
Dean couldn’t give a flying fuck if all the women looked like Pamela Anderson in Baywatch circa 1995. He’s only got eyes for his brother.
Sam’s riding the happy train to Drunksville. His eyes are already cloudy, his smile lopsided and sloppily plastered across his face. The blood he’s lost from the bullet wound in his leg is definitely helping him get smashed in half the time it would normally take. He has blood crusted underneath his fingernails and a few dried flakes of it stuck in his hair. That blood isn’t Sam’s though. It belongs to the dumb hick sheriff’s deputy who is stuffed inside the Impala’s trunk.
You see, Sam likes to play with them before Dean moves in for the kill.
~Then~
With the deputy handcuffed and helpless in the abandoned shack they’re currently calling home, Sam draws the serrated edge of his blade along the man’s sweat-drenched skin. Sometimes he likes to lap at the line of blood which bubbles to the surface of a flesh wound and tonight is no different. The red staining Sam’s white teeth makes him look manic, crazy and he smiles at the deputy whose nostrils flare as he hyperventilates into the dirty bandanna being used as a makeshift gag.
Sam keeps slicing, picking his spots with careful consideration until he hears the sound of Dean’s jaw cracking as his brother yawns and he knows then that Dean is growing tired of the floor show.
That’s when Dean decides to join in. He crawls across the carpet on his hands and knees, working his way over to where Sam is crouched in front of the man currently cuffed to the radiator.
Dean claims Sam’s lips in an open-mouthed kiss. The deputy is still conscious enough to watch. Fucking around with his brother is always more of a turn on when it’s a spectator sport.
“I’m Dean Winchester and this is my little brother, Sammy.” Dean licks his tongue up the side of Sam’s face, tastes dried salty sweat and iron. It’s so fucking delicious, he has to force himself to stop. “But I know you’ve heard of us, haven’t you, Barney Fife? See, I don’t like it when some hillbilly pig puts a bullet in my brother.” Dean’s eyes flash with dangerous intent as he speaks.
The deputy shrinks back, handcuffs rattling louder than his muffled whimpers. “I’m guessing you came all the way out here to try and bring us in, maybe you had your eyes on that fat reward but I honestly couldn’t give a shit. You shot my brother and that means you deserve what you’ve got coming.”
“Dean...” Sam’s voice is reverberating with need. Dean can feel Sam’s long muscular body quivering at the side of him and he puts his hand on Sam’s bandaged thigh, urging him to still.
Not long now, Sammy. I’ve got you baby brother. I’ve always got you.
Dean draws his Beretta from his belt, presses the end of the barrel against the deputy’s forehead hard enough to leave a circular red mark and drags it down until it’s level with his lips. “Open your mouth.”
The deputy squeezes his mouth tightly closed, eyes wide with fear and Dean uses brute force to push the barrel inside, cold metal scraping against the man’s teeth.
Sam’s practically bouncing, squeezing Dean’s arm hard enough to cut off the circulation. He tips his head back and yells with delight when Dean pulls the trigger.
Dean pulls Sam under his arm. Holding him close, he strokes his fingers through Sam’s tangled hair until his brother grows calm, practically purring deep in his throat.
They fuck right there in the blood and brain matter, oblivious to the tiny shards of skull fragments digging into their naked backs.
~Now~
Sam sobers almost instantly when he notices the slim brunette with her boobs falling out of her top. She’s eyeballing their table like she’s got a sweet tooth and Dean’s cotton candy.
He visibly tenses when she saunters over, taking a seat in their booth without being invited. “I’m Shirley, what’s your name, handsome?” Shirley’s pink tongue licks seductively across her nicotine stained teeth.
Sam shifts himself over so that he’s sitting right by Dean’s side as Shirley continues to display goods long past their sell by date.
“I’m Dean.” Dean’s not even bothering to lift his gaze from the whiskey tumbler in front of him. Fingers curled around the bottle next to it, he refills his glass and then pours another shot for Sam.
“Wanna go some place private, Dean?” Shirley asks, nibbling at her pink stained lips.
“He’s a little busy right now, sweetheart,” Sam says, nice as you please.
She hesitates, confused, before following Sam’s eye line to where his hand disappears beneath the table. Leaning forward in her seat, curiosity taking over, she covers her mouth when she realizes Dean’s dick is out of his pants and resting in Sam’s hand.
“Oh...shit, I-I didn’t realize that he’s your boyfriend.” She splutters, face coloring a violent shade of cherry red.
“He’s my brother.”
Shirley makes a choking noise, gasping like she’s got a chicken bone lodged in her throat and almost trips over her stilettos in the rush to get away.
“Damn it, I was enjoying myself and now we’ve got to go.” Dean grouses, licking the last drops of liquor from the bottom of his glass.
“No we don’t.” Sam smiles, sliding himself onto Dean’s lap.
The bar is pretty dark but Dean knows they’re not exactly invisible and Shirley is probably already shooting her stupid slut mouth off...Dean’s thoughts stutter to a stop as Sam rubs himself against Dean’s exposed hard cock.
“Fuck”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m banking on.” Sam answers back, his mouth is so close that his breath is hot and whiskey sour against Dean’s cheek.
Sam unbuckles his jeans; eyes not leaving Dean’s flushed face. He braces himself against the back of the booth as he tugs down his pants and boxers. Then he twists around so that he’s facing away and lowers himself onto Dean’s dick. There’s no prep and it must burn like a son of a bitch but Sam likes it rough, gets off on pain.
With his brother bent over the sticky tabletop, Dean rocks his hips, bouncing Sam with each upwards thrust. He bites into Sam’s neck, stifling his moans as he feels the heat of Sam’s flesh against his mouth.
Sam wiggles his ass, pushing down and Dean runs his hand up the inside of Sam’s shirt, tracing possessive words onto his skin.
Mine, mine, mine.
There’s a commotion brewing at the other side of the bar. Sam lifts his head and steals a glance, sees five or six beefy looking guys starting to move towards them. At least two of the group are carrying crude weapons, a broken pool cue and a metal baseball bat. Shirley is a few steps behind, eyes darting nervously between the brothers and the approaching men.
“We’ve got company.” Sam whispers.
Dean digs his fingers into his brother’s flesh as he comes with a shout. Shooting his load, he rests his forehead against Sam’s back and sucks in a few large mouthfuls of air. “Then let’s have some fun.”
“What we just did wasn’t fun?”
“That was the appetizer, baby. I want to take you home for the main course....after we’ve finished this.” Dean grins. Tucking himself away, he’s already reaching for the knife in his boot with his free hand.
~
Sam’s staring out of the back window as the Impala roars into the night. The air is thick with smoke, great black plumes which obliterate the stars and blot out the milk white moon. “It’s so beautiful,” he whispers in awe. Dean puts a firm hand on Sam’s neck and drags him in for a kiss. “I love it when you’re like this. You’re so fucking wired after a kill,” Sam says, licking out the inside of Dean’s mouth, humming with pleasure.
Dean grins widely, baring his teeth; he looks as downright bloodthirsty and dangerous as he is.
The bar had been a stinking cesspool of a dump anyway. It’ll be a few hours before someone comes along and finds the carnage, blackened bodies buried underneath smoldering wood and charred brickwork.
Sammy has always liked pretty things. Whether it’s someone else’s blood, dancing orange flames or Dean’s cock eagerly rising to attention just at the sight of him.
Either way, everything ends in the violence which walks hand in hand with the interminable love they have for one another.
For the Winchester brothers nobody else matters, nobody else even exists, but them.
~end~