Fic post:SpN Lately
5/4/07 11:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyfic post:SpN
Title:Lately
Fandom:SpN
Pairing: The Sexy Boys
Rating:4 (and in case you’re wondering, the rating system is on my profile page)
Summary: This is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mkitty_03's PWP, 'cause I lub her.
A/N: any glaring mistakes of logic and sense are mine, God knowsmecurtin is doing her best to save me. Thanks so much, my dear!
Dad’s been gone for two days.
He’s making dinner—mac and cheese and hamburger, and because he’s been watching the cooking channel, slices up a tomato on the side. Festive, and also healthy. He pours a glass of milk for both of them, and calls Sam to dinner.
Calls. Calls again.
“Yo, Sammy, I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing. Get your narrow butt out here.”
“…Dean.”
“What?” He’s moving toward the bedroom already, trying to keep the scowl in place, ready to yell.
The room’s dark, because the shades are drawn, the curtains pulled. Sam’s sitting with his back to the headboard, wearing boxers.
Blue boxers, and the sheets are blue. Sam’s making a little come here motion with his hand.
There’s no way he can move. He’s not ready. Not ready for this. This is bad.
If he steps over the line, it’s not ever going to be the same. Even though he said yes, there’s no way he can ever be ready for this.
One step…another. Another. Sam looks so patient. Waiting. How did he get to be so good at waiting?
Another, and his throat is closing, and sweat prickles his lip…his eyes flutter. It’s painful to take another step, but he does and his knees are hitting the bed.
“Okay…” The voice doesn’t sound like his. It’s dry and dusty like--like a mummy’s voice. Wonder if mummies really can …
“Dean? Are you here with me?”
*Nod, do something move* “…Uh-hunh…”
Drops to the bed because his knees give way, and Sam pulls him close, kind of drags him really. Sam grabs his calves, wraps his legs around his skinny boxer covered waist. Stops him when he goes to pull his shirt over his head.
“No, let me do it.” Sam unbuttons each fucking button on his shirt like it’s a fucking test. Slow and careful, and pulls the shirt open even slower. Fingertips slide over his nipples—they’re tingling and stiff before Sam even gets there. He jumps when the cool pads of his fingers graze them.
He’s got his eyes closed. His hands are fisted, and he’s got them pressed against his belly. It’s stupid—like he’s trying to protect himself or something. Sam snorts quietly, “come on…” manages to pull one of his hands away. He’s surprised how slowly gently, he does it.
Sam whispers in his ear, “Don’t you want to touch me?” and suddenly his hand is pressed over the incredibly hot, hard cock straining up in Sam’s boxers.
It’s like his fingers grip by instinct, squeezing, wrapping best they can with all that material in the way. They both groan, they both flex, him against his leg and Sam in his hand--he keeps his eyes closed because if he looked, he’d probably chicken out, or—or faint or—come right away, and at the moment, any of those seem like terrible things to happen….
Sam’s mouth opens against his ear, and he says very carefully, “Feel that? That’s yours, for you…I want to touch you too.” There’s a wet mouth dragging down his neck, and across his chest, over his nipples, teeth nip and pinch—tongue, scrubbing, soothing…he’s so hard, it hurts. “Sam!”
He feels the button on his jeans being worked open, and the zipper being teased down, he feels Sam’s touch, warm, rough fingertips rubbing his belly, catching in his hair. Stopping just at the base of his cock and fuck, he *knew* Sam would be a horrible fucking tease in bed too….
Warm breath leaks out of him, he can’t stop sighing…it’s just like being in a dream, the kind where he has no control--he’s just laying back like a bitch and taking it, letting Sam call the shots, letting him be in charge…never ever thought Sam being the one in control would be so fuckin’ hot. It’s—it’s incredible. He feels hot and loopy--like being dipped in warm taffy, and all his muscles unlock, melt. Sam moves him like a doll, strips him, positions him, touches him where he wants to, how he wants to and it’s all good…
Sam’s sucking a trail from his breastbone to his cock. His cock is jumping with every tiny nibbling kiss laid on it. His eyes fly open when Sam takes him in hand, holds his cock so the head fills his palm…then traces over the tip with the index finger of his free hand. That feels—so damn good—he opens his mouth to beg for more and Sam swirls precome around and very deliberately licks his finger clean, eyes locked on his. Sam’s tasting him—shit--his cock is jumping up and begging, and he’s dizzy, feels like he’s falling into Sam’s eyes.
“Should I—should I put it in my mouth?” Sam asks, so sweetly tentative, so at odds with the seducer he’s been, that he wonders if it’s part of the game—and he doesn’t even care.* ‘should I put it in my mouth’…let me think about that…* “Oh God...”
Sam snickers a little breathelssy…
“Oh, you’re an *asshole* Sam—yes, fuck yes,” he’s almost yelping, and nodding frantically, and when Sam does just that, it makes him cry out quietly. He turns his face to the pillow and gives up. Gives in.
This is it. The beginning of a dream, finally come true…the moment he’s wanted , fantasized about and now that it’s happening he can admit it—he’s built it up in his mind--into something so earth shattering, incredible, amazing and perfect, that real life can’t begin to be a fraction of how good he’s dreamt it—and it’s not.
It’s so much more. It’s fucking unbelievable. It’s so incredible he makes Sam stop. He pushes him away. “If you don’t stop now, I’ll come in your mouth.” Just saying that makes his hips come off the bed, makes his cock jump.
Sam crawls up his body and when their cocks touch and drag against each other he yells, and they both laugh.
It’s the laugh that does it—suddenly it’s like all the walls topple, fall--there’s nothing between them now, except skin. They roll against each other, they’re licking and sucking and biting anything that gets in the way, and laughing…telling each other how wonderful and beautiful, how hot, how hard, so…
Miraculous.
Miracle.
He’s falling and before he falls completely, there’s this one moment—he’s got this one moment in which time freezes, and he sees himself sitting on the front step with his brother, ruffling his hair, explaining that this—this sex stuff was private stuff, and a big old door should be kept between them on that, and that all this weird stuff he was feeling was natural and normal, but just raging teen hormones and they were just stuck together too often, don’t worry, he’d get over it…
but that’s not happening in this universe… “Sam, Sam….”
“Dean…” Sam lifts his legs. “Dean.” Drops them over his shoulders. “Dean.” He’s pushing in, and it hurts…it feels so good. And hurts, and feels good, and his head whips back and forth...it’s like being on fire from the inside, and the gritty burn begins to ease until it's like…velvet , smooth as cream, hot and there’s this—jolt—this electric explosion.
No one else is home so it’s okay to scream….
Sam is hanging over him, and he looks stunned. His mouth is round, perfectly o shaped—*my cock was right there, on his tongue.* Sam’s eyes are wide and black and suddenly, they flood with tears, his mouth widens, he grits his teeth and throws his head back. Sam groan faster and faster until he’s screaming—but low, so low and harsh, it’s gotta hurt.
His brother’s fucking him. His brother’s cock his hands his mouth his spit his sweat…his come….
He feels heat—feels Sam’s come inside him, feels his own spilling between them, bellies wet with sweat and come sliding against each other panting, ribs swelling and flattening…it’s over.
Opens his eyes and feels like he’s dropped a million miles, like he’s fallen into a dream of heaven, like he’s king of the world…can’t help laughing at how beat up he feels, and it feels so fucking—“Awesome.”
Sam snickers against his shoulder, and he sticks a hand between their heaving bellies and pulls it out, curious…in awe. Pearly fluid webs his fingers, clings before reluctantly dripping down his palm…it’s him, and his brother, together, mixed up, combined…he licks his palm and Sam moans, tightens the arms around his neck and he’s moaning in his ear, “I love you, Dean, I love you, never…never…”
And he says back, “I’ll never leave you either, promise.” He’s happy, for once, really just…happy. Alive. Content. Having sex with someone you love is. Fucking. Amazing. He’s so fucking happy.
They fuck some more, they rest, they eat, they fuck some more. The room is thick with the smell of seat and come, thick with the smell of them, their heat…they shower, and fuck in the shower, and it’s the best motherfucking use of water, ever.
Sometime around the next afternoon, he wakes up, with a song in his heart and a smile on his lips. Shit. It *was* just that simple. Sam was right—nothing’s changed and there’s just this extra thing, this incredible extra thing--they have another way to say I love you and it’s fucking incredible and the world is still outside the window. The sun still came up, the birds are still singing, fuckin’ kids are still outside screaming their brains out….there’s no flaming pit opening under the bed, no lightning strikes.
His ass feels like it got sandpapered—it’s is sore as hell and he moves just because he wants to feel it hurt and he can’t stop grinning.
Sam’s in the shower, so he kicks the sheets off and strokes himself until he’s hard again and lays back, smirking, waiting.
Sam’s standing in the doorway, head down, toweling his hair.
“Hey…”
“Hey.” His head’s down, and his eyes, they glance over and slide away.
It doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to tell what’s going on here, and he knows Sam like no one else in the world. His gut is already freezing but he smiles. “Come here, Sam. Lay down with me.”
Nods, head still down, eyes still dancing away but he drops the towel and he’s right there, spread over the sheets and on him. He makes Sam look at him, trying to keep the grip on his chin gentle…and he sees it, deep in is eyes. He can see it, and it’s not fair, because he didn’t do it. He would never have done it…he didn’t ask for it, Sam did, and now Sam’s got this look—looking at him like he’s Sam’s Terrible Horrible Mistake…
*oh no. no.* “Hey, you okay?” *please don’t* “You all right?”
“Oh, yeah, better than all right—I’m great.” Sam closes his eyes and wraps himself around his neck and legs. The fuzz that’s been making Sam’s chin look dirty scrapes along his cheek.
“You need a shave,” Sam says and he *sounds* okay…
“Yeah, you too…” Maybe he misread—maybe *he’s* the one freaking, not Sam…reading something into nothing….
“You know I love you right?”
“Yeah, ‘course. I love you too. Sam?”
“Uhmm?”
“I *really* love you. I mean, with everything, y’know?”
“’Course I do. Me too, Dean.”
He heaves a sigh. “Yeah. I know that.”
TBC
Title:Lately
Fandom:SpN
Pairing: The Sexy Boys
Rating:4 (and in case you’re wondering, the rating system is on my profile page)
Summary: This is
mkitty_03's PWP, 'cause I lub her.A/N: any glaring mistakes of logic and sense are mine, God knows
mecurtin is doing her best to save me. Thanks so much, my dear! Dad’s been gone for two days.
He’s making dinner—mac and cheese and hamburger, and because he’s been watching the cooking channel, slices up a tomato on the side. Festive, and also healthy. He pours a glass of milk for both of them, and calls Sam to dinner.
Calls. Calls again.
“Yo, Sammy, I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing. Get your narrow butt out here.”
“…Dean.”
“What?” He’s moving toward the bedroom already, trying to keep the scowl in place, ready to yell.
The room’s dark, because the shades are drawn, the curtains pulled. Sam’s sitting with his back to the headboard, wearing boxers.
Blue boxers, and the sheets are blue. Sam’s making a little come here motion with his hand.
There’s no way he can move. He’s not ready. Not ready for this. This is bad.
If he steps over the line, it’s not ever going to be the same. Even though he said yes, there’s no way he can ever be ready for this.
One step…another. Another. Sam looks so patient. Waiting. How did he get to be so good at waiting?
Another, and his throat is closing, and sweat prickles his lip…his eyes flutter. It’s painful to take another step, but he does and his knees are hitting the bed.
“Okay…” The voice doesn’t sound like his. It’s dry and dusty like--like a mummy’s voice. Wonder if mummies really can …
“Dean? Are you here with me?”
*Nod, do something move* “…Uh-hunh…”
Drops to the bed because his knees give way, and Sam pulls him close, kind of drags him really. Sam grabs his calves, wraps his legs around his skinny boxer covered waist. Stops him when he goes to pull his shirt over his head.
“No, let me do it.” Sam unbuttons each fucking button on his shirt like it’s a fucking test. Slow and careful, and pulls the shirt open even slower. Fingertips slide over his nipples—they’re tingling and stiff before Sam even gets there. He jumps when the cool pads of his fingers graze them.
He’s got his eyes closed. His hands are fisted, and he’s got them pressed against his belly. It’s stupid—like he’s trying to protect himself or something. Sam snorts quietly, “come on…” manages to pull one of his hands away. He’s surprised how slowly gently, he does it.
Sam whispers in his ear, “Don’t you want to touch me?” and suddenly his hand is pressed over the incredibly hot, hard cock straining up in Sam’s boxers.
It’s like his fingers grip by instinct, squeezing, wrapping best they can with all that material in the way. They both groan, they both flex, him against his leg and Sam in his hand--he keeps his eyes closed because if he looked, he’d probably chicken out, or—or faint or—come right away, and at the moment, any of those seem like terrible things to happen….
Sam’s mouth opens against his ear, and he says very carefully, “Feel that? That’s yours, for you…I want to touch you too.” There’s a wet mouth dragging down his neck, and across his chest, over his nipples, teeth nip and pinch—tongue, scrubbing, soothing…he’s so hard, it hurts. “Sam!”
He feels the button on his jeans being worked open, and the zipper being teased down, he feels Sam’s touch, warm, rough fingertips rubbing his belly, catching in his hair. Stopping just at the base of his cock and fuck, he *knew* Sam would be a horrible fucking tease in bed too….
Warm breath leaks out of him, he can’t stop sighing…it’s just like being in a dream, the kind where he has no control--he’s just laying back like a bitch and taking it, letting Sam call the shots, letting him be in charge…never ever thought Sam being the one in control would be so fuckin’ hot. It’s—it’s incredible. He feels hot and loopy--like being dipped in warm taffy, and all his muscles unlock, melt. Sam moves him like a doll, strips him, positions him, touches him where he wants to, how he wants to and it’s all good…
Sam’s sucking a trail from his breastbone to his cock. His cock is jumping with every tiny nibbling kiss laid on it. His eyes fly open when Sam takes him in hand, holds his cock so the head fills his palm…then traces over the tip with the index finger of his free hand. That feels—so damn good—he opens his mouth to beg for more and Sam swirls precome around and very deliberately licks his finger clean, eyes locked on his. Sam’s tasting him—shit--his cock is jumping up and begging, and he’s dizzy, feels like he’s falling into Sam’s eyes.
“Should I—should I put it in my mouth?” Sam asks, so sweetly tentative, so at odds with the seducer he’s been, that he wonders if it’s part of the game—and he doesn’t even care.* ‘should I put it in my mouth’…let me think about that…* “Oh God...”
Sam snickers a little breathelssy…
“Oh, you’re an *asshole* Sam—yes, fuck yes,” he’s almost yelping, and nodding frantically, and when Sam does just that, it makes him cry out quietly. He turns his face to the pillow and gives up. Gives in.
This is it. The beginning of a dream, finally come true…the moment he’s wanted , fantasized about and now that it’s happening he can admit it—he’s built it up in his mind--into something so earth shattering, incredible, amazing and perfect, that real life can’t begin to be a fraction of how good he’s dreamt it—and it’s not.
It’s so much more. It’s fucking unbelievable. It’s so incredible he makes Sam stop. He pushes him away. “If you don’t stop now, I’ll come in your mouth.” Just saying that makes his hips come off the bed, makes his cock jump.
Sam crawls up his body and when their cocks touch and drag against each other he yells, and they both laugh.
It’s the laugh that does it—suddenly it’s like all the walls topple, fall--there’s nothing between them now, except skin. They roll against each other, they’re licking and sucking and biting anything that gets in the way, and laughing…telling each other how wonderful and beautiful, how hot, how hard, so…
Miraculous.
Miracle.
He’s falling and before he falls completely, there’s this one moment—he’s got this one moment in which time freezes, and he sees himself sitting on the front step with his brother, ruffling his hair, explaining that this—this sex stuff was private stuff, and a big old door should be kept between them on that, and that all this weird stuff he was feeling was natural and normal, but just raging teen hormones and they were just stuck together too often, don’t worry, he’d get over it…
but that’s not happening in this universe… “Sam, Sam….”
“Dean…” Sam lifts his legs. “Dean.” Drops them over his shoulders. “Dean.” He’s pushing in, and it hurts…it feels so good. And hurts, and feels good, and his head whips back and forth...it’s like being on fire from the inside, and the gritty burn begins to ease until it's like…velvet , smooth as cream, hot and there’s this—jolt—this electric explosion.
No one else is home so it’s okay to scream….
Sam is hanging over him, and he looks stunned. His mouth is round, perfectly o shaped—*my cock was right there, on his tongue.* Sam’s eyes are wide and black and suddenly, they flood with tears, his mouth widens, he grits his teeth and throws his head back. Sam groan faster and faster until he’s screaming—but low, so low and harsh, it’s gotta hurt.
His brother’s fucking him. His brother’s cock his hands his mouth his spit his sweat…his come….
He feels heat—feels Sam’s come inside him, feels his own spilling between them, bellies wet with sweat and come sliding against each other panting, ribs swelling and flattening…it’s over.
Opens his eyes and feels like he’s dropped a million miles, like he’s fallen into a dream of heaven, like he’s king of the world…can’t help laughing at how beat up he feels, and it feels so fucking—“Awesome.”
Sam snickers against his shoulder, and he sticks a hand between their heaving bellies and pulls it out, curious…in awe. Pearly fluid webs his fingers, clings before reluctantly dripping down his palm…it’s him, and his brother, together, mixed up, combined…he licks his palm and Sam moans, tightens the arms around his neck and he’s moaning in his ear, “I love you, Dean, I love you, never…never…”
And he says back, “I’ll never leave you either, promise.” He’s happy, for once, really just…happy. Alive. Content. Having sex with someone you love is. Fucking. Amazing. He’s so fucking happy.
They fuck some more, they rest, they eat, they fuck some more. The room is thick with the smell of seat and come, thick with the smell of them, their heat…they shower, and fuck in the shower, and it’s the best motherfucking use of water, ever.
Sometime around the next afternoon, he wakes up, with a song in his heart and a smile on his lips. Shit. It *was* just that simple. Sam was right—nothing’s changed and there’s just this extra thing, this incredible extra thing--they have another way to say I love you and it’s fucking incredible and the world is still outside the window. The sun still came up, the birds are still singing, fuckin’ kids are still outside screaming their brains out….there’s no flaming pit opening under the bed, no lightning strikes.
His ass feels like it got sandpapered—it’s is sore as hell and he moves just because he wants to feel it hurt and he can’t stop grinning.
Sam’s in the shower, so he kicks the sheets off and strokes himself until he’s hard again and lays back, smirking, waiting.
Sam’s standing in the doorway, head down, toweling his hair.
“Hey…”
“Hey.” His head’s down, and his eyes, they glance over and slide away.
It doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to tell what’s going on here, and he knows Sam like no one else in the world. His gut is already freezing but he smiles. “Come here, Sam. Lay down with me.”
Nods, head still down, eyes still dancing away but he drops the towel and he’s right there, spread over the sheets and on him. He makes Sam look at him, trying to keep the grip on his chin gentle…and he sees it, deep in is eyes. He can see it, and it’s not fair, because he didn’t do it. He would never have done it…he didn’t ask for it, Sam did, and now Sam’s got this look—looking at him like he’s Sam’s Terrible Horrible Mistake…
*oh no. no.* “Hey, you okay?” *please don’t* “You all right?”
“Oh, yeah, better than all right—I’m great.” Sam closes his eyes and wraps himself around his neck and legs. The fuzz that’s been making Sam’s chin look dirty scrapes along his cheek.
“You need a shave,” Sam says and he *sounds* okay…
“Yeah, you too…” Maybe he misread—maybe *he’s* the one freaking, not Sam…reading something into nothing….
“You know I love you right?”
“Yeah, ‘course. I love you too. Sam?”
“Uhmm?”
“I *really* love you. I mean, with everything, y’know?”
“’Course I do. Me too, Dean.”
He heaves a sigh. “Yeah. I know that.”
TBC
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
5/5/07 04:04 am (UTC)I predict angst OH NOES!
In other news - HOTNESS. This was, umm, scorching. Yeah. I'm torn between wanting the angst next (you do it so well!) but also wishing they had more time to be of The Happy!
(no subject)
5/5/07 04:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/5/07 05:06 am (UTC)Damn this is hot.
(no subject)
5/6/07 12:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/5/07 10:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/6/07 12:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/5/07 02:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
5/6/07 12:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/5/07 03:31 pm (UTC)You are so damn evol it *hurts*!!!!
*flails around like a beached fish*
OMG! Happy, sexy bois and now...now...!!!11!!!
(no subject)
5/6/07 12:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/6/07 12:55 am (UTC)*snuggles you*
(no subject)
5/6/07 02:03 am (UTC)The intensity you maintained during this whole amazing piece of awesome Nggg it was perfect.
They fuck some more, they rest, they eat, they fuck some more. The room is thick with the smell of seat and come, thick with the smell of them, their heat…they shower, and fuck in the shower, and it’s the best motherfucking use of water, ever.
dadjflakjfldkasjflkadsjf YES. HOLYFUCKINGSMEXYES.
*dies*
(no subject)
5/6/07 02:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/16/07 10:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/16/07 01:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/3/07 02:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/3/07 05:53 pm (UTC)