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runedgirlTitle: For The Love Of Chuck (Or Not)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
runedgirl
Artist:a_biting_smile
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 6360
Sam made a startled noise and didn’t reciprocate, and Dean kissed him harder, holding Sam pressed close to him as he moved his mouth against Sam’s closed lips. It felt incredibly awkward; Dean couldn’t ever remember kissing someone who didn’t kiss back even a tiny bit.
He pulled back long enough to look up and address Chuck again.
“Like that, Chuck? Bet you never saw that one coming, did you? Didn’t set that up to happen, huh? You not likin’ what you see, Chuck? Turning your stomach a little to see what I’d really like to do to Sammy?”
“Dean,” Sam murmured from where he was still held tight in Dean’s arms, his face only inches away.
“I’ll stop if you want me to,” Dean said, because this wasn’t about hurting Sam, and while there had been times that Dean had been convinced that Sam felt the same way he did, he’d never been certain and that meant he’d never considered trying.
Sam stared at him a while longer, his eyes almost crossing they were so close, and then dove in and pressed his lips to Dean’s so roughly that it hurt.
Dean opened up and Sam’s tongue pushed in deep and then Dean forgot all about Chuck and why they were doing this in the first place as they kissed each other like they’d never get enough.
“I did not see that as a possibility,” Castiel said from across the room. “You’re brothers.”
Sam broke the kiss and stepped back just slightly, looking at Cas over Dean’s shoulder.
“Well duh,” Dean said, and turned his head to see Castiel’s expression. The angel looked surprised, but not like he was gonna lose his metaphorical lunch.
“Sorry, Cas,” Sam said. “We didn’t mean to make you watch that.”
Cas shrugged. “If it’s upsetting Chuck to watch, then by all means continue. I have some things to do to get ready to leave tomorrow.”
And with that he was gone.
Sam pulled Dean back in none too gently.
“Hey hey, take it easy Tarzan,” Dean grumbled, but there were butterflies in his belly at being manhandled because Sam wanted him there.
“I don’t think you mean that,” Sam said, and the trace of a smile crossed his handsome face, and Dean flushed with sudden heat at the truth of that statement.
“Should we go to the bedroom?” he asked, but Sam just shook his head and wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and set his mouth to Dean’s once again.
“I think we should make this as kinky as we want,” Sam growled in his ear when they broke apart. “I can think of all kinds of things I wanna do to you that might make Chuck want to stab his eyeballs out.”
“Sammy,” Dean gasped, goosebumps racing over his skin as Sam’s teeth scraped the sensitive spot behind his ear. “I get all tingly when you take control like that.”
Sam laughed then, and Dean could feel the rumble of it all through his body.
“Good,” Sam said, and pushed Dean towards the couch. He half sat half fell onto it, and Sam hovered over him, looking ten feet tall and strong as an ox.
“Take your clothes off, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean stifled a whimper. He struggled to kick off boots and jeans, pushed his shirts over his head.
Sam watched him the whole time, cat eyes narrowed and assessing. Dean felt like a slab of meat on a butcher block, Sam’s gaze like a physical thing. He felt his nipples peak, his cock harden in his shorts.
Sam stripped then, slowly like he wanted to make it a striptease for Dean. And Dean knew what his little brother looked like, of course he did, but being able to skate his eyes all over the dips and planes of Sam’s powerful body was new. He had to wet his lips with his tongue because he was breathing so hard by the time Sam was done, naked except for his own boxer briefs, the front distorted by the swell of Sam's dick already half erect.
“Fuck Sam, you’re fucking gorgeous,” Dean said, because why not? The wrongness of it made his cock twitch, made him flush all over with a heady mix of shame and arousal.
Sam smiled like a predator and slipped his fingers beneath the waist of his shorts, slowly slid them down his slim hips. “And you look like the most forbidden wet dream ever.”
“Jesus,” Dean groaned, blood rushing to his dick so quickly it was uncomfortable. “Are we trying to say the dirtiest things we can think of to each other because that will make Chuck sick or because we just wanna say the dirtiest things we can think of to each other?”
“Both?” Sam answered, and stepped out of his shorts. Dean stared at his brother, at the hair sparse on his chest between his dark pink nipples and thick around his dark pink cock. He blushed deeper, but pushed the shame away – Chuck didn’t want them to lust after each other? Too damn bad. Giving into this in spite of Chuck was like the most potent aphrodisiac ever, and Dean was determined to take this as far as he possibly could.
“Works for me,” Dean agreed, and pushed his own shorts down, lifting his hips to slide them off.
“Fuck,” Sam swore, his gaze on Dean’s bared body as hungry as Dean’s had been. “Do you have any idea what you look like? How hard it’s been sometimes to just not look?”
The confirmation that Sam had fought off the same sort of forbidden thoughts that he had over the years emboldened Dean even more.
He grinned, and the look on Sam’s face let him know that it was every bit as lecherous as he intended.
“So I guess ol’ Chuck wasn’t pulling the strings quite as well as he thought, was he? Don’t think this was in the script, two brothers wanting to jump each other’s bones. Guess we weren’t quite sticking to Chuck’s grand plan as much as he thought, were we, Sammy?”
Sam’s smile matched Dean’s in both genuine joy at subverting that asshole Chuck and in acknowledging just how off the track this thing they were doing was. Dean felt a burst of pride for his little brother, misplaced though it might have been.
“And I guess you’re not as vanilla as I thought,” he added, watching Sam’s dick plump up even more.
“Afraid not,” Sam said, and licked his lips. He looked up once more before turning all his attention back to Dean sprawled out on the sofa. “Better look away, Chuck, you hypocritical asshole,” Sam growled. “Or you may see your little darlings doing something you don’t like.”
And then Sam was climbing onto the sofa and straddling Dean’s hips and leaning down to kiss him again, no holds barred as his tongue pushed inside in an unmistakable claiming. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s broad back, bucked his hips up to meet Sam’s, and when their dicks made contact Sam broke away to groan and then thrust down so roughly that Dean felt like he’d sink right into the old foam couch.
“Yeah,” he said anyway, hands sliding lower, across the sweat-slick skin of Sam’s back. He grabbed Sam’s ass with both hands and encouraged him to keep going, raising his own hips as much as he could to help. Having Sam on top of him was winding Dean up more than he’d probably ever admit, but Sam seemed to know it, his full weight and the sheer bulk of his broader shoulders making Dean feel entirely owned. Maybe he’d never thought about it in this way, but there was nothing Dean wanted more.
Suddenly Sam stopped moving and then abruptly sat up, climbing off the couch and pausing there on his knees, grimacing.
“Sammy?”
Dean didn’t want to think that maybe Sam had changed his mind after all.
“Ahh,” Sam said, a strangled sound, and reached down to grip the base of his dick. “Shut up for a second, Dean, I don’t want this to be over so fast.”
Sam had his eyes screwed shut, and Dean nearly lost it himself knowing that his brother was so turned on. He obediently lay still and forced himself to be quiet while Sam got himself under control.
“Jesus,” Sam said when he opened his eyes again. “I never thought it would be – Christ, Dean, it’s so good…”
Dean forced a pretend pout, while inside he wanted Sam to keep talking like this forever. “What’d you expect, Sammy? Of course it’s good, it’s me!”
His humor worked; Sam got annoyed and amused at the same time and that allowed him to take his hands off his dick and put them back on Dean.
“Think you’re the only one who can drive someone crazy?” Sam said, half threat and half promise. “I’m gonna make you scream, Dean. Chuck won’t be able to drown out the sound of you begging for my cock no matter how hard he tries.”
That image alone was enough to make Dean have to start writing grocery lists in his head. It didn’t help at all when Sam stood up and loomed over him, then grabbed him by the hips and flipped him over to his belly on the couch.
“Whoa,” Dean said, because it was expected, but the ease with which Sam manhandled him into position had him nearly going off without a hand on his dick. Sam lifted his hips and put him on his knees, and then Dean stopped being able to think at all because Sam forced his cheeks apart with those huge hands and started licking Dean open.
The sound Dean made when that happened was entirely involuntary, and Dean tried frantically to make it a one time thing, but Sam was turning him inside out with his tongue and Dean was so astounded that Sam would do that, he couldn’t even process it. He had a fleeting image of Chuck trying to cover both his eyes and his ears simultaneously, and then Sam stopped doing what he was doing and the sound Dean made then was even worse.
“Hang on, I gotta get something,” Sam said, and slapped Dean on one cheek for reassurance.
Dean had a few minutes to calm down enough to think about how he must look, balanced on hands and knees on some ratty overstuffed couch with his bare ass up in the air, probably glistening with Sam’s spit. He hoped whatever things Castiel had to do were going to take a while.
“Got it,” Sam said, and Dean watched him stride confidently back over to the sofa, hard cock bobbing as he walked and lube in his hand. That misplaced pride washed over Dean again; Sammy was a boy scout and Dean had taught him that better than any scoutmaster could have. Not that any of them would have taught him specifically this…
“Fuckin’ boy scout,” he said, and Sam grinned. Then his oh-so-talented tongue was back at it and Dean stopped speaking in actual words when Sam’s slick finger pushed in too. Sam and his fuckin’ long fingers and big hands, Dean thought, as Sam kept poking around until he found the spot that would make Dean lose the ability to think along with the ability to make words.
“Don’t you dare come,” Sam said when he had to rest his tongue. “I wanna hear you beg and I want Chuck to fuckin’ hear it too. So come on, Dean, lemme hear you!”
With that he shoved another finger in and moved them just right and Dean just gave in to what his body wanted to do anyway. He mewled every time Sam went deep and sobbed every time Sam almost took those magic fingers out, and rolled his hips back for more again and again.
“Yeah,” Sam encouraged, and gave his ass a few hard slaps for emphasis, “Show me how bad you want it – from your little brother. Show me, Dean, goddammit.”
The tiny part of Dean’s brain that was still working was amused by how much Sam was getting off on the most taboo part of what they were doing. He groaned and gave Sam what he wanted.
“Come on little brother, need more,” he pleaded, and Sam must have had three in him now, the burn like fire but the arousal stoked so high it just felt like pleasure almost too intense to bear. “Give it to me, Sammy, gimme your big hard cock, come the fuck on, need it, need it so bad.”
He’d be embarrassed about the bad porn dialogue later – maybe – but right now his dirty words had the effect on Sam that he was hoping for (and hopefully the effect on Chuck he imagined too). Sam choked back a grunt and pulled his fingers out too fast, but before Dean could make a sound he felt the slick head of Sam’s cock try to push inside. Sam’s giant hands held his hips in place like a vise, and Dean spread his legs as wide as he could to help, and after a few frustrating attempts, Sam finally slid inside him.
They both made noise then, Dean a gasp and Sam a grunt, and then it was like they fell into the familiar feeling of each other’s bodies moving together. It was like sparring, knowing just how far they could push each other, how far to bend, how hard to grip, how to lean away when the other leaned in. It was like wrestling, some touches to conquer, master, win; and it was like stitching each other up and calming each other down too, some touches to soothe and reassure and encourage, to bring pleasure instead of pain. The smell of Sam, the feel of Sam, the strength in his hands and the anchoring presence of him above and around and inside, it all felt right, and Dean gave himself over to all of it, all of him to Sam.
“Please, let me, need to,” he found himself pleading. He could feel his swollen dick swaying between his thighs untouched, just the movement bringing stabs of pleasure, and the near constant pressure of Sam’s cock against his insides made him feel like he was melting, a pool of liquid pleasure that was spreading down his thighs, up his belly, making his stomach tense and his cock jerk wildly.
Sam took pity on him then, chasing his own climax for real now, his big strong fingers wrapping around Dean’s cock and jerking him in time to the thrust of Sam’s dick in his ass. Dean gasped in a harsh breath and then went rigid all over, unable to move, unable to breathe, all of him caught up in what felt like the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. It went on and on, every movement of Sam’s hand or Sam’s hips driving more out of him, until the world went gray around the edges and he thought for sure he’d pass out and never hear the end of it from Sam.
Finally Sam gave out instead, letting go of Dean’s dick and stilling his hips and falling onto Dean with his full weight, grinding in deep as he climaxed. Dean’s hands and knees went out from under him entirely and they crashed to the sofa together, Dean frantically trying to catch his breath with his giant of a brother plastered to his back.
It took a while for Sam to notice that Dean was gasping like a fish out of water; he rolled off and sat bare-assed on the floor, panting himself.
“Jesus Christ,” Sam finally said.
Dean tried to answer, but he still didn’t have enough breath.
“You okay?” Sam asked, and he looked genuinely a little worried.
Dean nodded, then shook his head, then managed to bring one hand out from under him to bat at Sam in retaliation.
Sam grinned, and definitely did not look repentant in the least.
Dean thought he really was passing out then, as the whole room went blindingly bright for a second. He closed his eyes instinctively and when he opened them again, Chuck was standing there on the other side of the room. Castiel appeared a second later, his jaw dropping first at Chuck and then at the state that Sam and Dean were in.
Chuck was red faced. He looked…shit, he looked really angry. Even angrier than he had looked when he killed Jack and sent him off to the Empty.
“Really?” Chuck demanded. “This is what you do with that precious free will you wanted so badly? You try to ruin everything I made you into just so you can fuck your brother? Your own brother?”
Sam, still gloriously naked, had turned to face Chuck, but he was still sitting on the floor. His chin was up as he stared at Chuck though, and Dean could read only defiance in his expression. “Guess so,” Sam said.
Dean loved his little brother so much.
Chuck got even more red, and Dean could see his fists clenching. He thought about moving in front of Sam to try to protect him, but it was a fleeting impulse that he knew was futile. If Chuck was going to obliterate them, at least they’d be going together – and after having the most incredible sex ever.
“You disgust me,” Chuck spit, shaking his head and trying to look very judgmental.
Dean shrugged, as much as was possible while still lying on a very wet and disgusting couch. “Sucks to be you.”
Chuck just shook his head again, then waved his hand dismissively. “You know what?” he said, voice dripping with derision. “You don’t matter – it doesn’t matter what you do. Have at it, be as perverse as you want, I have a whole universe to play with.”
Dean didn’t dare to hope that meant Chuck was actually leaving them. He reached down and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, and Sam laid his own hand over Dean’s
Chuck raised his hand to snap, and Dean prepared himself for oblivion.
“You’re not my favorites any more,” Chuck said, and then he was gone.
Dean blinked.
Sam was still there. He could feel his hand on Sam’s shoulder, Sam’s hand curled over his.
Across the room, Cas let out the breath he’d been holding.
“Is he – is he gone?” Cas asked tentatively.
Sam got up then, and pulled Dean up with him.
“I – I think so?” Sam answered, looking around the room suspiciously.
“Did he really think that was gonna break our hearts, that we’re not his favorites anymore? Is that his big revenge on us?”
Dean was incredulous. But wasn’t that just like Chuck. All that hubris got in the way of thinking clearly.
Cas opened the front door and looked out, then closed it and came back into the living room to face the two naked Winchesters.
“Looks the same,” he reported. “But I sense something is different…something’s changed.”
Cas rubbed at his temples, then looked up. His eyes were wide, strikingly blue as he stared at Sam and Dean. “I could be wrong, but I think – I think it might be Jack. In this world again.”
It was the first time Castiel had looked truly alive in months. Dean understood; he gave Cas an encouraging smile. “If he is, we’ll find him, Cas.”
Castiel actually managed an almost-smile in return. “I think the hell door is still open. That much hasn’t changed.”
Sam nodded. He was still holding onto Dean’s hand. “I can deal with that,” he said after a pause. “As long as we’re making our own decisions. As long as what we’re doing matters again.”
Dean nodded too. Sam squeezed his hand before he let go and started gathering up his discarded clothes.
Castiel raised an eyebrow at the state of the room – and of them. “Whatever you did, it must have made quite an impression on Chuck.”
Sam honest to god smirked. “Chuck wasn’t the only one,” he said, casting a pointed look at Dean, and Dean had the good sense to blush.
“I don’t know why you waited so long to do it then,” Cas complained, and Dean couldn’t suppress a laugh. Their angel friend was pissed that they hadn’t given in to their passionate incestuous love sooner and Sam was actually bragging about how thoroughly he’d fucked Dean and Chuck was gone perhaps for good and Jack might be back and Dean couldn’t think of a single reason why he shouldn’t be celebrating.
“Drinks on me,” he said, pulling on his pants. “And don’t worry, Cas, Sammy and I won’t make that mistake again. After all, gotta make sure Chuck stays away.”
“Probably need to keep it up forever,” Castiel agreed.
“Sounds good to me,” Dean said, and caught Sam’s eye. He was smiling.
Fin
x
Author:
runedgirlArtist:
a_biting_smilePairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 6360
Sam made a startled noise and didn’t reciprocate, and Dean kissed him harder, holding Sam pressed close to him as he moved his mouth against Sam’s closed lips. It felt incredibly awkward; Dean couldn’t ever remember kissing someone who didn’t kiss back even a tiny bit.
He pulled back long enough to look up and address Chuck again.
“Like that, Chuck? Bet you never saw that one coming, did you? Didn’t set that up to happen, huh? You not likin’ what you see, Chuck? Turning your stomach a little to see what I’d really like to do to Sammy?”
“Dean,” Sam murmured from where he was still held tight in Dean’s arms, his face only inches away.
“I’ll stop if you want me to,” Dean said, because this wasn’t about hurting Sam, and while there had been times that Dean had been convinced that Sam felt the same way he did, he’d never been certain and that meant he’d never considered trying.
Sam stared at him a while longer, his eyes almost crossing they were so close, and then dove in and pressed his lips to Dean’s so roughly that it hurt.
Dean opened up and Sam’s tongue pushed in deep and then Dean forgot all about Chuck and why they were doing this in the first place as they kissed each other like they’d never get enough.
“I did not see that as a possibility,” Castiel said from across the room. “You’re brothers.”
Sam broke the kiss and stepped back just slightly, looking at Cas over Dean’s shoulder.
“Well duh,” Dean said, and turned his head to see Castiel’s expression. The angel looked surprised, but not like he was gonna lose his metaphorical lunch.
“Sorry, Cas,” Sam said. “We didn’t mean to make you watch that.”
Cas shrugged. “If it’s upsetting Chuck to watch, then by all means continue. I have some things to do to get ready to leave tomorrow.”
And with that he was gone.
Sam pulled Dean back in none too gently.
“Hey hey, take it easy Tarzan,” Dean grumbled, but there were butterflies in his belly at being manhandled because Sam wanted him there.
“I don’t think you mean that,” Sam said, and the trace of a smile crossed his handsome face, and Dean flushed with sudden heat at the truth of that statement.
“Should we go to the bedroom?” he asked, but Sam just shook his head and wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and set his mouth to Dean’s once again.
“I think we should make this as kinky as we want,” Sam growled in his ear when they broke apart. “I can think of all kinds of things I wanna do to you that might make Chuck want to stab his eyeballs out.”
“Sammy,” Dean gasped, goosebumps racing over his skin as Sam’s teeth scraped the sensitive spot behind his ear. “I get all tingly when you take control like that.”
Sam laughed then, and Dean could feel the rumble of it all through his body.
“Good,” Sam said, and pushed Dean towards the couch. He half sat half fell onto it, and Sam hovered over him, looking ten feet tall and strong as an ox.
“Take your clothes off, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean stifled a whimper. He struggled to kick off boots and jeans, pushed his shirts over his head.
Sam watched him the whole time, cat eyes narrowed and assessing. Dean felt like a slab of meat on a butcher block, Sam’s gaze like a physical thing. He felt his nipples peak, his cock harden in his shorts.
Sam stripped then, slowly like he wanted to make it a striptease for Dean. And Dean knew what his little brother looked like, of course he did, but being able to skate his eyes all over the dips and planes of Sam’s powerful body was new. He had to wet his lips with his tongue because he was breathing so hard by the time Sam was done, naked except for his own boxer briefs, the front distorted by the swell of Sam's dick already half erect.
“Fuck Sam, you’re fucking gorgeous,” Dean said, because why not? The wrongness of it made his cock twitch, made him flush all over with a heady mix of shame and arousal.
Sam smiled like a predator and slipped his fingers beneath the waist of his shorts, slowly slid them down his slim hips. “And you look like the most forbidden wet dream ever.”
“Jesus,” Dean groaned, blood rushing to his dick so quickly it was uncomfortable. “Are we trying to say the dirtiest things we can think of to each other because that will make Chuck sick or because we just wanna say the dirtiest things we can think of to each other?”
“Both?” Sam answered, and stepped out of his shorts. Dean stared at his brother, at the hair sparse on his chest between his dark pink nipples and thick around his dark pink cock. He blushed deeper, but pushed the shame away – Chuck didn’t want them to lust after each other? Too damn bad. Giving into this in spite of Chuck was like the most potent aphrodisiac ever, and Dean was determined to take this as far as he possibly could.
“Works for me,” Dean agreed, and pushed his own shorts down, lifting his hips to slide them off.
“Fuck,” Sam swore, his gaze on Dean’s bared body as hungry as Dean’s had been. “Do you have any idea what you look like? How hard it’s been sometimes to just not look?”
The confirmation that Sam had fought off the same sort of forbidden thoughts that he had over the years emboldened Dean even more.
He grinned, and the look on Sam’s face let him know that it was every bit as lecherous as he intended.
“So I guess ol’ Chuck wasn’t pulling the strings quite as well as he thought, was he? Don’t think this was in the script, two brothers wanting to jump each other’s bones. Guess we weren’t quite sticking to Chuck’s grand plan as much as he thought, were we, Sammy?”
Sam’s smile matched Dean’s in both genuine joy at subverting that asshole Chuck and in acknowledging just how off the track this thing they were doing was. Dean felt a burst of pride for his little brother, misplaced though it might have been.
“And I guess you’re not as vanilla as I thought,” he added, watching Sam’s dick plump up even more.
“Afraid not,” Sam said, and licked his lips. He looked up once more before turning all his attention back to Dean sprawled out on the sofa. “Better look away, Chuck, you hypocritical asshole,” Sam growled. “Or you may see your little darlings doing something you don’t like.”
And then Sam was climbing onto the sofa and straddling Dean’s hips and leaning down to kiss him again, no holds barred as his tongue pushed inside in an unmistakable claiming. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s broad back, bucked his hips up to meet Sam’s, and when their dicks made contact Sam broke away to groan and then thrust down so roughly that Dean felt like he’d sink right into the old foam couch.
“Yeah,” he said anyway, hands sliding lower, across the sweat-slick skin of Sam’s back. He grabbed Sam’s ass with both hands and encouraged him to keep going, raising his own hips as much as he could to help. Having Sam on top of him was winding Dean up more than he’d probably ever admit, but Sam seemed to know it, his full weight and the sheer bulk of his broader shoulders making Dean feel entirely owned. Maybe he’d never thought about it in this way, but there was nothing Dean wanted more.
Suddenly Sam stopped moving and then abruptly sat up, climbing off the couch and pausing there on his knees, grimacing.
“Sammy?”
Dean didn’t want to think that maybe Sam had changed his mind after all.
“Ahh,” Sam said, a strangled sound, and reached down to grip the base of his dick. “Shut up for a second, Dean, I don’t want this to be over so fast.”
Sam had his eyes screwed shut, and Dean nearly lost it himself knowing that his brother was so turned on. He obediently lay still and forced himself to be quiet while Sam got himself under control.
“Jesus,” Sam said when he opened his eyes again. “I never thought it would be – Christ, Dean, it’s so good…”
Dean forced a pretend pout, while inside he wanted Sam to keep talking like this forever. “What’d you expect, Sammy? Of course it’s good, it’s me!”
His humor worked; Sam got annoyed and amused at the same time and that allowed him to take his hands off his dick and put them back on Dean.
“Think you’re the only one who can drive someone crazy?” Sam said, half threat and half promise. “I’m gonna make you scream, Dean. Chuck won’t be able to drown out the sound of you begging for my cock no matter how hard he tries.”
That image alone was enough to make Dean have to start writing grocery lists in his head. It didn’t help at all when Sam stood up and loomed over him, then grabbed him by the hips and flipped him over to his belly on the couch.
“Whoa,” Dean said, because it was expected, but the ease with which Sam manhandled him into position had him nearly going off without a hand on his dick. Sam lifted his hips and put him on his knees, and then Dean stopped being able to think at all because Sam forced his cheeks apart with those huge hands and started licking Dean open.
The sound Dean made when that happened was entirely involuntary, and Dean tried frantically to make it a one time thing, but Sam was turning him inside out with his tongue and Dean was so astounded that Sam would do that, he couldn’t even process it. He had a fleeting image of Chuck trying to cover both his eyes and his ears simultaneously, and then Sam stopped doing what he was doing and the sound Dean made then was even worse.
“Hang on, I gotta get something,” Sam said, and slapped Dean on one cheek for reassurance.
Dean had a few minutes to calm down enough to think about how he must look, balanced on hands and knees on some ratty overstuffed couch with his bare ass up in the air, probably glistening with Sam’s spit. He hoped whatever things Castiel had to do were going to take a while.
“Got it,” Sam said, and Dean watched him stride confidently back over to the sofa, hard cock bobbing as he walked and lube in his hand. That misplaced pride washed over Dean again; Sammy was a boy scout and Dean had taught him that better than any scoutmaster could have. Not that any of them would have taught him specifically this…
“Fuckin’ boy scout,” he said, and Sam grinned. Then his oh-so-talented tongue was back at it and Dean stopped speaking in actual words when Sam’s slick finger pushed in too. Sam and his fuckin’ long fingers and big hands, Dean thought, as Sam kept poking around until he found the spot that would make Dean lose the ability to think along with the ability to make words.
“Don’t you dare come,” Sam said when he had to rest his tongue. “I wanna hear you beg and I want Chuck to fuckin’ hear it too. So come on, Dean, lemme hear you!”
With that he shoved another finger in and moved them just right and Dean just gave in to what his body wanted to do anyway. He mewled every time Sam went deep and sobbed every time Sam almost took those magic fingers out, and rolled his hips back for more again and again.
“Yeah,” Sam encouraged, and gave his ass a few hard slaps for emphasis, “Show me how bad you want it – from your little brother. Show me, Dean, goddammit.”
The tiny part of Dean’s brain that was still working was amused by how much Sam was getting off on the most taboo part of what they were doing. He groaned and gave Sam what he wanted.
“Come on little brother, need more,” he pleaded, and Sam must have had three in him now, the burn like fire but the arousal stoked so high it just felt like pleasure almost too intense to bear. “Give it to me, Sammy, gimme your big hard cock, come the fuck on, need it, need it so bad.”
He’d be embarrassed about the bad porn dialogue later – maybe – but right now his dirty words had the effect on Sam that he was hoping for (and hopefully the effect on Chuck he imagined too). Sam choked back a grunt and pulled his fingers out too fast, but before Dean could make a sound he felt the slick head of Sam’s cock try to push inside. Sam’s giant hands held his hips in place like a vise, and Dean spread his legs as wide as he could to help, and after a few frustrating attempts, Sam finally slid inside him.
They both made noise then, Dean a gasp and Sam a grunt, and then it was like they fell into the familiar feeling of each other’s bodies moving together. It was like sparring, knowing just how far they could push each other, how far to bend, how hard to grip, how to lean away when the other leaned in. It was like wrestling, some touches to conquer, master, win; and it was like stitching each other up and calming each other down too, some touches to soothe and reassure and encourage, to bring pleasure instead of pain. The smell of Sam, the feel of Sam, the strength in his hands and the anchoring presence of him above and around and inside, it all felt right, and Dean gave himself over to all of it, all of him to Sam.
“Please, let me, need to,” he found himself pleading. He could feel his swollen dick swaying between his thighs untouched, just the movement bringing stabs of pleasure, and the near constant pressure of Sam’s cock against his insides made him feel like he was melting, a pool of liquid pleasure that was spreading down his thighs, up his belly, making his stomach tense and his cock jerk wildly.
Sam took pity on him then, chasing his own climax for real now, his big strong fingers wrapping around Dean’s cock and jerking him in time to the thrust of Sam’s dick in his ass. Dean gasped in a harsh breath and then went rigid all over, unable to move, unable to breathe, all of him caught up in what felt like the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. It went on and on, every movement of Sam’s hand or Sam’s hips driving more out of him, until the world went gray around the edges and he thought for sure he’d pass out and never hear the end of it from Sam.
Finally Sam gave out instead, letting go of Dean’s dick and stilling his hips and falling onto Dean with his full weight, grinding in deep as he climaxed. Dean’s hands and knees went out from under him entirely and they crashed to the sofa together, Dean frantically trying to catch his breath with his giant of a brother plastered to his back.
It took a while for Sam to notice that Dean was gasping like a fish out of water; he rolled off and sat bare-assed on the floor, panting himself.
“Jesus Christ,” Sam finally said.
Dean tried to answer, but he still didn’t have enough breath.
“You okay?” Sam asked, and he looked genuinely a little worried.
Dean nodded, then shook his head, then managed to bring one hand out from under him to bat at Sam in retaliation.
Sam grinned, and definitely did not look repentant in the least.
Dean thought he really was passing out then, as the whole room went blindingly bright for a second. He closed his eyes instinctively and when he opened them again, Chuck was standing there on the other side of the room. Castiel appeared a second later, his jaw dropping first at Chuck and then at the state that Sam and Dean were in.
Chuck was red faced. He looked…shit, he looked really angry. Even angrier than he had looked when he killed Jack and sent him off to the Empty.
“Really?” Chuck demanded. “This is what you do with that precious free will you wanted so badly? You try to ruin everything I made you into just so you can fuck your brother? Your own brother?”
Sam, still gloriously naked, had turned to face Chuck, but he was still sitting on the floor. His chin was up as he stared at Chuck though, and Dean could read only defiance in his expression. “Guess so,” Sam said.
Dean loved his little brother so much.
Chuck got even more red, and Dean could see his fists clenching. He thought about moving in front of Sam to try to protect him, but it was a fleeting impulse that he knew was futile. If Chuck was going to obliterate them, at least they’d be going together – and after having the most incredible sex ever.
“You disgust me,” Chuck spit, shaking his head and trying to look very judgmental.
Dean shrugged, as much as was possible while still lying on a very wet and disgusting couch. “Sucks to be you.”
Chuck just shook his head again, then waved his hand dismissively. “You know what?” he said, voice dripping with derision. “You don’t matter – it doesn’t matter what you do. Have at it, be as perverse as you want, I have a whole universe to play with.”
Dean didn’t dare to hope that meant Chuck was actually leaving them. He reached down and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, and Sam laid his own hand over Dean’s
Chuck raised his hand to snap, and Dean prepared himself for oblivion.
“You’re not my favorites any more,” Chuck said, and then he was gone.
Dean blinked.
Sam was still there. He could feel his hand on Sam’s shoulder, Sam’s hand curled over his.
Across the room, Cas let out the breath he’d been holding.
“Is he – is he gone?” Cas asked tentatively.
Sam got up then, and pulled Dean up with him.
“I – I think so?” Sam answered, looking around the room suspiciously.
“Did he really think that was gonna break our hearts, that we’re not his favorites anymore? Is that his big revenge on us?”
Dean was incredulous. But wasn’t that just like Chuck. All that hubris got in the way of thinking clearly.
Cas opened the front door and looked out, then closed it and came back into the living room to face the two naked Winchesters.
“Looks the same,” he reported. “But I sense something is different…something’s changed.”
Cas rubbed at his temples, then looked up. His eyes were wide, strikingly blue as he stared at Sam and Dean. “I could be wrong, but I think – I think it might be Jack. In this world again.”
It was the first time Castiel had looked truly alive in months. Dean understood; he gave Cas an encouraging smile. “If he is, we’ll find him, Cas.”
Castiel actually managed an almost-smile in return. “I think the hell door is still open. That much hasn’t changed.”
Sam nodded. He was still holding onto Dean’s hand. “I can deal with that,” he said after a pause. “As long as we’re making our own decisions. As long as what we’re doing matters again.”
Dean nodded too. Sam squeezed his hand before he let go and started gathering up his discarded clothes.
Castiel raised an eyebrow at the state of the room – and of them. “Whatever you did, it must have made quite an impression on Chuck.”
Sam honest to god smirked. “Chuck wasn’t the only one,” he said, casting a pointed look at Dean, and Dean had the good sense to blush.
“I don’t know why you waited so long to do it then,” Cas complained, and Dean couldn’t suppress a laugh. Their angel friend was pissed that they hadn’t given in to their passionate incestuous love sooner and Sam was actually bragging about how thoroughly he’d fucked Dean and Chuck was gone perhaps for good and Jack might be back and Dean couldn’t think of a single reason why he shouldn’t be celebrating.
“Drinks on me,” he said, pulling on his pants. “And don’t worry, Cas, Sammy and I won’t make that mistake again. After all, gotta make sure Chuck stays away.”
“Probably need to keep it up forever,” Castiel agreed.
“Sounds good to me,” Dean said, and caught Sam’s eye. He was smiling.
Fin
x
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Date: 2020-03-06 03:18 pm (UTC)My very favorite is when Castiel sees or finds out about Wincest and is like "eh, fine, ok, whatever".
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Date: 2020-03-10 12:23 am (UTC)