Fic: Keys to the Kingdom | Dean/Sam | NC 17 | 1600 words
Title: Keys to the Kingdom
Author: girlguidejones
Pairing/Rating: Dean/Sam, NC 17
Note: For salt_burn_porn, for the prompt "could be the last time". Written in the wee hours of the morning, completely in need of beta-ing and sadly lacking in it, but hey! I didn't pass!
Subject: Sam and Dean find themselves at Disney.
"Check it out."
Sam leaned over a little into Dean's personal space bubble and chin-pointed to the two little girls on the sidewalk. Normally Dean would object to such things (the leaning, not the chin-pointing) but he was feeling mellow. It had been a good day.
"Huh," Dean grunted in reply, lip-corners quirking up in amusement. Two little girls, maybe eight and five, if he had to guess, were plopped down cross-legged in the middle of the sidewalk. They were clearly Big Sis and Little Sis, the younger a damn-near carbon copy of the older, both with masses of dark curls and matching rainbow skirts. And-because this was Disneyworld-Mickey ears. The younger girl's were hot pink velvet, and her big sis's were desert-camo-sequined. Dean hadn't even realized there was such a thing.
When he was a kid they were all just black felt.
Their weary parents reclined on the bench across from the one Sam and Dean were sharing, all of them waiting for the ferry to take them back to the Boardwalk. Miraculously they were the only people there. Camo-Mickey wasn't what had caught Sam's attention, though it should have been because those ears were really kinda awesome. The girls were playing rock-paper-scissors to pass the time, but like kids do, they had apparently made their own version of it.
It looked typical, if you just glanced, but every third round or so the littlest girl would throw something that wasn't a rock, paper, or scissors. Sam started leaning over and whispering his guesses into Dean's ear.
"Tree," Sam said, his lips brushing the shell of Dean's ear. Little sis had opened her fist and wiggled her fingers in the air, and it did kinda look like a tree swaying in the wind. Another few standard-issue rounds went by before she flattened her palm, like you would paper, but held it on its edge, instead of horizontally. She then wriggled it toward her sister.
"Fish," Sam whispered again, his arm warm and solid on the bench behind Dean's shoulders. Big Sis kept throwing the standard three, taking her little sibling's variations in stride, sometimes declaring victory and sometimes relinquishing a round to her sister. Apparently it is commonly accepted knowledge that fish beats rock, because there weren't any arguments.
"Bunny rabbit," got Sam a scowl, because that one was pretty easy; even Dean recognized the hopping rabbit ears. (Scissors beats rabbit, and Dean's not entirely sure how that works out but the potential interpretations leave him queasy with a visionary flash of bloody rabbit skins.)
The ferry was pulling up now, parents urging the girls up and into position. But little sis had totally brought her A-game, saving her best for last. Her sister threw scissors one last time (Dean approved), but the tiny girl opposite her curled both hands, thumb-tips touching each other and pointing down, and fingers curved delicately in a heart above them.
Sam's chuckle was low and his breath gusted hot on the point of Dean's jaw.
"Love," he breathed, nosing just below Dean's ear as the family boarded the ferry ahead of them.
"Jeezus, Sammy, PDA much?" Dean shivered, shoving Sam away as they climbed aboard, but his brother crowded into the same bench with him anyway, even though there was a whole ferry's worth to choose from.
Bluffing their way through that Keys to the Kingdom tour was a bitch, but it got them access to where they needed to be, and the Disney people were quietly grateful to have their Haunted Mansion only pretend-haunted once again. Even better, they didn't mind showing it. The complimentary stay in the Steeplechase Suite was-at $3000/night-worth more than any job ever had ever paid them.
More than all the jobs had ever paid them, really. Put together.
The way Sam was coming onto him, Dean half-expected to be tackled the moment the door closed but instead he just bumped shoulders with Dean and held his hands out, fist on his open palm.
"Throw ya for first shower?" Sam said, grinning. Which was ridiculous, really, because this place had two full bathrooms, but they were so used to being in each other's space that they hadn't bothered with the second. Or the second bedroom either, for that matter.
Three fist pumps and out, but when Sam opened his hand that was definitely NOT a rock or scissors or paper. In fact, it was a little obscene. Dean goggled at him, but Sam just grinned back, and made ready to go again. Same result…a finger poking into a circle.
It was gonna take more than paper to cover that.
"Sammy, you dirty dog…" was all that Dean got out before Sam tackled him onto the giant four-poster. This time Dean nudged Sam, hands held out.
"O K" he signed into his palm, grinning, and that's all it took to get his brother's hands busy with other things. They shed clothes and boots, dislodging the towel-animals the maids had left from the bed. Dean was glad; he thought they were sort of creepy.
Sam knelt above him, eyes shining.
"What's gotten into you?" Dean laughed, hand wrapped around the back of Sam's thigh.
"I just…I remember," Sam said, "how we always just got each other, like we had our own language and it didn't matter if other people got it or not. It was ours."
"Yeah?" Dean asked, his hand now moving around to cup Sam's balls.
"Yeah," Sam gasped, hips jerking back, trying to get Dean's fingers closer to his hole.
"Well, I know what's mine," Dean grinned, and Sam laughed. "Your ass, baby brother."
Sam groaned, but it was just for show, since he dropped to his belly so fast it made Dean lightheaded. He humped the mattress a couple times before Dean got himself situated between Sam's legs, tongue delving deep into the cleft of Sam's ass. Then Sam had trouble deciding whether he wanted to grind into the bed or push himself back harder onto Dean's mouth.
Dean bathed Sam's hole with his tongue, over and over as Sam came apart beneath him, babbling about rocks and love and fish as Dean pushed a finger, then two, in beside his tongue.
"Gonna get you ready, Sammy. You're gonna be so ready I just slide in, so wet I don't even have to work it, you're gonna want it that bad, gonna be so slick...so open…"
Sam was frantic at that point, always the same when Dean got going on the dirty talk, ready to try or submit to anything when Dean got him that revved up. And Dean was pushing it for all he was worth, spitting directly onto Sam's tight furl and forcing both his thumbs into Sam, working him open.
"God…godfuckDean…" Sam groaned, ass pushing back into Dean's face.
"Pretty much," Dean answered cheerfully, tonguing the skin stretching ever wider around his thumbs. "Look how you open for me…pretty little slut-ass, waiting for my cock…"
"Dean…Dean please…m'ready," Sam begged. "So ready, c'mon. Please…" Sam's hand crept underneath his body, but Dean was having none of that.
"You put a hand on your cock and that's all you're gonna get tonight, is your own goddammed hand, I promise you that, Sammy," Dean threatened. Sam relented, groaning with frustration as he gave up.
"PleasegodDean, fuck me, c'mon…"
And that was enough. More than enough, really, because Dean suddenly couldn't wait any longer himself, giving a last little frission of teeth to Sam's hole before rising and positioning himself for one, long, never-slowing, sliding push into Sam. Sam keened, in gratitude or pleasure Dean wasn't sure but it didn't matter.
It wasn't going to take long for either of them now.
"Okay. Okay little brother, I got you," Dean chanted as he bottomed out and started to slide back out for another plunge. "Gonna take care of you now, Sammy."
Sam just grunted in reply, and Dean couldn't see his face but he knew that Sam's entire expression was squinched up in determination, nothing on his radar now but pure pleasure and the quickest path to it.
Dean stroked out long and slow, and back in deep and hard, Sam's back arching beneath him as their pace quickened.
"Dean, Christ," Sam panted. Dean gripped Sam's ass, hands spreading Sam open so he could watch where his cock slipped inside again and again, and how it tugged at the edges of Sam's hole as it pulled back out, pace quickening like wildfire. "Gonna come, gonna come now Dean, so close, so fucking…"
And it was the sound of them, really, that sent Dean over, just a moment after Sam. Not Sam's voice so much as the dirty wet noise they were making, the slick noise of him pushing into Sam, the smack when he bottomed out, the squelch of Dean's cock pulling back again, and how the whole thing got smoother once Dean's come slicked his strokes as well. Knowing that, knowing it was his come in Sam's ass that changed the sound of their fuck had him shuddering unsteadily through his last strokes.
"Sammy, god…" Dean didn't collapse on Sam, exactly. But he may have rested on Sam's back for just a few moments.
"Ugh," Sam complained. "Geddoff. You weigh more than Dumbo." Dean rolled to his back, panting and staring up at the underside of the canopy above them until Sam stirred, slipping from the bed.
"Hey. Where you going?" Whenever Dean topped, Sam usually spooned up beside him for a long while afterwards.
"Dude," Sam grinned down at him. "Did you see that bathroom? We have a bidet," he stage-whispered, "and I plan to use it. Could be the last time we get a chance at something like that."
Dean laughed.
"It's 24-karat gold plated, man. I'm pretty sure it's gonna be the last time."
Author: girlguidejones
Pairing/Rating: Dean/Sam, NC 17
Note: For salt_burn_porn, for the prompt "could be the last time". Written in the wee hours of the morning, completely in need of beta-ing and sadly lacking in it, but hey! I didn't pass!
Subject: Sam and Dean find themselves at Disney.
"Check it out."
Sam leaned over a little into Dean's personal space bubble and chin-pointed to the two little girls on the sidewalk. Normally Dean would object to such things (the leaning, not the chin-pointing) but he was feeling mellow. It had been a good day.
"Huh," Dean grunted in reply, lip-corners quirking up in amusement. Two little girls, maybe eight and five, if he had to guess, were plopped down cross-legged in the middle of the sidewalk. They were clearly Big Sis and Little Sis, the younger a damn-near carbon copy of the older, both with masses of dark curls and matching rainbow skirts. And-because this was Disneyworld-Mickey ears. The younger girl's were hot pink velvet, and her big sis's were desert-camo-sequined. Dean hadn't even realized there was such a thing.
When he was a kid they were all just black felt.
Their weary parents reclined on the bench across from the one Sam and Dean were sharing, all of them waiting for the ferry to take them back to the Boardwalk. Miraculously they were the only people there. Camo-Mickey wasn't what had caught Sam's attention, though it should have been because those ears were really kinda awesome. The girls were playing rock-paper-scissors to pass the time, but like kids do, they had apparently made their own version of it.
It looked typical, if you just glanced, but every third round or so the littlest girl would throw something that wasn't a rock, paper, or scissors. Sam started leaning over and whispering his guesses into Dean's ear.
"Tree," Sam said, his lips brushing the shell of Dean's ear. Little sis had opened her fist and wiggled her fingers in the air, and it did kinda look like a tree swaying in the wind. Another few standard-issue rounds went by before she flattened her palm, like you would paper, but held it on its edge, instead of horizontally. She then wriggled it toward her sister.
"Fish," Sam whispered again, his arm warm and solid on the bench behind Dean's shoulders. Big Sis kept throwing the standard three, taking her little sibling's variations in stride, sometimes declaring victory and sometimes relinquishing a round to her sister. Apparently it is commonly accepted knowledge that fish beats rock, because there weren't any arguments.
"Bunny rabbit," got Sam a scowl, because that one was pretty easy; even Dean recognized the hopping rabbit ears. (Scissors beats rabbit, and Dean's not entirely sure how that works out but the potential interpretations leave him queasy with a visionary flash of bloody rabbit skins.)
The ferry was pulling up now, parents urging the girls up and into position. But little sis had totally brought her A-game, saving her best for last. Her sister threw scissors one last time (Dean approved), but the tiny girl opposite her curled both hands, thumb-tips touching each other and pointing down, and fingers curved delicately in a heart above them.
Sam's chuckle was low and his breath gusted hot on the point of Dean's jaw.
"Love," he breathed, nosing just below Dean's ear as the family boarded the ferry ahead of them.
"Jeezus, Sammy, PDA much?" Dean shivered, shoving Sam away as they climbed aboard, but his brother crowded into the same bench with him anyway, even though there was a whole ferry's worth to choose from.
Bluffing their way through that Keys to the Kingdom tour was a bitch, but it got them access to where they needed to be, and the Disney people were quietly grateful to have their Haunted Mansion only pretend-haunted once again. Even better, they didn't mind showing it. The complimentary stay in the Steeplechase Suite was-at $3000/night-worth more than any job ever had ever paid them.
More than all the jobs had ever paid them, really. Put together.
The way Sam was coming onto him, Dean half-expected to be tackled the moment the door closed but instead he just bumped shoulders with Dean and held his hands out, fist on his open palm.
"Throw ya for first shower?" Sam said, grinning. Which was ridiculous, really, because this place had two full bathrooms, but they were so used to being in each other's space that they hadn't bothered with the second. Or the second bedroom either, for that matter.
Three fist pumps and out, but when Sam opened his hand that was definitely NOT a rock or scissors or paper. In fact, it was a little obscene. Dean goggled at him, but Sam just grinned back, and made ready to go again. Same result…a finger poking into a circle.
It was gonna take more than paper to cover that.
"Sammy, you dirty dog…" was all that Dean got out before Sam tackled him onto the giant four-poster. This time Dean nudged Sam, hands held out.
"O K" he signed into his palm, grinning, and that's all it took to get his brother's hands busy with other things. They shed clothes and boots, dislodging the towel-animals the maids had left from the bed. Dean was glad; he thought they were sort of creepy.
Sam knelt above him, eyes shining.
"What's gotten into you?" Dean laughed, hand wrapped around the back of Sam's thigh.
"I just…I remember," Sam said, "how we always just got each other, like we had our own language and it didn't matter if other people got it or not. It was ours."
"Yeah?" Dean asked, his hand now moving around to cup Sam's balls.
"Yeah," Sam gasped, hips jerking back, trying to get Dean's fingers closer to his hole.
"Well, I know what's mine," Dean grinned, and Sam laughed. "Your ass, baby brother."
Sam groaned, but it was just for show, since he dropped to his belly so fast it made Dean lightheaded. He humped the mattress a couple times before Dean got himself situated between Sam's legs, tongue delving deep into the cleft of Sam's ass. Then Sam had trouble deciding whether he wanted to grind into the bed or push himself back harder onto Dean's mouth.
Dean bathed Sam's hole with his tongue, over and over as Sam came apart beneath him, babbling about rocks and love and fish as Dean pushed a finger, then two, in beside his tongue.
"Gonna get you ready, Sammy. You're gonna be so ready I just slide in, so wet I don't even have to work it, you're gonna want it that bad, gonna be so slick...so open…"
Sam was frantic at that point, always the same when Dean got going on the dirty talk, ready to try or submit to anything when Dean got him that revved up. And Dean was pushing it for all he was worth, spitting directly onto Sam's tight furl and forcing both his thumbs into Sam, working him open.
"God…godfuckDean…" Sam groaned, ass pushing back into Dean's face.
"Pretty much," Dean answered cheerfully, tonguing the skin stretching ever wider around his thumbs. "Look how you open for me…pretty little slut-ass, waiting for my cock…"
"Dean…Dean please…m'ready," Sam begged. "So ready, c'mon. Please…" Sam's hand crept underneath his body, but Dean was having none of that.
"You put a hand on your cock and that's all you're gonna get tonight, is your own goddammed hand, I promise you that, Sammy," Dean threatened. Sam relented, groaning with frustration as he gave up.
"PleasegodDean, fuck me, c'mon…"
And that was enough. More than enough, really, because Dean suddenly couldn't wait any longer himself, giving a last little frission of teeth to Sam's hole before rising and positioning himself for one, long, never-slowing, sliding push into Sam. Sam keened, in gratitude or pleasure Dean wasn't sure but it didn't matter.
It wasn't going to take long for either of them now.
"Okay. Okay little brother, I got you," Dean chanted as he bottomed out and started to slide back out for another plunge. "Gonna take care of you now, Sammy."
Sam just grunted in reply, and Dean couldn't see his face but he knew that Sam's entire expression was squinched up in determination, nothing on his radar now but pure pleasure and the quickest path to it.
Dean stroked out long and slow, and back in deep and hard, Sam's back arching beneath him as their pace quickened.
"Dean, Christ," Sam panted. Dean gripped Sam's ass, hands spreading Sam open so he could watch where his cock slipped inside again and again, and how it tugged at the edges of Sam's hole as it pulled back out, pace quickening like wildfire. "Gonna come, gonna come now Dean, so close, so fucking…"
And it was the sound of them, really, that sent Dean over, just a moment after Sam. Not Sam's voice so much as the dirty wet noise they were making, the slick noise of him pushing into Sam, the smack when he bottomed out, the squelch of Dean's cock pulling back again, and how the whole thing got smoother once Dean's come slicked his strokes as well. Knowing that, knowing it was his come in Sam's ass that changed the sound of their fuck had him shuddering unsteadily through his last strokes.
"Sammy, god…" Dean didn't collapse on Sam, exactly. But he may have rested on Sam's back for just a few moments.
"Ugh," Sam complained. "Geddoff. You weigh more than Dumbo." Dean rolled to his back, panting and staring up at the underside of the canopy above them until Sam stirred, slipping from the bed.
"Hey. Where you going?" Whenever Dean topped, Sam usually spooned up beside him for a long while afterwards.
"Dude," Sam grinned down at him. "Did you see that bathroom? We have a bidet," he stage-whispered, "and I plan to use it. Could be the last time we get a chance at something like that."
Dean laughed.
"It's 24-karat gold plated, man. I'm pretty sure it's gonna be the last time."