What? Soul or Not, That's Kinky
Title: What? Soul or Not, That's Kinky
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: Nc-17
Warnings: Dirty talk, bottom!dean/top-soulless!sam, wall/sink-sex, slight dub-con
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 1,763
Summary: Sam wants to fuck Dean, and now there's no pesky little soul getting in the way with its morals.
Sam watched his brother walk away towards the bathroom. He couldn’t help it, really; the way Dean swayed his hips, his bowlegs giving him that swagger that anyone else would kill for. Fuck it Sam thought as he stood from his seat. Fuck waiting and fuck his morals, he didn’t have a soul so, go crazy, right? Sam stood and followed his brother into the bathroom, which was complete with two stalls and a sink.
Sam locked the door behind him and stalked towards Dean, who had turned around when he heard the door lock. Sam stalked towards his brother, eyes set like a predator with its prey in sight.
“Gotta hit the head, too, eh?” Dean said, unzipping his pants and turning towards one of the urinals.
“Not exactly,” Sam growled, grabbing Dean by the shoulders, pulling him into a harsh kiss. Dean pushed against Sam’s shoulders, trying to get his little brother off of him. He shouldn’t be doing this, no matter how much he wanted to, because this was Sam; his little Sammy, whose diapers he changed and cereal he fixed up for breakfast. It was wrong and twisted and perverted, but the more Sam tightened his grip in Dean’s hair and the more he tried to get Dean to submit to his mouth, the more Dean’s voice of consciousness was thrown to the wind. He finally just thought to hell with it all and let his jaw slack, granting Sam the access he was begging for.
“Yeah, that’s right, Dean,” Sam grunted. He moved Dean away from the urinals and slammed him against the wall next to the sink. He let his hands roam and reached down to cup Dean’s ass. His brother groaned and Sam tightened the grip of the hand that was still in Dean’s hair. Dean whimpered and bucked his hips forward, his open belt jingling like Christmas bells. Sam smirked and wrenched Dean’s head back, exposing Dean’s tan neck. Sam groaned as he licked a large stripe up Dean’s jugular vein.
“God, Sammy…” Dean whimpered. He fisted his hands into the side of Sam’s FED suit, pulling them closer. Sam smiled against Dean’s neck, biting hard at the nape of his neck, and then licking at the tortured flesh. Dean arched into the bite, moaning out Sam’s name.
“Fuck, Dean. Fucking like that, don’t you. You’ll just take anything I dish out, huh?” Sam taunted. Dean nodded violently, wincing at the pain because Sam’s large hand was still tangled in his short locks. Sam smirked and let go of Dean’s hair and Dean let his head rest on Sam’s shoulder. Sam moved his hands down and gripped Dean under the ass, hauling him up onto his hips and carrying him quickly to the sink, where he sat him on the edge, pulling Dean’s pants down to his ankles.
Dean let out a grunt as he was roughly placed on the edge of the porcelain sink. He balanced himself with two hands behind him, leaning back and letting Sam tear his slacks from his legs. When Sam stood up straight again, he locked eyes with Dean as he undid his own pants.
“I’m gonna fuck you up against the sink, just like the bitch you are, and you’re gonna love every second of it,” Sam practically growled. Dean whimpered and nodded his head, his irises being taken over by pupils as he was consumed in lust for his little brother.
“God, yes, Sammy, please!” Dean begged. He couldn’t wait to feel Sam fill him up. Sam smirked and slipped his pants down his legs, freeing his bobbing erection. Dean’s cock gave an interested twitch at the sight. Sam jacked himself off a few times, enjoying the sensation. He raised his left hand to Dean’s mouth.
“Suck,” he commanded. Dean moved forward without hesitation and drew Sam’s fingers into his mouth. His tongue danced between the three digits, coating each with his saliva. When Sam thought it was good enough, he pulled his fingers from Dean’s mouth, leaving his lips glossy and swollen. Dean followed Sam’s hand as it trailed down his thigh and slid around to his backside, where Sam ran a moist finger passed the quivering pucker of muscle. Dean’s entire body jerked up at the sensitive touch. He whined low in his throat, and when Sam ran his finger passed his hole again, Dean tried to push down on him, beckoning Sam to enter his body. Sam smirked. “What, Dean?” Dean moaned.
“God, Sam, please!” Dean moaned. He kept pushing down on Sam’s now stilled finger, but with every push down, Sam moved his hand down too, not allowing Dean to get the release he was looking for.
“What do you want, Dean? I’m not a mind reader,” Sam teased. He knew Dean was on the verge of incoherency, but he wanted to see just how far Dean would go before he was keening for Sam to fuck him. Apparently it wouldn’t take long, as within seconds, Dean was moaning out Sam’s name.
“God, Sam, please, fuck me. Please, I need to feel you inside me now. Need your fingers, stretch me, please!” Dean was begging for it, and Sam complied, shoving two fingers straight up into Dean, who cried out in pleasure. He fucked himself back down onto Sam’s long fingers, mewling and whimpering and letting strands of god, Sam, so fucking good and get deeper into me Sam, goddam. Sam just smirked and crushed his mouth to Dean’s, shutting him up with his tongue.
Once Dean had loosened up a bit Sam added another finger, stretching Dean a bit more. It wouldn’t be enough for Dean to take Sam without any pain whatsoever, but Sam wanted Dean to be tight around his cock, so he could endure a little pain.
Dean repositioned his hands on the edge of the sink. He kept his heels dug into the back of Sam’s thigh, and with each thrust into his ass with Sam’s hand, he let out a little grunt, loving the feeling of how Sam scissored him open with an expertise that made Dean wonder how many times Sam had done this before. That thought was driven out of his head as Sam withdrew his fingers, the empty cold hitting him hard, making him whimper at the loss. Sam scoffed.
“Damn, Dean, whimpering for me like a bitch in heat. It’s kind of sexy on you, you know that?” Sam smirked as jacked himself off a few more times before he put a large hand on Dean’s thigh, dragging him forward and almost pulling him off the edge of the sink. The only thing holding Dean off the ground was the small of his back rested against the sink and his legs wrapped around Sam’s waist. Sam smiled as lined himself up and pushed into Dean, forcing his way passed the first tight ring of muscle that wasn’t entirely stretched. Dean’s breathing hitched and he choked on a mewl as Sam bottomed out. He didn’t give Dean a chance to recover before he was pulling out until the head of his cock was barely embedded in Dean then slamming back again. Dean was rammed up with the force of Sam’s thrusts, and he was sure that he was going to have some interesting bruises on his back when this whole ordeal was over, but he really couldn’t be bothered with that at the time, because now Sam’s hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, blocking his upcoming orgasm.
“God, Sammy, please…” Dean trailed off when Sam slammed up into him again. Dean let his eyes fall shut and his head lolled back, hitting the mirror above the sink with a hollow thud. Dean was bucking his hips upward, even though he knew he wasn’t going to find friction. It had become a subconscious thing by this point, only trying to get off. Sam smiled deviously before he leant in and sucked a bruise into the soft spot behind Dean’s ear, trailing the kisses down his neck until he reached his nipple. He brought it into his mouth and ran his tongue around the growing bud. Once it was raised, Sam took it between his teeth and lightly pulled, causing Dean to arch his back, crying out in overstimulation.
“Getting close, Dean?” Sam questioned evilly. Dean was writing on the sink, knuckles turned white from the grip they had on the edges to prevent from falling.
“Fuck, Sammy, so fucking close,” Dean gasped. Sam smirked and leaned in, hips still thrusting in an erratic rhythm. Sam planted an open-mouthed kiss to Dean’s mouth and when he pulled away, he whispered against Dean’s lips.
“Then come for me, I wanna hear you scream my name.” Sam released his hold on the base of Dean’s cock and began to stroke him quickly, changing the angle of his thrusts so he would hit Dean’s prostate with each thrust. Dean’s mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back in his head as his whole world went white around the edges and he came to a peak, shooting his release in hot ropes all over Sam’s hand and his own FED jacket. Dean clenched around Sam’s throbbing cock, his heels digging into the back of Sam’s thigh, and a hand coming up to rest on Sam’s shoulder. The pressure around Sam was too much and he came with a grunt and clenched eyes, filling his brother with his release. He pumped his hips through his orgasm, stopping and pulling out when his cock had finally began to soften. Dean groaned as his feet hit the floor when Sam moved back. He stood upright for a moment before slumping against a wall and slowly sinking to the floor, his pants still around his ankles. Sam looked down at him with lidded eyes and a satisfied expression.
“Clean up, Dean,” Sam said, working on tucking in the excess of his shirt into his pants. “We’re still working a case.” With that, Sam pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser and wiped his hand free of Dean’s seed, balling up the soiled paper up and tossing it into the trash bin before he unlocked the door and walked out.
Dean stood and locked the door. When he returned to the mirror, he looked at himself. He still wasn’t sure what was wrong with his brother, but if Sam made this a regular thing, Dean was really pretty sure he could live with it. He began cleaning off, smiling to himself.
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: Nc-17
Warnings: Dirty talk, bottom!dean/top-soulless!sam, wall/sink-sex, slight dub-con
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 1,763
Summary: Sam wants to fuck Dean, and now there's no pesky little soul getting in the way with its morals.
Sam watched his brother walk away towards the bathroom. He couldn’t help it, really; the way Dean swayed his hips, his bowlegs giving him that swagger that anyone else would kill for. Fuck it Sam thought as he stood from his seat. Fuck waiting and fuck his morals, he didn’t have a soul so, go crazy, right? Sam stood and followed his brother into the bathroom, which was complete with two stalls and a sink.
Sam locked the door behind him and stalked towards Dean, who had turned around when he heard the door lock. Sam stalked towards his brother, eyes set like a predator with its prey in sight.
“Gotta hit the head, too, eh?” Dean said, unzipping his pants and turning towards one of the urinals.
“Not exactly,” Sam growled, grabbing Dean by the shoulders, pulling him into a harsh kiss. Dean pushed against Sam’s shoulders, trying to get his little brother off of him. He shouldn’t be doing this, no matter how much he wanted to, because this was Sam; his little Sammy, whose diapers he changed and cereal he fixed up for breakfast. It was wrong and twisted and perverted, but the more Sam tightened his grip in Dean’s hair and the more he tried to get Dean to submit to his mouth, the more Dean’s voice of consciousness was thrown to the wind. He finally just thought to hell with it all and let his jaw slack, granting Sam the access he was begging for.
“Yeah, that’s right, Dean,” Sam grunted. He moved Dean away from the urinals and slammed him against the wall next to the sink. He let his hands roam and reached down to cup Dean’s ass. His brother groaned and Sam tightened the grip of the hand that was still in Dean’s hair. Dean whimpered and bucked his hips forward, his open belt jingling like Christmas bells. Sam smirked and wrenched Dean’s head back, exposing Dean’s tan neck. Sam groaned as he licked a large stripe up Dean’s jugular vein.
“God, Sammy…” Dean whimpered. He fisted his hands into the side of Sam’s FED suit, pulling them closer. Sam smiled against Dean’s neck, biting hard at the nape of his neck, and then licking at the tortured flesh. Dean arched into the bite, moaning out Sam’s name.
“Fuck, Dean. Fucking like that, don’t you. You’ll just take anything I dish out, huh?” Sam taunted. Dean nodded violently, wincing at the pain because Sam’s large hand was still tangled in his short locks. Sam smirked and let go of Dean’s hair and Dean let his head rest on Sam’s shoulder. Sam moved his hands down and gripped Dean under the ass, hauling him up onto his hips and carrying him quickly to the sink, where he sat him on the edge, pulling Dean’s pants down to his ankles.
Dean let out a grunt as he was roughly placed on the edge of the porcelain sink. He balanced himself with two hands behind him, leaning back and letting Sam tear his slacks from his legs. When Sam stood up straight again, he locked eyes with Dean as he undid his own pants.
“I’m gonna fuck you up against the sink, just like the bitch you are, and you’re gonna love every second of it,” Sam practically growled. Dean whimpered and nodded his head, his irises being taken over by pupils as he was consumed in lust for his little brother.
“God, yes, Sammy, please!” Dean begged. He couldn’t wait to feel Sam fill him up. Sam smirked and slipped his pants down his legs, freeing his bobbing erection. Dean’s cock gave an interested twitch at the sight. Sam jacked himself off a few times, enjoying the sensation. He raised his left hand to Dean’s mouth.
“Suck,” he commanded. Dean moved forward without hesitation and drew Sam’s fingers into his mouth. His tongue danced between the three digits, coating each with his saliva. When Sam thought it was good enough, he pulled his fingers from Dean’s mouth, leaving his lips glossy and swollen. Dean followed Sam’s hand as it trailed down his thigh and slid around to his backside, where Sam ran a moist finger passed the quivering pucker of muscle. Dean’s entire body jerked up at the sensitive touch. He whined low in his throat, and when Sam ran his finger passed his hole again, Dean tried to push down on him, beckoning Sam to enter his body. Sam smirked. “What, Dean?” Dean moaned.
“God, Sam, please!” Dean moaned. He kept pushing down on Sam’s now stilled finger, but with every push down, Sam moved his hand down too, not allowing Dean to get the release he was looking for.
“What do you want, Dean? I’m not a mind reader,” Sam teased. He knew Dean was on the verge of incoherency, but he wanted to see just how far Dean would go before he was keening for Sam to fuck him. Apparently it wouldn’t take long, as within seconds, Dean was moaning out Sam’s name.
“God, Sam, please, fuck me. Please, I need to feel you inside me now. Need your fingers, stretch me, please!” Dean was begging for it, and Sam complied, shoving two fingers straight up into Dean, who cried out in pleasure. He fucked himself back down onto Sam’s long fingers, mewling and whimpering and letting strands of god, Sam, so fucking good and get deeper into me Sam, goddam. Sam just smirked and crushed his mouth to Dean’s, shutting him up with his tongue.
Once Dean had loosened up a bit Sam added another finger, stretching Dean a bit more. It wouldn’t be enough for Dean to take Sam without any pain whatsoever, but Sam wanted Dean to be tight around his cock, so he could endure a little pain.
Dean repositioned his hands on the edge of the sink. He kept his heels dug into the back of Sam’s thigh, and with each thrust into his ass with Sam’s hand, he let out a little grunt, loving the feeling of how Sam scissored him open with an expertise that made Dean wonder how many times Sam had done this before. That thought was driven out of his head as Sam withdrew his fingers, the empty cold hitting him hard, making him whimper at the loss. Sam scoffed.
“Damn, Dean, whimpering for me like a bitch in heat. It’s kind of sexy on you, you know that?” Sam smirked as jacked himself off a few more times before he put a large hand on Dean’s thigh, dragging him forward and almost pulling him off the edge of the sink. The only thing holding Dean off the ground was the small of his back rested against the sink and his legs wrapped around Sam’s waist. Sam smiled as lined himself up and pushed into Dean, forcing his way passed the first tight ring of muscle that wasn’t entirely stretched. Dean’s breathing hitched and he choked on a mewl as Sam bottomed out. He didn’t give Dean a chance to recover before he was pulling out until the head of his cock was barely embedded in Dean then slamming back again. Dean was rammed up with the force of Sam’s thrusts, and he was sure that he was going to have some interesting bruises on his back when this whole ordeal was over, but he really couldn’t be bothered with that at the time, because now Sam’s hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, blocking his upcoming orgasm.
“God, Sammy, please…” Dean trailed off when Sam slammed up into him again. Dean let his eyes fall shut and his head lolled back, hitting the mirror above the sink with a hollow thud. Dean was bucking his hips upward, even though he knew he wasn’t going to find friction. It had become a subconscious thing by this point, only trying to get off. Sam smiled deviously before he leant in and sucked a bruise into the soft spot behind Dean’s ear, trailing the kisses down his neck until he reached his nipple. He brought it into his mouth and ran his tongue around the growing bud. Once it was raised, Sam took it between his teeth and lightly pulled, causing Dean to arch his back, crying out in overstimulation.
“Getting close, Dean?” Sam questioned evilly. Dean was writing on the sink, knuckles turned white from the grip they had on the edges to prevent from falling.
“Fuck, Sammy, so fucking close,” Dean gasped. Sam smirked and leaned in, hips still thrusting in an erratic rhythm. Sam planted an open-mouthed kiss to Dean’s mouth and when he pulled away, he whispered against Dean’s lips.
“Then come for me, I wanna hear you scream my name.” Sam released his hold on the base of Dean’s cock and began to stroke him quickly, changing the angle of his thrusts so he would hit Dean’s prostate with each thrust. Dean’s mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back in his head as his whole world went white around the edges and he came to a peak, shooting his release in hot ropes all over Sam’s hand and his own FED jacket. Dean clenched around Sam’s throbbing cock, his heels digging into the back of Sam’s thigh, and a hand coming up to rest on Sam’s shoulder. The pressure around Sam was too much and he came with a grunt and clenched eyes, filling his brother with his release. He pumped his hips through his orgasm, stopping and pulling out when his cock had finally began to soften. Dean groaned as his feet hit the floor when Sam moved back. He stood upright for a moment before slumping against a wall and slowly sinking to the floor, his pants still around his ankles. Sam looked down at him with lidded eyes and a satisfied expression.
“Clean up, Dean,” Sam said, working on tucking in the excess of his shirt into his pants. “We’re still working a case.” With that, Sam pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser and wiped his hand free of Dean’s seed, balling up the soiled paper up and tossing it into the trash bin before he unlocked the door and walked out.
Dean stood and locked the door. When he returned to the mirror, he looked at himself. He still wasn’t sure what was wrong with his brother, but if Sam made this a regular thing, Dean was really pretty sure he could live with it. He began cleaning off, smiling to himself.