028. Always Mine. [Dean/Sam]
Mar. 27th, 2009 01:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ofthesoundsTitle: Always Mine.
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ofthesounds
Fandom: Supernatural.
Characters: Dean & Sam Winchester.
Prompt: Possessive/jealous sex. Either Dean has to remind Sammy who he belongs to, or Sammy has to remind Dean that no matter what he thinks, Dean is just as much his.
Word Count: 1,549 words.
Rating: M; slash.
Summary: Dean reminds Sammy of who he belongs to after Dean catches him flirting in a bar with a girl who reminds him of Jess.
Author's Notes: This was written fordragon_lord. Happy (belated) birthday, babe.
Sam’s face shoved into the mattress and he could feel the metal wire beneath the thin, cheap sheets dig into his cheek. He told himself that the low groan that filled the air wasn’t from his mouth. Surely there was some other explanation for the sound.
“What’s your problem?” Dean’s voice growled out from behind him, and Sam could practically feel his brother shaking with what he thought was anger.
But... It was just one dance.
“Dean,” Sam gasped his brother’s name out, writhing between Dean’s legs. His knees were pressed to Sam’s hips, trying to hold him down to the bed. One hand in his hair, and Dean kept his other hand between his little brother’s shoulder blades.
The sun had barely gone down when they arrived in the small town of Boone, Iowa. Before, Dean would have made some kind of joke about Midwesterner’s daughters. Or finding one of those cute farm girls and showing her a good time.
Everything had changed, though; he thought that Sammy was on the same page as him. That’s what he thought, at least until he got to the bar and saw Sammy dancing with the tiny little blonde who looked (almost painfully) like Jess.
Dean practically saw red. His jaws instantly went tight and he grabbed Sammy by the coat to drag him out of the bar. He threw him into the Impala, and now they were back at their motel with the 1950’s wallpaper of forest green and sea foam green circles.
He didn’t even know where to start with Sammy, honestly. He thought about beating his ass raw, but no... He just wanted to remind Sammy that he couldn’t just ditch Dean and go off dancing with some blonde bitch whenever he wanted to. If Dean Winchester could change his ways, Sammy damn well better do it, too.
“Get up,” he growled as he moved off of the bed and stepped aside. Dean worked his belt open as Sam twisted on the bed and moved fluidly to his feet. He looked confused as he tilted his eyes down to look at Dean.
Without needing instructions, Sammy started stripping down. His large brown coat was already across the room, flung over the television as soon as they had entered the room. His pale red hoodie came off next, followed by his regular tee shirt. “I don’t know why you’re so mad,” he finally spoke up, and could feel the nerves nagging at the back of his throat.
Dean wasn’t mad at him, not really. He saw his ugly emotions for what they truly were; jealousy and possessiveness, followed by anger at himself for even being jealous. How could he tell his little brother that he was feeling possessive because Sammy was dancing with some bitch? Or that he was jealous because she looked an awful lot like Jess?
They shouldn’t be doing any of this, but Dean figured if he was going back to Hell in the end, any way, he’d damn sure do what he pleased while on earth.
“Shut up and strip down,” the words were spoken almost coldly through Dean’s tight lips. He was pleased when Sammy didn’t try to go all Dr. Phil on him. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with that shit.
The second that Sammy’s body was bare for him, Dean twisted him around and threw him down to the bed again. “If I thought I could get away with it, I’d fuck you without any lube you little shit,” Dean admitted, but was digging through the bag. Flicking the top of the lube open, he spilled some onto his throbbing cock before tossing the bottle away.
“Dean, I just --” Sam started to explain, to protest, to try to reason with his brother, even though he could tell that this probably wasn’t the best time for it.
He was right. Dean didn’t want to hear any of it.
Still, Sam wasn’t expecting Dean to just start pushing into him. Tonight Dean didn’t bother preparing him. Sam’s hands fisted into the sheets, his legs spreading out further to try to give his brother better positioning behind him.
As soon as he started moving, Dean’s hands clamped down roughly on his hips. He wanted to make sure that Sammy was bruised. He wanted to make sure that Sammy couldn’t walk the following day.
His large hands spread Sammy’s cheeks wide, his head tilted down to watch himself sink into him. He didn’t stop until he was fully inside Sammy, and even then his hips ground down, as if he was trying to get as deep as he possibly could.
Sam was writhing beneath him, gasping and moaning slightly against their bed sheets. His hips were shoved in the air at an angle, his legs spread so that Dean’s knees were resting on the inside of his own. “P-Please, please Dean...”
Fuck it all if Dean didn’t love hearing Sammy begging in that sweet tone. Slowly drawing his hips back, Dean made sure that Sammy felt his length and the slow burn the entire way out of him. He barely left the tip of his dick inside him. “Please what, Sammy?” He growled the words out.
Sammy whimpered. “Please, just fuck me,” he begged in a desperate tone.
“Why should I?” Dean’s hands slid away from Sammy’s hips, following the curve of his back muscles and up on to his shoulders, gripping them tightly.
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Sam didn’t want to answer the question. He knew what Dean wanted -- what he needed -- but the words always sounded so... Freakishly emotional, even for Sam. “P-please, Dean...” Sam groaned the words out slowly, his tone surprising even him. “Plea -- I’m yours,” he finally acquiesced to what his brother wanted to hear.
“Only yours,” he added a moment later, his hips shifting and arching back in an attempt to get Dean to fuck him, even though he knew it would only happen when Dean was satisfied with his answer.
Hearing those words spoken in that fierce, starving for more tone drove Dean wild. How could he possibly say no to his little brother when he asked so nicely?
His his drove forward, cracking his hip bones against Sammy’s perfect ass and they both cried out together. Curling closer, Dean kept the thrusts coming like that; pulling nearly all the way out before jolting back into Sammy relentlessly.
After four more strokes Dean came with a loud shout, his hands gripping Sammy’s hips so tightly that Sammy cried out, too.
Sam wriggled beneath Dean, hips humping down against the bed in a weak attempt to receive at least some kind of relief. Normally Dean would let him come first, but now he was left behind, fending for himself. “D-Dean...”
Sammy’s seemingly endless arms stretched back, gripping Dean’s hips and pulling him in tighter against his body. He couldn’t sit still; he needed to get off.
For a few moments Dean watched Sammy’s body rolling and rubbing, grabbing any bit of skin that he could. The noises his started making were desperate and he had squeezed his eyes shut in concentration.
Finally he decided to lend a helping hand. Stretching his body over Sammy’s, he made sure that as much of his skin was touching his brother’s as he could. His dense fingers stretched out over Sammy’s thigh, sliding forward achingly slow.
“Dean,” Sammy whimpered and tried to shift over, his hips pushing in against his brother’s to make room for his hand.
Without making him wait any longer, Dean’s hand wrapped around Sammy’s cock and instantly groaned into his ear. “You’ve never been this hard before,” he murmured in his ear.
“You’ve... You’ve never... Been this possessive before,” Sammy responded in drawn-out words between gasps and full moans. He couldn’t stop thrusting his hips, fucking Dean’s fist for everything he was worth.
It felt like an eternity before he came, but when he did it was damn near violent. His body shook from head to toe, each muscle going tight across his body before it seemed as if he simply gave up.
Both Winchesters fell over then, Dean finally pulling out of his brother. ”You’re mine, Sammy,” he rasped, reaching for his brother and tugging him closer. “Always mine,” he added a moment later before his mouth crushed Sammy’s.
There was nothing Sammy could do; all he wanted was Dean. All he needed was Dean. “Always yours,” he murmured against Dean’s mouth. He could never tell Dean the truth of the matter, though.
He only talked to that blond girl so that Dean would take him back to the hotel and fuck his brains out. Dean thought he was always in control, but Sammy knew exactly what to do to get his brother to do exactly what he wanted.
Author:
ofthesoundsFandom: Supernatural.
Characters: Dean & Sam Winchester.
Prompt: Possessive/jealous sex. Either Dean has to remind Sammy who he belongs to, or Sammy has to remind Dean that no matter what he thinks, Dean is just as much his.
Word Count: 1,549 words.
Rating: M; slash.
Summary: Dean reminds Sammy of who he belongs to after Dean catches him flirting in a bar with a girl who reminds him of Jess.
Author's Notes: This was written for
dragon_lord. Happy (belated) birthday, babe.Sam’s face shoved into the mattress and he could feel the metal wire beneath the thin, cheap sheets dig into his cheek. He told himself that the low groan that filled the air wasn’t from his mouth. Surely there was some other explanation for the sound.
“What’s your problem?” Dean’s voice growled out from behind him, and Sam could practically feel his brother shaking with what he thought was anger.
But... It was just one dance.
“Dean,” Sam gasped his brother’s name out, writhing between Dean’s legs. His knees were pressed to Sam’s hips, trying to hold him down to the bed. One hand in his hair, and Dean kept his other hand between his little brother’s shoulder blades.
The sun had barely gone down when they arrived in the small town of Boone, Iowa. Before, Dean would have made some kind of joke about Midwesterner’s daughters. Or finding one of those cute farm girls and showing her a good time.
Everything had changed, though; he thought that Sammy was on the same page as him. That’s what he thought, at least until he got to the bar and saw Sammy dancing with the tiny little blonde who looked (almost painfully) like Jess.
Dean practically saw red. His jaws instantly went tight and he grabbed Sammy by the coat to drag him out of the bar. He threw him into the Impala, and now they were back at their motel with the 1950’s wallpaper of forest green and sea foam green circles.
He didn’t even know where to start with Sammy, honestly. He thought about beating his ass raw, but no... He just wanted to remind Sammy that he couldn’t just ditch Dean and go off dancing with some blonde bitch whenever he wanted to. If Dean Winchester could change his ways, Sammy damn well better do it, too.
“Get up,” he growled as he moved off of the bed and stepped aside. Dean worked his belt open as Sam twisted on the bed and moved fluidly to his feet. He looked confused as he tilted his eyes down to look at Dean.
Without needing instructions, Sammy started stripping down. His large brown coat was already across the room, flung over the television as soon as they had entered the room. His pale red hoodie came off next, followed by his regular tee shirt. “I don’t know why you’re so mad,” he finally spoke up, and could feel the nerves nagging at the back of his throat.
Dean wasn’t mad at him, not really. He saw his ugly emotions for what they truly were; jealousy and possessiveness, followed by anger at himself for even being jealous. How could he tell his little brother that he was feeling possessive because Sammy was dancing with some bitch? Or that he was jealous because she looked an awful lot like Jess?
They shouldn’t be doing any of this, but Dean figured if he was going back to Hell in the end, any way, he’d damn sure do what he pleased while on earth.
“Shut up and strip down,” the words were spoken almost coldly through Dean’s tight lips. He was pleased when Sammy didn’t try to go all Dr. Phil on him. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with that shit.
The second that Sammy’s body was bare for him, Dean twisted him around and threw him down to the bed again. “If I thought I could get away with it, I’d fuck you without any lube you little shit,” Dean admitted, but was digging through the bag. Flicking the top of the lube open, he spilled some onto his throbbing cock before tossing the bottle away.
“Dean, I just --” Sam started to explain, to protest, to try to reason with his brother, even though he could tell that this probably wasn’t the best time for it.
He was right. Dean didn’t want to hear any of it.
Still, Sam wasn’t expecting Dean to just start pushing into him. Tonight Dean didn’t bother preparing him. Sam’s hands fisted into the sheets, his legs spreading out further to try to give his brother better positioning behind him.
As soon as he started moving, Dean’s hands clamped down roughly on his hips. He wanted to make sure that Sammy was bruised. He wanted to make sure that Sammy couldn’t walk the following day.
His large hands spread Sammy’s cheeks wide, his head tilted down to watch himself sink into him. He didn’t stop until he was fully inside Sammy, and even then his hips ground down, as if he was trying to get as deep as he possibly could.
Sam was writhing beneath him, gasping and moaning slightly against their bed sheets. His hips were shoved in the air at an angle, his legs spread so that Dean’s knees were resting on the inside of his own. “P-Please, please Dean...”
Fuck it all if Dean didn’t love hearing Sammy begging in that sweet tone. Slowly drawing his hips back, Dean made sure that Sammy felt his length and the slow burn the entire way out of him. He barely left the tip of his dick inside him. “Please what, Sammy?” He growled the words out.
Sammy whimpered. “Please, just fuck me,” he begged in a desperate tone.
“Why should I?” Dean’s hands slid away from Sammy’s hips, following the curve of his back muscles and up on to his shoulders, gripping them tightly.
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Sam didn’t want to answer the question. He knew what Dean wanted -- what he needed -- but the words always sounded so... Freakishly emotional, even for Sam. “P-please, Dean...” Sam groaned the words out slowly, his tone surprising even him. “Plea -- I’m yours,” he finally acquiesced to what his brother wanted to hear.
“Only yours,” he added a moment later, his hips shifting and arching back in an attempt to get Dean to fuck him, even though he knew it would only happen when Dean was satisfied with his answer.
Hearing those words spoken in that fierce, starving for more tone drove Dean wild. How could he possibly say no to his little brother when he asked so nicely?
His his drove forward, cracking his hip bones against Sammy’s perfect ass and they both cried out together. Curling closer, Dean kept the thrusts coming like that; pulling nearly all the way out before jolting back into Sammy relentlessly.
After four more strokes Dean came with a loud shout, his hands gripping Sammy’s hips so tightly that Sammy cried out, too.
Sam wriggled beneath Dean, hips humping down against the bed in a weak attempt to receive at least some kind of relief. Normally Dean would let him come first, but now he was left behind, fending for himself. “D-Dean...”
Sammy’s seemingly endless arms stretched back, gripping Dean’s hips and pulling him in tighter against his body. He couldn’t sit still; he needed to get off.
For a few moments Dean watched Sammy’s body rolling and rubbing, grabbing any bit of skin that he could. The noises his started making were desperate and he had squeezed his eyes shut in concentration.
Finally he decided to lend a helping hand. Stretching his body over Sammy’s, he made sure that as much of his skin was touching his brother’s as he could. His dense fingers stretched out over Sammy’s thigh, sliding forward achingly slow.
“Dean,” Sammy whimpered and tried to shift over, his hips pushing in against his brother’s to make room for his hand.
Without making him wait any longer, Dean’s hand wrapped around Sammy’s cock and instantly groaned into his ear. “You’ve never been this hard before,” he murmured in his ear.
“You’ve... You’ve never... Been this possessive before,” Sammy responded in drawn-out words between gasps and full moans. He couldn’t stop thrusting his hips, fucking Dean’s fist for everything he was worth.
It felt like an eternity before he came, but when he did it was damn near violent. His body shook from head to toe, each muscle going tight across his body before it seemed as if he simply gave up.
Both Winchesters fell over then, Dean finally pulling out of his brother. ”You’re mine, Sammy,” he rasped, reaching for his brother and tugging him closer. “Always mine,” he added a moment later before his mouth crushed Sammy’s.
There was nothing Sammy could do; all he wanted was Dean. All he needed was Dean. “Always yours,” he murmured against Dean’s mouth. He could never tell Dean the truth of the matter, though.
He only talked to that blond girl so that Dean would take him back to the hotel and fuck his brains out. Dean thought he was always in control, but Sammy knew exactly what to do to get his brother to do exactly what he wanted.
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Date: 2009-03-27 08:49 pm (UTC)