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runedgirlTitle: Fade To Black (Not While Your Hand’s In Mine) Ch 11/18
Author: runedgirl
Rating: NC17 – lots of SEX in this chapter, if that’s a warning
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/demon!Dean
Summary: The brother that Sam gets back isn’t the same, but Sam’s love is. Sam risks everything and leaves everyone he’s ever cared about behind in the desperate hope that the bond between him and Dean might just be strong enough to transcend what hell did to his brother.
Set post Season 3, seven months after Dean’s deal came due and written over the summer before it was AU, this story just kept writing itself and wouldn’t let go until it was an epic love story in every sense, eventually spanning five decades with enough twists and turns to make me dizzy.
Warning: Spoilers for S3 finale; violence; Wincest (obviously)
Beta: My other half and my sexyboy – mwah!
AN: Not a WIP – story is finished with 18 chapters and will be posted regularly.
So suddenly this story seems to be right in line with Kripke’s thinking – how weird is that? Sam comes to a big decision in this chapter, and things take yet another twisty turn
Chapter Eleven
They drive all day without talking about it, but the demon shoots Sam sideways glances every time Sam shifts uncomfortably on the seat. He’s also extremely cranky, even more than his usual cranky ass self, and he eats two entire Thursday Night Specials at the Country Road Diner.
Sam spends most of the day thinking, trying to figure out what he’s always gotten wrong and what he might be close to getting right, and how much the demon’s gonna go along with, stubborn jerk that he is. There are really only two things that keep him on an even keel – fighting or fucking. They’re also the two things that bring out the green of his eyes. Sam almost laughs out loud at how stupid that thought sounds in his head, like he’s out at Kmart buying dresses to accentuate demonic eye color. But fuck, he’d do that and more if it would work.
Once he’s made the decision, Sam marvels that it took him almost six months to come to it. He’s tired of the demon’s fighting – both with him and every other human being who inexplicably rubs him the wrong way. There aren’t enough evil things that need vanquishing to deplete the demon’s appetite for violence through hunting, at least not enough that they can get to on a day’s notice while still staying off the other hunters’ radar. A few days of driving without something to sink his teeth into – literally – and the demon starts fighting with Sam instead, and Sam finds himself wishing the world was more fucked up instead of less just so the demon will get off his back. That, Sam realizes, is really not okay.
Which leaves Sam stuck on the time-honored alternative method of dissipating excess energy. He wants to tell himself that it’s practical, that fucking is better than fighting and that’s all there is to it. It’s sure as hell more pleasant, and even with the dull ache of the bites and bruises on Sam’s back and shoulders, probably less dangerous. He wants it to be rational, a tactical decision, a way of surviving. Not a long-buried lust for his brother, so intricately entangled with his love for Dean that he hasn’t been able to feel one without the other since he was first old enough to understand what that fluttering in his belly was when Dean’s eyes caught heat-sparked on his own. The demon stretches beside him, leans his head back against the window with a restless sigh, and the line of his throat, pale and smooth and exposed, makes Sam’s mouth go dry. Nothing rational about it.
And as much as Sam’s spent most of his life trying to convince himself that he doesn’t want his brother, he’s always been more sure of that than anything else. Sam would never have let himself go there before, knows it would have destroyed Dean to have his own twisted desire exposed even if Sam himself could have handled it. But not this Dean. Not the demon who survived hell and came back turned inside out in so many ways. And yet, in this – this dark secret thing they’ve always shared and always hidden – he’s still the same, and maybe Sam has always known it, that he wasn’t alone. Sam can see it when his eyes are green – it’s Dean who wants him, not just the demon. And that makes all the difference.
They bicker about stupid shit over dinner, continue it back at the motel because the demon wants to watch American Idol and Sam wants to vomit over it, and Sam can feel him itching for a fight, feel the way the adrenaline’s coursing through him, winding him up for it.
“I think we should have sex again,” Sam says, interrupting some painfully shy kid from Ohio singing off key.
“Huh?” the demon says, clicking off the remote, and he raises his eyebrows comically.
“You heard me.” Sam’s surprised to hear the certainty in his own voice, belying the tremble of nerves in his stomach.
The demon gapes. “Since when?”
“Since – well, since now. I mean – look, there’s nobody else, and if it’s just gonna be the two of us, I mean – I just, we might as well. I mean, we already did, really, so --
“This a joke?” The demon screws one eye almost shut, stares at Sam like he’s an alien.
“No, for chrissakes, who would make that kind of a joke? You’re a demon, and before that you were my brother, and – I mean, no, jesus.” Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I mean, of course this isn’t a good idea, when would fucking a demon or fucking your brother be a good idea?
Not surprisingly, the demon gets with the program really quickly, any hint of hesitation or pretense of guilt forgotten. Sometimes he’s so not Dean, it makes Sam’s chest ache. He gets up and crosses the short distance to where Sam’s lying on the other bed, already wearing a predatory grin. “So you got off on that fuck in the bathroom after all, huh Sam?”
Sam plants a hand flat on his chest, stops him before he can climb onto the bed. “No, I didn’t actually. And that’s why this time I’m gonna fuck you.”
The demon cocks an eyebrow, hesitates for a half second, then shrugs and smirks. “Works for me, Sammy. Whatever floats your boat.”
“Can you maybe not talk while we do this?” Sam says, cringing.
The demon rolls his eyes – it’s distractingly kind of adorable even though it looks fairly ridiculous when they’re all black – but Sam knows he’s sure as hell not gonna push his luck, so if silent sex is what Sam wants, silent sex is what Sam’s gonna get.
Of course, that would only be the case if Sam could keep quiet too.
The demon strips his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, his amulet – Dean’s amulet -- catching in the material and strangling him for a moment before he pulls it back down and slides both hands down taut stomach muscles to his belt buckle. That’s all it takes for Sam to let out a poorly stifled groan, his eyes riveted to the demon’s fingers as he tugs the belt free and pops the button of his fly. Sam’s already had his brother’s dick in his ass, but there’s something so much more obvious and dirty about this, something so real now that it’s planned and slowed-down and mutual. He wonders again if he’s doing this to keep the demon calm or because he’s wanted to for almost a decade and finally can. Like this is some fucked-up silver lining to the curse of having Dean die and come back a demon.
The thought – all thoughts – are wiped out of Sam’s brain when the demon pulls down his zipper with surprising slowness, his other hand stroking lightly over his own chest until his nipples are stiff little nubs that make Sam’s tongue ache to tease them. He doesn’t pull his cock out, just plays with it through the open vee of his jeans as he crawls across the bed and balances on his knees in front of Sam, running a finger up and down the swell of it straining against his underwear. Sam makes another goddamn sound, and shit it’s almost a whimper, but he wants, wants to see, to touch. Wants to feel Dean’s cock in his hand again, hot and thick and so fucking alive against his palm, under his fingers.
The demon seems to read his mind, presses the heel of his hand to his crotch with a groan, then shimmies his jeans further down his thighs so he’s got more room. He still doesn’t take it out though, the bastard, just strokes the length of it under the stretched black fabric of his briefs until the reddened head peeks through the elastic at the top, trapped tight against the demon’s belly.
“You wanna touch me?” the demon asks, promise of silence lost in lust. He reaches down to cup his heavy balls, rolls them through the cloth, and Sam can see his cock twitch eagerly, glisten of slick at the tip. Fuck. That’s it.
Sam’s got his hand shoved inside the demon’s underwear before he even takes any of his own clothes off, palming his balls possessively and bringing their bodies together with a slam that makes the demon curse and twist like he’s trying to get away. He’s not, but even if he was, Sam’s not sure he could allow it now, the desire that’s pounding through him is so strong. So long, he’s wanted this for so long, wanted Dean for so long, and now he can have him.
“Jesus, Sam, take it easy, your stitches,” the demon starts to complain, but then Sam gets his dick out – finally – and the demon doesn’t seem to want it easy after all, shuts up and just moans encouragingly as Sam’s fingers work him up and down.
Sam doesn’t want to wait, doesn’t want to tease, just wants to hear those sounds the demon makes when he comes, see his eyes go green and soft and Dean, so he doesn’t stop, not even to get the demon’s jeans off the rest of the way. It’s fast and rough and Sam leaves teeth marks on the demon’s throat and scratches across his broad back as he holds him upright crushed to Sam’s chest. “That’s right,” Sam hears himself say, as the demon writhes and pants against him, surprisingly pliant in Sam’s arms. He pushes his hips up, cock swollen and hot in Sam’s hand, leaking, and his fingers clutch at Sam’s hips, catch in his belt loops.
Sam lets go before the demon gets off, pushes him backwards on the bed, and the demon sprawls easily, bucking and groaning and asking wordlessly for more. His dick is swollen angry red against his belly, and the elastic of his underwear still has his balls trapped beneath them, but he doesn’t touch himself or take them off, just watches Sam with hooded black eyes and waits. This time there’s lube instead of conditioner, and Sam shucks his shirt and pants and slicks up his dick with it noisily, shaking with eagerness. “Roll over,” he orders. He wants to wince at the way it comes out, all hoarse and growled and no gentleness at all, but the demon just obeys, finally peeling his briefs over his hips and kicking them off with his jeans until he’s naked on his belly and spreading his legs. “Jesusfuck,” Sam groans, and he almost goes off before he can even get in. The demon just spreads his thighs wider and lifts his ass in invitation, gives Sam a lazy grin as he turns his head to look over his shoulder.
“C’mon Sammy,” he leers, “Give it to me.”
His eyes are still black, and Sam feels a stab of disappointment, realizes how much he wanted this with Dean. Apparently sex isn’t a sure-fire way to get a piece of his brother back for a few minutes – but fuck, he shouldn’t be wanting that now anyway. Should be fucking the demon, not Dean. Sam almost wants to laugh at the comparison. What’s worse? Fucking your brother or fucking a demon? He really would laugh if it weren’t supposed to be so terrible either way.
“”You just gonna stare at my ass or you gonna tap it?” the demon smirks, and he arches his back and raises his slender hips obscenely, thighs parted wide enough to expose the dark cleft between muscled cheeks and fuckyes, Sam’s gonna tap that. He slicks a finger first, and the demon growls and clenches tight as he works it in, but he says “more” and whimpers when Sam pulls it out to add another.
“You know what you look like?” Sam mutters as the demon rocks back on his hand, hips working in slow dirty circles, fucking himself open on Sam’s slick fingers. The demon lifts his ass for it, moans like a pornstar.
Sam stares down at the splay of his hand, tan against the demon’s pale hip, at his fingers sinking deep inside his brother’s ass, making his spine arch and curve with shudders of pleasure. Dean’s strong body offered up, and god Sam wants to own him, make Dean his and no one else’s, not ever again. The demon gasps a protest as Sam lets his fingers slip free, hisses as Sam tugs him up to his hands and knees and takes him, cock shoving in even deeper than his fingers. The demon flings his arms out to either side like he’s being crucified and turns against the mattress so Sam can see his face, his expression alternating between winces of discomfort and open-mouthed bliss. “Yeah,” he says, and his fingers grab at the sheets, “Just like that, fuckme hard.” He doesn’t say Sam’s name, doesn’t say anyone’s name, and Sam has the sudden horrible thought that he could be anyone – any one of a million nameless faceless men shoving their dick up his ass. And no. Just no.
It takes almost superhuman strength to stop, and Sam gasps when he pulls out, his body protesting loudly and telling him to get back to it right fucking now. The demon protests too, just as loudly, cursing Sam out with “What the fuck, you can’t just stop, for fucks sake!”
Sam manhandles him onto his back, hauls his legs up over Sam’s shoulders with a grunt, and slams his dick back home before the demon can even catch his breath to lodge another complaint.
“Fuck!” is all the demon manages, and his eyes fly open in surprise at being caught off guard.
“Want you,” Sam pants out between thrusts, too breathless to get it out all at once. “Want you – to know – who’s inside you,” he says, “Who’s fucking you.”
The demon locks his hands around Sam’s biceps, holds on as Sam pounds into him like he’s trying to break right through.
“Wanna know – that it’s me – me and you, oh g - god,” Sam stammers, “Nobody else, not a – a stranger – me.”
The demon whimpers, tries to turn his head away. “No, look at me,” Sam says, wanting it to be an order, but it comes out a plea, as desperate as he feels.
The demon obeys though, and Sam locks their eyes as they rock together, can’t stop talking now that he’s started. “Yeah, yeah, that’s right – lemme see you – so good, god – feels so good to be inside you, wanted you so bad….” He can see the green when it begins, the way the demon’s face goes lax as his guard goes down, the blackness melting away with his control. Sam thrusts deep, wrings a moan of pleasure from the demon as his cock hits just right, says “God yeah – wanna make you feel it – look so beautiful, you’re so – ohgod.”
He’s babbling, but it doesn’t matter, Dean’s staring back at him, eyes wide and emerald and heels digging into Sam’s back, clutching at Sam’s arms like he’ll be sucked back into hell if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough.
“Sam,” he sobs, and his long lashes glisten against wet cheeks, but they don’t stop, can’t stop, even if it was wrong once in another place, another time. It’s the only thing that still feels right here, and there’s no regret as Sam tries to spin it out and make it last, tries to still the frantic motion of his hips and keep Dean there with him longer.
“Wanted to do this for so long, Dean,” he rasps, voice gone gruff from too-heavy breaths, “Thought about it – dreamt about it – fuck, jerked off to it –
“Nggghh” Dean groans, like Sam’s words are too much for him, and he curls up desperately toward Sam, one hand wrapped around the back of Sam’s neck to haul him down, and fuck, is he gonna?
Their mouths come together too fast and too hard on Sam’s next downthrust, teeth clashing and the taste of blood salty between them, but Sam doesn’t give a fuck. His tongue’s in his brother’s mouth, Dean’s lips open and eager just like the rest of him, all there for Sam’s taking. They’ve shared blood forever, and even hell can’t change that, and now, goddammit, now they’ll share something else between them that hell can’t take away. The demon’s legs slip lower, sliding against the sweat on Sam’s flanks to wrap around his hips, and Sam levers one hand under the crook of his brother’s knee and forces it up again, high enough that he can fuck in deep, fill Dean up so he’ll never ever be fucking empty or without Sam ever again.
Dean growls into Sam’s mouth, shudders and just goes with it, his strong body relaxed as a ragdoll’s in Sam’s grasp. He lets Sam spread him wide and hammer him down into the bed, the hand on the back of Sam’s neck curling into his hair and twisting painfully as he tries to arch up and meet Sam’s thrusts.
“Fuck,” Sam whispers, muffled against kiss-swollen lips, “Can’t – can’t hold back, Dean – gotta – fuck, I gotta –
He slides a hand down his brother’s hard muscled stomach, the skin hot and sleek with sweat, fumbles for his cock. His fingers barely wrap around, never even get a chance to tighten, and Dean’s coming in his hand, pumping warm and slick as he whimpers against Sam’s cheek in time with Sam’s cock sliding in and out of his fevered body.
That’s it, Sam’s out of his mind with it, too many sensations all at once and every one of them hotter than the one before, Dean’s come slippery wet on his fingers, Dean’s ass clenched so tight around his dick he can barely keep moving. He stills his hips and stiffens all over, muscles locked and body trembling with the strain as he comes.
He falls to kissing Dean after, soft gentle slurps and slides of mouth against mouth, teeth nipping at Dean’s obscenely full bottom lip as Sam stares into those beautiful eyes. He’s too close to focus, can just make out an ocean of green, sparkling and clear and fathoms-deep.
“Dean,” he says, fingers stroking possessively over the curve of his brother’s ass. “Stay.”
“No. Can’t, Sammy.” Dean splays a hand over Sam’s chest, his eyes wide as he feels the still-frantic pounding of Sam’s heart there. “ ‘s too much.”
“Please?” Sam doesn’t even care that he’s begging, that he sounds like he’s about to burst into tears, but god, he needs Dean, needs the contact with whatever remains of his brother. Needs to stare into his eyes and see him, not the demon. Even if that’s who his brother is now.
“Sam,” Dean says, and there’s sadness in his voice, “Can’t stay, can’t.”
“Fuck that,” Sam huffs, too loud in the quiet of their room, “Who says? There’s nobody here but you and me, and I – Dean, please, I need you to stay. Just for a little while. Fuck them, Dean, fuck ‘em all!” He latches onto one protruding hipbone and holds tight, fingers digging in so roughly he knows there will be bruises there – at least for a little while. “Dean,” he starts again, and his brother shifts, presses a spread palm harder against Sam’s chest like Sam’s heartbeat will anchor him there.
“Talk to me, Sammy,” he says softly. “Tell me who I am.”
Chapter Twelve
Author: runedgirl
Rating: NC17 – lots of SEX in this chapter, if that’s a warning
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/demon!Dean
Summary: The brother that Sam gets back isn’t the same, but Sam’s love is. Sam risks everything and leaves everyone he’s ever cared about behind in the desperate hope that the bond between him and Dean might just be strong enough to transcend what hell did to his brother.
Set post Season 3, seven months after Dean’s deal came due and written over the summer before it was AU, this story just kept writing itself and wouldn’t let go until it was an epic love story in every sense, eventually spanning five decades with enough twists and turns to make me dizzy.
Warning: Spoilers for S3 finale; violence; Wincest (obviously)
Beta: My other half and my sexyboy – mwah!
AN: Not a WIP – story is finished with 18 chapters and will be posted regularly.
So suddenly this story seems to be right in line with Kripke’s thinking – how weird is that? Sam comes to a big decision in this chapter, and things take yet another twisty turn
Chapter Eleven
They drive all day without talking about it, but the demon shoots Sam sideways glances every time Sam shifts uncomfortably on the seat. He’s also extremely cranky, even more than his usual cranky ass self, and he eats two entire Thursday Night Specials at the Country Road Diner.
Sam spends most of the day thinking, trying to figure out what he’s always gotten wrong and what he might be close to getting right, and how much the demon’s gonna go along with, stubborn jerk that he is. There are really only two things that keep him on an even keel – fighting or fucking. They’re also the two things that bring out the green of his eyes. Sam almost laughs out loud at how stupid that thought sounds in his head, like he’s out at Kmart buying dresses to accentuate demonic eye color. But fuck, he’d do that and more if it would work.
Once he’s made the decision, Sam marvels that it took him almost six months to come to it. He’s tired of the demon’s fighting – both with him and every other human being who inexplicably rubs him the wrong way. There aren’t enough evil things that need vanquishing to deplete the demon’s appetite for violence through hunting, at least not enough that they can get to on a day’s notice while still staying off the other hunters’ radar. A few days of driving without something to sink his teeth into – literally – and the demon starts fighting with Sam instead, and Sam finds himself wishing the world was more fucked up instead of less just so the demon will get off his back. That, Sam realizes, is really not okay.
Which leaves Sam stuck on the time-honored alternative method of dissipating excess energy. He wants to tell himself that it’s practical, that fucking is better than fighting and that’s all there is to it. It’s sure as hell more pleasant, and even with the dull ache of the bites and bruises on Sam’s back and shoulders, probably less dangerous. He wants it to be rational, a tactical decision, a way of surviving. Not a long-buried lust for his brother, so intricately entangled with his love for Dean that he hasn’t been able to feel one without the other since he was first old enough to understand what that fluttering in his belly was when Dean’s eyes caught heat-sparked on his own. The demon stretches beside him, leans his head back against the window with a restless sigh, and the line of his throat, pale and smooth and exposed, makes Sam’s mouth go dry. Nothing rational about it.
And as much as Sam’s spent most of his life trying to convince himself that he doesn’t want his brother, he’s always been more sure of that than anything else. Sam would never have let himself go there before, knows it would have destroyed Dean to have his own twisted desire exposed even if Sam himself could have handled it. But not this Dean. Not the demon who survived hell and came back turned inside out in so many ways. And yet, in this – this dark secret thing they’ve always shared and always hidden – he’s still the same, and maybe Sam has always known it, that he wasn’t alone. Sam can see it when his eyes are green – it’s Dean who wants him, not just the demon. And that makes all the difference.
They bicker about stupid shit over dinner, continue it back at the motel because the demon wants to watch American Idol and Sam wants to vomit over it, and Sam can feel him itching for a fight, feel the way the adrenaline’s coursing through him, winding him up for it.
“I think we should have sex again,” Sam says, interrupting some painfully shy kid from Ohio singing off key.
“Huh?” the demon says, clicking off the remote, and he raises his eyebrows comically.
“You heard me.” Sam’s surprised to hear the certainty in his own voice, belying the tremble of nerves in his stomach.
The demon gapes. “Since when?”
“Since – well, since now. I mean – look, there’s nobody else, and if it’s just gonna be the two of us, I mean – I just, we might as well. I mean, we already did, really, so --
“This a joke?” The demon screws one eye almost shut, stares at Sam like he’s an alien.
“No, for chrissakes, who would make that kind of a joke? You’re a demon, and before that you were my brother, and – I mean, no, jesus.” Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I mean, of course this isn’t a good idea, when would fucking a demon or fucking your brother be a good idea?
Not surprisingly, the demon gets with the program really quickly, any hint of hesitation or pretense of guilt forgotten. Sometimes he’s so not Dean, it makes Sam’s chest ache. He gets up and crosses the short distance to where Sam’s lying on the other bed, already wearing a predatory grin. “So you got off on that fuck in the bathroom after all, huh Sam?”
Sam plants a hand flat on his chest, stops him before he can climb onto the bed. “No, I didn’t actually. And that’s why this time I’m gonna fuck you.”
The demon cocks an eyebrow, hesitates for a half second, then shrugs and smirks. “Works for me, Sammy. Whatever floats your boat.”
“Can you maybe not talk while we do this?” Sam says, cringing.
The demon rolls his eyes – it’s distractingly kind of adorable even though it looks fairly ridiculous when they’re all black – but Sam knows he’s sure as hell not gonna push his luck, so if silent sex is what Sam wants, silent sex is what Sam’s gonna get.
Of course, that would only be the case if Sam could keep quiet too.
The demon strips his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, his amulet – Dean’s amulet -- catching in the material and strangling him for a moment before he pulls it back down and slides both hands down taut stomach muscles to his belt buckle. That’s all it takes for Sam to let out a poorly stifled groan, his eyes riveted to the demon’s fingers as he tugs the belt free and pops the button of his fly. Sam’s already had his brother’s dick in his ass, but there’s something so much more obvious and dirty about this, something so real now that it’s planned and slowed-down and mutual. He wonders again if he’s doing this to keep the demon calm or because he’s wanted to for almost a decade and finally can. Like this is some fucked-up silver lining to the curse of having Dean die and come back a demon.
The thought – all thoughts – are wiped out of Sam’s brain when the demon pulls down his zipper with surprising slowness, his other hand stroking lightly over his own chest until his nipples are stiff little nubs that make Sam’s tongue ache to tease them. He doesn’t pull his cock out, just plays with it through the open vee of his jeans as he crawls across the bed and balances on his knees in front of Sam, running a finger up and down the swell of it straining against his underwear. Sam makes another goddamn sound, and shit it’s almost a whimper, but he wants, wants to see, to touch. Wants to feel Dean’s cock in his hand again, hot and thick and so fucking alive against his palm, under his fingers.
The demon seems to read his mind, presses the heel of his hand to his crotch with a groan, then shimmies his jeans further down his thighs so he’s got more room. He still doesn’t take it out though, the bastard, just strokes the length of it under the stretched black fabric of his briefs until the reddened head peeks through the elastic at the top, trapped tight against the demon’s belly.
“You wanna touch me?” the demon asks, promise of silence lost in lust. He reaches down to cup his heavy balls, rolls them through the cloth, and Sam can see his cock twitch eagerly, glisten of slick at the tip. Fuck. That’s it.
Sam’s got his hand shoved inside the demon’s underwear before he even takes any of his own clothes off, palming his balls possessively and bringing their bodies together with a slam that makes the demon curse and twist like he’s trying to get away. He’s not, but even if he was, Sam’s not sure he could allow it now, the desire that’s pounding through him is so strong. So long, he’s wanted this for so long, wanted Dean for so long, and now he can have him.
“Jesus, Sam, take it easy, your stitches,” the demon starts to complain, but then Sam gets his dick out – finally – and the demon doesn’t seem to want it easy after all, shuts up and just moans encouragingly as Sam’s fingers work him up and down.
Sam doesn’t want to wait, doesn’t want to tease, just wants to hear those sounds the demon makes when he comes, see his eyes go green and soft and Dean, so he doesn’t stop, not even to get the demon’s jeans off the rest of the way. It’s fast and rough and Sam leaves teeth marks on the demon’s throat and scratches across his broad back as he holds him upright crushed to Sam’s chest. “That’s right,” Sam hears himself say, as the demon writhes and pants against him, surprisingly pliant in Sam’s arms. He pushes his hips up, cock swollen and hot in Sam’s hand, leaking, and his fingers clutch at Sam’s hips, catch in his belt loops.
Sam lets go before the demon gets off, pushes him backwards on the bed, and the demon sprawls easily, bucking and groaning and asking wordlessly for more. His dick is swollen angry red against his belly, and the elastic of his underwear still has his balls trapped beneath them, but he doesn’t touch himself or take them off, just watches Sam with hooded black eyes and waits. This time there’s lube instead of conditioner, and Sam shucks his shirt and pants and slicks up his dick with it noisily, shaking with eagerness. “Roll over,” he orders. He wants to wince at the way it comes out, all hoarse and growled and no gentleness at all, but the demon just obeys, finally peeling his briefs over his hips and kicking them off with his jeans until he’s naked on his belly and spreading his legs. “Jesusfuck,” Sam groans, and he almost goes off before he can even get in. The demon just spreads his thighs wider and lifts his ass in invitation, gives Sam a lazy grin as he turns his head to look over his shoulder.
“C’mon Sammy,” he leers, “Give it to me.”
His eyes are still black, and Sam feels a stab of disappointment, realizes how much he wanted this with Dean. Apparently sex isn’t a sure-fire way to get a piece of his brother back for a few minutes – but fuck, he shouldn’t be wanting that now anyway. Should be fucking the demon, not Dean. Sam almost wants to laugh at the comparison. What’s worse? Fucking your brother or fucking a demon? He really would laugh if it weren’t supposed to be so terrible either way.
“”You just gonna stare at my ass or you gonna tap it?” the demon smirks, and he arches his back and raises his slender hips obscenely, thighs parted wide enough to expose the dark cleft between muscled cheeks and fuckyes, Sam’s gonna tap that. He slicks a finger first, and the demon growls and clenches tight as he works it in, but he says “more” and whimpers when Sam pulls it out to add another.
“You know what you look like?” Sam mutters as the demon rocks back on his hand, hips working in slow dirty circles, fucking himself open on Sam’s slick fingers. The demon lifts his ass for it, moans like a pornstar.
Sam stares down at the splay of his hand, tan against the demon’s pale hip, at his fingers sinking deep inside his brother’s ass, making his spine arch and curve with shudders of pleasure. Dean’s strong body offered up, and god Sam wants to own him, make Dean his and no one else’s, not ever again. The demon gasps a protest as Sam lets his fingers slip free, hisses as Sam tugs him up to his hands and knees and takes him, cock shoving in even deeper than his fingers. The demon flings his arms out to either side like he’s being crucified and turns against the mattress so Sam can see his face, his expression alternating between winces of discomfort and open-mouthed bliss. “Yeah,” he says, and his fingers grab at the sheets, “Just like that, fuckme hard.” He doesn’t say Sam’s name, doesn’t say anyone’s name, and Sam has the sudden horrible thought that he could be anyone – any one of a million nameless faceless men shoving their dick up his ass. And no. Just no.
It takes almost superhuman strength to stop, and Sam gasps when he pulls out, his body protesting loudly and telling him to get back to it right fucking now. The demon protests too, just as loudly, cursing Sam out with “What the fuck, you can’t just stop, for fucks sake!”
Sam manhandles him onto his back, hauls his legs up over Sam’s shoulders with a grunt, and slams his dick back home before the demon can even catch his breath to lodge another complaint.
“Fuck!” is all the demon manages, and his eyes fly open in surprise at being caught off guard.
“Want you,” Sam pants out between thrusts, too breathless to get it out all at once. “Want you – to know – who’s inside you,” he says, “Who’s fucking you.”
The demon locks his hands around Sam’s biceps, holds on as Sam pounds into him like he’s trying to break right through.
“Wanna know – that it’s me – me and you, oh g - god,” Sam stammers, “Nobody else, not a – a stranger – me.”
The demon whimpers, tries to turn his head away. “No, look at me,” Sam says, wanting it to be an order, but it comes out a plea, as desperate as he feels.
The demon obeys though, and Sam locks their eyes as they rock together, can’t stop talking now that he’s started. “Yeah, yeah, that’s right – lemme see you – so good, god – feels so good to be inside you, wanted you so bad….” He can see the green when it begins, the way the demon’s face goes lax as his guard goes down, the blackness melting away with his control. Sam thrusts deep, wrings a moan of pleasure from the demon as his cock hits just right, says “God yeah – wanna make you feel it – look so beautiful, you’re so – ohgod.”
He’s babbling, but it doesn’t matter, Dean’s staring back at him, eyes wide and emerald and heels digging into Sam’s back, clutching at Sam’s arms like he’ll be sucked back into hell if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough.
“Sam,” he sobs, and his long lashes glisten against wet cheeks, but they don’t stop, can’t stop, even if it was wrong once in another place, another time. It’s the only thing that still feels right here, and there’s no regret as Sam tries to spin it out and make it last, tries to still the frantic motion of his hips and keep Dean there with him longer.
“Wanted to do this for so long, Dean,” he rasps, voice gone gruff from too-heavy breaths, “Thought about it – dreamt about it – fuck, jerked off to it –
“Nggghh” Dean groans, like Sam’s words are too much for him, and he curls up desperately toward Sam, one hand wrapped around the back of Sam’s neck to haul him down, and fuck, is he gonna?
Their mouths come together too fast and too hard on Sam’s next downthrust, teeth clashing and the taste of blood salty between them, but Sam doesn’t give a fuck. His tongue’s in his brother’s mouth, Dean’s lips open and eager just like the rest of him, all there for Sam’s taking. They’ve shared blood forever, and even hell can’t change that, and now, goddammit, now they’ll share something else between them that hell can’t take away. The demon’s legs slip lower, sliding against the sweat on Sam’s flanks to wrap around his hips, and Sam levers one hand under the crook of his brother’s knee and forces it up again, high enough that he can fuck in deep, fill Dean up so he’ll never ever be fucking empty or without Sam ever again.
Dean growls into Sam’s mouth, shudders and just goes with it, his strong body relaxed as a ragdoll’s in Sam’s grasp. He lets Sam spread him wide and hammer him down into the bed, the hand on the back of Sam’s neck curling into his hair and twisting painfully as he tries to arch up and meet Sam’s thrusts.
“Fuck,” Sam whispers, muffled against kiss-swollen lips, “Can’t – can’t hold back, Dean – gotta – fuck, I gotta –
He slides a hand down his brother’s hard muscled stomach, the skin hot and sleek with sweat, fumbles for his cock. His fingers barely wrap around, never even get a chance to tighten, and Dean’s coming in his hand, pumping warm and slick as he whimpers against Sam’s cheek in time with Sam’s cock sliding in and out of his fevered body.
That’s it, Sam’s out of his mind with it, too many sensations all at once and every one of them hotter than the one before, Dean’s come slippery wet on his fingers, Dean’s ass clenched so tight around his dick he can barely keep moving. He stills his hips and stiffens all over, muscles locked and body trembling with the strain as he comes.
He falls to kissing Dean after, soft gentle slurps and slides of mouth against mouth, teeth nipping at Dean’s obscenely full bottom lip as Sam stares into those beautiful eyes. He’s too close to focus, can just make out an ocean of green, sparkling and clear and fathoms-deep.
“Dean,” he says, fingers stroking possessively over the curve of his brother’s ass. “Stay.”
“No. Can’t, Sammy.” Dean splays a hand over Sam’s chest, his eyes wide as he feels the still-frantic pounding of Sam’s heart there. “ ‘s too much.”
“Please?” Sam doesn’t even care that he’s begging, that he sounds like he’s about to burst into tears, but god, he needs Dean, needs the contact with whatever remains of his brother. Needs to stare into his eyes and see him, not the demon. Even if that’s who his brother is now.
“Sam,” Dean says, and there’s sadness in his voice, “Can’t stay, can’t.”
“Fuck that,” Sam huffs, too loud in the quiet of their room, “Who says? There’s nobody here but you and me, and I – Dean, please, I need you to stay. Just for a little while. Fuck them, Dean, fuck ‘em all!” He latches onto one protruding hipbone and holds tight, fingers digging in so roughly he knows there will be bruises there – at least for a little while. “Dean,” he starts again, and his brother shifts, presses a spread palm harder against Sam’s chest like Sam’s heartbeat will anchor him there.
“Talk to me, Sammy,” he says softly. “Tell me who I am.”
Chapter Twelve
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:07 am (UTC)I do love me some demon!Dean swagger, gotta say...
Hugs,
Lyns
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:08 am (UTC)Thanks again!
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 06:27 pm (UTC)*dangles*
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:08 am (UTC)*hugs you*
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 06:45 pm (UTC)You're breaking my heart here. Poor Dean, and poor Sam. I can see that there might be a way to break through here, and I hope it works for them, because there's so much lovewantneed between them that if they can't they'll self-destruct.
As ever, you transport their lovemaking into something that speaks to the emotions. They aren't just fucking, and that's exactly how I imagine they'd be if it were possible to show them together on prime time network TV! The sheer depths of love between the two of them is amazing, and you convey that so well.
But where's the rest? I'm not happy. :(
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:10 am (UTC)More soon (yeah, yeah, I always say that, I know....) LOL
Hugs,
Lyns
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 06:46 pm (UTC)There are really only two things that keep him on an even keel – fighting or fucking.
--interesting, the two most carnal human (male) instincts. Maybe one must start at the beginning to learn anew.
I loved Sam trying to convince himself that he was just doing it to "calm the savage beast." We all know different, and by the end, you made it quite clear that Sam know, too! Really well done.
The smooth transition from carnal being to human is really enjoyable to read. Doesn't hurt that it takes a "Dean and Sam together in bed" scene to do it, either! ;)
“Talk to me, Sammy,” he says softly. “Tell me who I am.”
--The whole chapter was wonderful and moving, but this line killed me!
I look forward to each addition to this story. It is growing and developing so beautifully. I even like the demon (probably shouldn't say that out loud, should I?)
Sorry, I do tend to ramble.
Thanks for sharing your marvelous story.
Nora
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:11 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 06:49 pm (UTC)Gorgeous. Just plain damn gorgeous!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:12 am (UTC)Thanks again,
Lyns
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 07:28 pm (UTC)I am a coherent, overly wordy person most days but when I read fic that is so supremely awesome as this...I just lose my ability to word well enough to say how much I love this and what it is that moves me about it.
Maybe this will convey...
I am starting a new novel that is taking some of my fav things about SPN and its fanfic and mutating them into something that isn't plagerism. lol! But one of the characters is inspired by your portrayal of Demon!dean.
Ok that sounds like total plagerism but the end result won't be.
Stopping now before I sound even more like an idiot.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:13 am (UTC)Thanks so much,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 07:47 pm (UTC)I've been trying to start this sentence for 2 minutes but I don't know what to start with! Once I decide to say how scorching hot the sex was, and then I think: "no, no, talk about how heartbreaking the last scene is!" And I don't know how to translate the feeling of awe I'm feeling right now.
Another amazing chapter in an amazing fic! And I'm so utterly happy that there is still 7 chapters to go!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:15 am (UTC)Thanks again!
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 08:07 pm (UTC)Oh hell. *flail* So incredibly perfect.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:16 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:17 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
Hell yeah - tap that ass!!!!
Date: 2008-11-28 08:32 pm (UTC)Good god, woman... I'm in awe of your dirty mind. You always get it right. It's not just the hot sex you write, but the intensity and angst you create between the characters. It always keeps me riveted to my screen. Keep it comin'.
-Ash
Re: Hell yeah - tap that ass!!!!
Date: 2008-11-29 01:18 am (UTC)Kisses,
Lyns
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:19 am (UTC)Thanks again,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 09:07 pm (UTC)Oh Dean!
Just.. wow.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:19 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lyns
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 09:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:20 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 11:30 pm (UTC)Their love making - because that's what was - brought tears to my eyes and the more intense it got the more they fell. So sad. Sam is so desperate to have Dean back it breaks your heart.
I think it's these acts of utter desperation and earthshattering arousal that bring Dean to the surface.
OMG, Dean is such a lost soul. Who are you indeed!!! xx
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:22 am (UTC)Thanks again!
Lyns
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 11:37 pm (UTC)“Talk to me, Sammy,” he says softly. “Tell me who I am.”
I'm dying to find out how Sam will answer to this.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:23 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 12:34 am (UTC)KSS
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 01:23 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 02:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 05:04 pm (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 05:05 pm (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-29 09:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 03:47 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lyns
no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 12:00 am (UTC)you're absolutely killing me with this story
the demon!dean and sam's!dean are just so..
argh!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 03:48 am (UTC)Thanks again!
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 12:18 am (UTC)It packs such an emotional punch. Their need, their pain and their love.
Needs to stare into his eyes and see him, not the demon. Even if that’s who his brother is now.
Amazing read!!!!
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 03:49 am (UTC)Hugs back,
Lyns
no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 01:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 03:50 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey
no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 03:18 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for commenting, it totally makes my day!
Mwah!
Lyns
no subject
Date: 2008-11-30 04:25 pm (UTC)I adore the way you drag out Sam's guilt over this, so that even as he's enjoying it, you bring us back to the fact that they're still brothers and Dean's still a demon. The entire scene was handled very well. I was so relieved to see how perfectly this played out, how 100 percent believable it was!!
“No. Can’t, Sammy.” Dean splays a hand over Sam’s chest, his eyes wide as he feels the still-frantic pounding of Sam’s heart there. “ ‘s too much.
This was such a great wake-up call after the sex, it just turns everything around and takes us back to the fact that Dean was in hell. It's perfectly placed, and so very realistic in the boundaries of the fic.
Anyway, absolutely wonderful chapter and amazing work! As always eagerly looking forward to the next one.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-01 02:02 am (UTC)Hugs,
Lynsey