[fic] skeletncloset: Feel Like You Do
[ Dean/Benny ]
Title: Feel Like You Do
Writer: skeletncloset
Status of work: Complete
Characters and/or pairings: Dean/Benny. it's complicated? John/Dean UST, background Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings, kinks & contents:[Click to read]Angst. Umm, that's it I think. Oh, and incest if it isn't obvious, allusions to underage prostitution. Daddy issues.
Length: 1,700
Summary: Dean doesn’t beg, even when he wants to, even less when he should.
Reccer's notes: First off, this girl can write. Her pen is like a razor blade creating these sharp, visceral images. I don't think I've ever seen anyone write Dean/Benny like she does, immediate, gripping, yearning. I hurt when I read how she writes them, it feels like I'm right there with every hurt, every desire Dean is experiencing. Her Benny is vast as the sea, calm and wise, understanding; giving Dean what he needs when he doesn't even know what that is himself.
[Short excerpt]Dean’s lip splits and bleeds into Benny’s mouth--his knee in Benny’s grip. Benny opens him wider, holding him down and keeping him open with his dick. And it’s more vulgar than it should be, half-clothed as Dean is, leather jacket under him and his shirt hiked up under his arms. It’s deep. Deeper this way, Dean on his side and Benny straddling his thigh, pushing Dean’s leg far enough Dean felt his own knee touch his ear once or twice.
And really, it’s all part of the same thing, getting fucked and fucking shit up. Links in a chain he’s been dragging around his whole life. It’s not like he can help it. It’s just something Dean does. Like breathing, eating, drinking. Like keeping Sammy safe and fed. Something that has always felt natural to Dean.
Benny gets him. Never taking more than Dean readily gives. Reading him in a way only predators can, looking for weakness, except Benny doesn’t exploit it like he should, just skirts around Dean’s issues and leaves Dean a little breathless and wound up, looking for a catch in this agreement they have going on. Dean doesn’t know what to make of it.