"Sam..." Dean started, frowning. "But you're not him. Vessel or not, you're you. Having black wings doesn't make you Lucifer anymore than being his vessel does," he said with a sigh. He kept up the motion with his hands though, massaging against the base of the wings and along their arches.
"And I can tell that you don't. I don't wanna take pleasure in something that you don't like," he said quietly, because that remined him of the bruises and the scarring and he wasn't like that. Wasn't someone that would do something to someone if they didn't like it. Well, anyone innocent, let's say. Cause he wouldn't mind doing a whole lotta bad things to demons with salt and holy water they would undoubtedly not like.
"Dean, I'm asking you for this," he said, not losing the eye contact with his brother. "When you touch them, it feels fantastic." And that wasn't a lie. His brother's hands on the wings felt amazing in a way he honestly couldn't put into words. He slowly unfurled his wings, trying to show he wasn't ashamed.
"Okay, Sammy," he said quietly, nodding. "Why don't you lay down on the bed so I can get at 'em better." Dean wasn't going to lie, he was kind of excited about this and a part of him hated that he was, because he knew Sam didn't like them.
Sam obeyed instantly, laying out on his stomach. He let his wings relax, filling the width of the bed and hanging a bit off the edges. He had no idea what his brother had in mind, but knowing Dean, it would be awesome.
"Good boy," he murmured and then moved up onto the bed to straddle his brother's ass and thighs. Seriously, it was kind of awesome, the way the wings were spread out in front of him, large and frightening in their width and length. And they rustled slightly with his brother's nerves and smiling a little he reached out to pet them tenderly. Running his fingers down the feathers and along the arches, gently massaging the velvety bony structure.
Sam groaned softly, resting his head on his folded arms as his wings arched up into the gentle touch. He loved any excuse to have his brother's hands on him, and if Dean liked his wings, then Sam would never deny his request to touch them. His own dislike of the new appendages didn't matter to him.
"I beg to differ, when I have you on your hands and knees in front of me," he said lowly, smirking a little as he ran his fingers along the bony structure, all the way down to the base of the wings where they meet his back and from there he massaged outward, knowing the weight of them had to be making Sam's back and shoulder muscles sore.
Sam whimpered softly at the mental image. He loved whenever he and Dean were together, but when his brother took him from behind like he couldn't control himself....that was hotter than pretty much anything.
The massage felt fantastic, and the little keens and moans he gave Dean were more than enough to prove it.
He grinned at the sounds his brother as making and could tell that he was slowly starting to relax, but knew it would take awhile yet. Leaning in he nibbled gently over the arch in Sam's wings, letting his tongue graze the soft, fuzzy surface. And when he spoke his voice was a little soft and rough.
"You know, I wonder if you'd feel it if I jacked off and came all over your wings."
Sam shuddered at the very thought, white ropes of his brother's come staining his black feathers. He was sure he'd feel it with how sensitive his wings were, and now he wanted to.
"You like them that much?" he asked, a bit surprised.
"Sure I do, Sammy," he said without hesitation or thought, hands sliding up Sam's back, massaging the muscles there as well as in his shoulders, then slid his hands through Sam's wings, burying them into the soft downy feathers, gently gripping and stugging.
Sam gave a soft cry at the tugging, wings twitching in excitement. He wanted that now. He wanted to feel his brother's come staining his skin and feathers.
"God, I love it when you beg," he murmured softly, soothing his fingers over the wings he'd pulled, because it no doubt would hurt if he tugged too hard and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Sam's beautiful black wings. "What do you want, Sammy? Huh? Gotta tell your big brother what you need." Jesus, he was hard just thinking about staining his brother's black wings white and the way Sam responded when he'd tugged his wings -- so he did it again, and when he did he ground forward against his brother's ass
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"I wish I knew what else to do."
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"You know what else you can do?" he asked, meeting his brother's stunningly green eyes. "Distract me. I can tell you like them, Dean."
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"Not a dog, De," he smiled.
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The massage felt fantastic, and the little keens and moans he gave Dean were more than enough to prove it.
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"You know, I wonder if you'd feel it if I jacked off and came all over your wings."
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"You like them that much?" he asked, a bit surprised.
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"They're yours."
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"De, please," he murmured.
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