Fic: Curiosity killed the cat ... (SPN, Sam/Dean, NC-17)
So after talking to her about stop_drop_porn for Due South fandom, brynwulf decided to start a Supernatural version. Of course, she figured I should go first and I kindly agreed. Here's a little something to launch salt_burn_porn. Come join the comm and get in on the next challenge down the road.
Title: Curiosity killed the cat, but Dean came in my hand
Author: Moosesal
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean, with references to Sam/OMC
Prompt: nipple rings
Warning: Umm... incest, in case you missed the pairing. And perhaps a little too much dialog for porn, but I can't seem to help it.
“Dude. That guy had his nipples pierced.” Dean jerked his thumb over his shoulder as they walked out the door and hit the sidewalk.
Sam glanced over and laughed at the shocked look on Dean’s face. “So? What were you doing looking at his nipples?” He waggled his eyebrows and grinned.
Dean’s shocked expression turned into a glare. “They were kind of hard to miss, what with the mesh shirt and the big silver rings trying to poke through.”
Sam just laughed more and shrugged. “It was your idea to go in there.”
“I just wanted a beer.”
“Did you miss the big rainbow flag in the window?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m not some stupid homophobe, Sammy. I’ve been in gay bars before. It’s just a bar with fewer chicks, no big deal, I just don’t want to see nipples in the middle of the afternoon anywhere. I figured we’d grab a beer, watch a bit of the game and then the next thing I know … nipple rings.” He shivered like he’d caught a chill or something.
Sam shrugged at him. “I think they’re kinda hot.”
“Hot?”
This time when Sam looked over Dean wasn’t there. He was a few paces behind him on the sidewalk, frozen in place. Sam just raised his eyebrows in question and Dean started walking again.
***
Three hours later they were sitting in a chain restaurant, eating a crappy dinner, and discussing the case they were investigating when all of a sudden Dean blurted out, “You really think they’re hot?”
At Sam’s blank expression, Dean clarified, “Nipple rings. You think they’re hot?”
“Jesus, Dean. Get over it.”
“I’m just …”
“Look, I’ve seen a few that looked good okay? Can we move on now?”
“On who?”
“What?”
“Who have you seen with nipple rings?”
“Just someone a Stanford.”
“Someone?”
Sam sighed and figured he might as well spit it out; Dean wasn’t likely to give up on this anytime soon. “This guy I knew. He had them pierced. Thick silver rings that looked really good against his skin.”
Dean’s eyes widened and he chugged half his beer as Sam watched the wheels in his head turning. He finally set the bottle down and said, “A guy?”
“Yeah. A guy.”
“Were you two…” Dean waved his hand in the air -- universal straight guy sign language.
“Yeah.”
“Shit.” Dean didn’t say anything else for the rest of the meal.
***
Sam was almost asleep when Dean whispered, “Were they sensitive? I’ve heard piercing them makes them more sensitive.”
Sam didn’t know whether to scream or weep or what, so he settled on a deep breath and an honest answer. “Yeah. He came once just from me licking them and tugging on the ring with my teeth.”
“Fuck,” Dean groaned.
Sam rolled over to face him across the space between their beds. In the moonlight filtering through the cheap blinds he could see that the sheet was pushed down. Dean had one hand on his crotch - his cock visibly hard through his boxers -- and the other on his chest, fingertips grazing over a nipple.
“Dean?” The name so soft from his lips, he could barely hear it himself. Dean turned his head and their eyes met.
“I -“ he didn’t have to say anything else, it was all in his look. Something they hadn’t done in years, since they were teenagers with raging hormones and no privacy.
Sam nodded slightly and pushed his own sheet down and reached for his own cock, already half-hard from memories of college and … earlier. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts run free.
“I used to suck on them while I had my fingers inside him, getting him ready. God he was so tight, but he’d open right up when I started teasing his nipples.”
Dean groaned and Sam could hear him fisting his cock. He wanted to look, but couldn’t; it wasn’t like that between them. Looking would make it different, make it wrong. He suppressed a laugh at that. Wrong? He was talking to his brother about sex while they both beat off.
He turned his head and looked.
“He liked to fuck face-to-face. We did it once with him on my lap, straddling me on my desk chair. I was holding his hips, guiding him as he moved up and down and then he arched his back and those rings … God. I slid one of my hands up his side and slipped the tip of my finger inside one and started pulling a little and then he arched away from me, pulling hard against me.”
Sam was fisting his own cock hard and fast now. Dean had moved his hand from his cock and was playing with both nipples, his hips pushing up in the air, pressing up against an invisible body.
“He kept fucking himself harder on my cock and shifting to pull the ring tighter. I thought he was going to hurt himself, but then he was coming all over his stomach and my chest and his ass was clenching tight around me and … fuck--” Sam’s orgasm took him by surprise and he lay there, his words lost, gasping for breath.
“Sam.” Dean was panting, his hips still twitching and thrusting up. Before Sam could take the time to think about his actions, he’d rolled from his bed and was kneeling astride Dean’s thighs. He wrapped his long fingers around Dean’s cock and started stroking him, slow and steady.
“Shh, Dean.” Dean thrust up into his fist and Sam pressed his free hand to his brother’s hip, pushing him down against the bed. “Easy, man. I got you.” He stroked him a little harder, a little faster, and let his hand slide from Dean’s hip up his belly to his chest. He pushed aside one of Dean’s hands and leaned down.
He ran his tongue lightly over Dean’s nipple, then sucked gently. Dean whimpered and jerked into Sam’s fist faster. When Sam bit gently with his teeth, Dean groaned and came all over Sam’s hand. Sam sat up and stared down at his brother who lay on the bed with his eyes closed as the aftershocks rippled through him. Slowly his breath slowed and he opened his eyes to look up at Sam. “Fuck. That was …”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. Fuck. That was wrong. Fuck. That was good. Fuck. Let’s do that again.
The End.
I tag marishna with the prompt "ink".
Title: Curiosity killed the cat, but Dean came in my hand
Author: Moosesal
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean, with references to Sam/OMC
Prompt: nipple rings
Warning: Umm... incest, in case you missed the pairing. And perhaps a little too much dialog for porn, but I can't seem to help it.
“Dude. That guy had his nipples pierced.” Dean jerked his thumb over his shoulder as they walked out the door and hit the sidewalk.
Sam glanced over and laughed at the shocked look on Dean’s face. “So? What were you doing looking at his nipples?” He waggled his eyebrows and grinned.
Dean’s shocked expression turned into a glare. “They were kind of hard to miss, what with the mesh shirt and the big silver rings trying to poke through.”
Sam just laughed more and shrugged. “It was your idea to go in there.”
“I just wanted a beer.”
“Did you miss the big rainbow flag in the window?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m not some stupid homophobe, Sammy. I’ve been in gay bars before. It’s just a bar with fewer chicks, no big deal, I just don’t want to see nipples in the middle of the afternoon anywhere. I figured we’d grab a beer, watch a bit of the game and then the next thing I know … nipple rings.” He shivered like he’d caught a chill or something.
Sam shrugged at him. “I think they’re kinda hot.”
“Hot?”
This time when Sam looked over Dean wasn’t there. He was a few paces behind him on the sidewalk, frozen in place. Sam just raised his eyebrows in question and Dean started walking again.
***
Three hours later they were sitting in a chain restaurant, eating a crappy dinner, and discussing the case they were investigating when all of a sudden Dean blurted out, “You really think they’re hot?”
At Sam’s blank expression, Dean clarified, “Nipple rings. You think they’re hot?”
“Jesus, Dean. Get over it.”
“I’m just …”
“Look, I’ve seen a few that looked good okay? Can we move on now?”
“On who?”
“What?”
“Who have you seen with nipple rings?”
“Just someone a Stanford.”
“Someone?”
Sam sighed and figured he might as well spit it out; Dean wasn’t likely to give up on this anytime soon. “This guy I knew. He had them pierced. Thick silver rings that looked really good against his skin.”
Dean’s eyes widened and he chugged half his beer as Sam watched the wheels in his head turning. He finally set the bottle down and said, “A guy?”
“Yeah. A guy.”
“Were you two…” Dean waved his hand in the air -- universal straight guy sign language.
“Yeah.”
“Shit.” Dean didn’t say anything else for the rest of the meal.
***
Sam was almost asleep when Dean whispered, “Were they sensitive? I’ve heard piercing them makes them more sensitive.”
Sam didn’t know whether to scream or weep or what, so he settled on a deep breath and an honest answer. “Yeah. He came once just from me licking them and tugging on the ring with my teeth.”
“Fuck,” Dean groaned.
Sam rolled over to face him across the space between their beds. In the moonlight filtering through the cheap blinds he could see that the sheet was pushed down. Dean had one hand on his crotch - his cock visibly hard through his boxers -- and the other on his chest, fingertips grazing over a nipple.
“Dean?” The name so soft from his lips, he could barely hear it himself. Dean turned his head and their eyes met.
“I -“ he didn’t have to say anything else, it was all in his look. Something they hadn’t done in years, since they were teenagers with raging hormones and no privacy.
Sam nodded slightly and pushed his own sheet down and reached for his own cock, already half-hard from memories of college and … earlier. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts run free.
“I used to suck on them while I had my fingers inside him, getting him ready. God he was so tight, but he’d open right up when I started teasing his nipples.”
Dean groaned and Sam could hear him fisting his cock. He wanted to look, but couldn’t; it wasn’t like that between them. Looking would make it different, make it wrong. He suppressed a laugh at that. Wrong? He was talking to his brother about sex while they both beat off.
He turned his head and looked.
“He liked to fuck face-to-face. We did it once with him on my lap, straddling me on my desk chair. I was holding his hips, guiding him as he moved up and down and then he arched his back and those rings … God. I slid one of my hands up his side and slipped the tip of my finger inside one and started pulling a little and then he arched away from me, pulling hard against me.”
Sam was fisting his own cock hard and fast now. Dean had moved his hand from his cock and was playing with both nipples, his hips pushing up in the air, pressing up against an invisible body.
“He kept fucking himself harder on my cock and shifting to pull the ring tighter. I thought he was going to hurt himself, but then he was coming all over his stomach and my chest and his ass was clenching tight around me and … fuck--” Sam’s orgasm took him by surprise and he lay there, his words lost, gasping for breath.
“Sam.” Dean was panting, his hips still twitching and thrusting up. Before Sam could take the time to think about his actions, he’d rolled from his bed and was kneeling astride Dean’s thighs. He wrapped his long fingers around Dean’s cock and started stroking him, slow and steady.
“Shh, Dean.” Dean thrust up into his fist and Sam pressed his free hand to his brother’s hip, pushing him down against the bed. “Easy, man. I got you.” He stroked him a little harder, a little faster, and let his hand slide from Dean’s hip up his belly to his chest. He pushed aside one of Dean’s hands and leaned down.
He ran his tongue lightly over Dean’s nipple, then sucked gently. Dean whimpered and jerked into Sam’s fist faster. When Sam bit gently with his teeth, Dean groaned and came all over Sam’s hand. Sam sat up and stared down at his brother who lay on the bed with his eyes closed as the aftershocks rippled through him. Slowly his breath slowed and he opened his eyes to look up at Sam. “Fuck. That was …”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. Fuck. That was wrong. Fuck. That was good. Fuck. Let’s do that again.
The End.
I tag marishna with the prompt "ink".