What Happens On The Hunt, Stays On The Hunt. [[Part 3]] {Supernatural, Wincest, NC-17}
Posted on 2012.02.27 at 19:06Current Location: Home
Current Music: God? - The Dodos
Part 1
“Right.” Sam shifted, awkwardly patting Dean's shoulder. “So, uh. Do you want to, uh. I mean. Do you want to... yourself...?” he made a crude motion with his fingers, flushing pink. “Or, um, should I--...? I mean, I can, that would probably be easier, right? I don't know if you can really, uh, reach yourself to, uh, 'cause I don't want to hurt you or anything, so, um...” Sam trailed off, the silence stretching between them before Dean squared his shoulders and reached over to the bedside table, digging out the bottle of lube he'd stolen for the occasion.
“I'll do it,” he muttered, shuffling to kneel where he'd been sitting and uncapping the bottle, squeezing a good amount into his palm and swirling two fingers through the clear gel. Dean licked his lips, turning his head away from Sam as he reached behind himself and tried to relax.
Sure, he'd slept with that dude in Tampa – but that had been drunken, messy handjobs and frotting – and he'd gotten downright freaky with a few girls in his life, but he'd never been on this end of the act. He knew the basics. No such thing as too much lube, go slow, stretch, but... this was different. Dean exhaled and gritted his jaw as he spread the lube over his entrance before steeling himself and slowly pressing his finger against the resistance of the muscle.
It didn't hurt but it certainly didn't feel like anything he was really going to get off on – especially when he took Sam's size into consideration, because he was a freaking monster. Still, he'd dealt with worse pain and Sam wasn't out to injure him. It'd be fine.
Dean glanced back to Sam and flushed at the way the other was staring at him, mouth open and eyes wide. He snorted, winking when Sam snapped his jaw shut and blushed as he realized he'd been caught.
“Enjoying the show, Sammy?” He asked, his voice a little rougher than normal as he arched, sliding his finger in deeper and slowly repeating the movement. It was awkward and his arm and hand were tingling with the itchy beginnings of cramp already, but he bit back a short laugh as Sam went almost bright red and dropped his gaze to Dean's knees.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, raising his eyes again a moment later. Dean licked his lips, glancing down and swallowing at the sight of Sam hard again – and yeah, there was some seriously, seriously fucked up shit going on here, because no way should Sam be getting that hard watching his brother finger himself, and no way should Dean's own cock be twitching because he was fingering himself while his little brother watched.
He slid his finger out, scooping up another liberal amount of gel before slowly exhaling and closing his eyes as he pressed two back in. He could definitely feel the sharp stretch now, a hot, burning sensation that made his toes curl. It still didn't feel good, just... weird. Really weird.
Dean jumped, eyes snapping open as Sam gripped his sides and kissed him hard, muffling Dean's indignant grunt at being surprised. Sam pulled back, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around Dean's wrist, tugging.
“Dude--! I'm not--... I'm not ready yet,” Dean said, slipping his fingers out and trying to yank his hand free from Sam. “Jeez, give a guy a minute...!”
“Let me do it,” Sam murmured, his other hand skating down Dean's chest. “I feel stupid, just... just watching.”
“Yeah, well you look stupid just watching,” Dean mumbled, frozen in position – caught between crippling embarrassment and an odd wobble of arousal.
“Please... let me, Dean.”
“Fine,” Dean breathed a moment later, licking his lips. “But don't--... just... respect the area, alright?” Sam nodded, leaning in again and dragging his lips along Dean's jaw. Dean tried to push down the feeling that they were being far too intimate – there were too many kisses and touches that didn't really need to be there, not for what they were trying to do. Which was get the job done. Kill the God, and go.
“Lay down,” Sam said softly, his hands pushing at Dean's chest and hips until the other was flat on his back. “Like this... I need to see your face. To make sure I'm not hurting you,” he added, flushing.
“Right,” Dean murmured, closing his eyes as Sam's hands slid down his thighs, nudging them apart. He couldn't stop the rush of heat to his cheeks and to his cock, another shudder of arousal mixing in with embarrassment at being so spread open and the feeling of Sam's fingers nudging under his balls. He smeared the rest of the lube in his palm messily across his hip, grabbing the bottle and handing it over without a word.
Sam's touch withdrew and returned a moment later – closer to his entrance and slick. Dean exhaled shakily, rolling his eyes behind closed lids as Sam brushed one finger hesitantly against him before pushing in. They were a little bigger than his, definitely longer and the angle was completely different. It still didn't feel any better.
“You can go with two,” he murmured, voice coming out a little tight as he flung his forearm over his eyes.
“Right...” Sam whispered, slowly drawing his finger out and sinking two back in with copious amounts of lubricant. Dean shuddered, biting his lower lip, his hips arching a little. It felt so, so weird... but the pain was gradually receding, the stretch hot and unlike anything he'd felt before, and good now seemed to be waiting around the corner instead of the simply being the stuff of myth and legend.
He shifted – unable to keep his body still as Sam slowly spread his fingers inside him, feeling oddly breathless as Sam nudged forwards and back shallowly.
“Dude,” he murmured, “sometime tonight...? I'm not some chick, you can-- nghnn!” He jerked, biting down hard on his bottom lip as Sam thrust his fingers in, something hot and dark racing up his spine at the sensation. Weird. So weird. He still didn't see how he'd get off on this, but it wasn't as bad as he'd been dreading.
“Are you okay...?” Sam asked, moving his fingers faster than before. Dean could feel his gaze on him, and he nodded jerkily in response, concentrating on not freezing up as he felt a third against him. The stretch and burn was worse now and Sam's fingers were definitely not small, but he could take it. Jesus, if skinny little twinks or whatever they were called could take a few fingers, Dean fucking Winchester could.
And it wasn't as if it was exactly bad. The ache had dulled, Sam moving three carefully in him, pulling out to add more lube and sliding back in in one deep, long thrust that snatched a rough, surprised noise from the back of Dean's throat. Sam froze.
“Did I hurt you...?!”
“No... no, it's...” Dean licked his lips, trying to get his voice back under control. “It's fine. Keep going.”
“I don't want to hurt you,” Sam muttered, but he started to move again – his fingers scissoring deep, deep inside Dean. He arched, breathing raggedly, and twisted his hands into the sheets, keeping his eyes closed. His hips were twitching and he couldn't stop them, couldn't stop the way he clenched experimentally around Sam's fingers and couldn't stop his own rough exhale as Sam choked out a low noise.
Alright, fine. He was beginning to see the appeal – especially when Sam sort of rocked up into him, because that put the pressure kinda along him inside and that made his stomach jump and clench. It was... yeah, that was okay. That wasn't bad.
“Okay,” Dean murmured a few minutes later, breathless and hard again, “I think that's enough. Let's get this show on the road.” Sam slowly slid his fingers out, slick hand gripping Dean's thigh.
“You sure...?”
“Yeah, come on.” Sam nodded and fumbled for the condoms, rolling one on before slicking his hand and then his cock. Dean shifted, sitting up and starting to turn onto his front, but Sam reached out and caught his shoulder.
“No, I--... I still need to see your face, Dean.”
“Dude, I'm not exactly Mr. Flexible over here,” he snorted, raising an eyebrow.
“We'll figure it out,” Sam muttered, reaching behind Dean and grabbing a few pillows, pushing him to lay back down. “Lift your hips.” Dean raised his other eyebrow but did as told, spreading his legs and pushing his hips up as Sam slid the pillows under him.
“... Not bad,” he conceded, wriggling a little to get comfortable and to try to quell the sudden rush of nervousness. No matter what happened, no matter how much they drank, this was a life changing moment. A huge fucking deal – the whole nine yards. There was no going back from this and there was no way they could pretend it had never happened forever.
Sam's hands slid along the outsides of Dean's thighs, curling over his hips and stroking up his sides as he shifted to kneel between the other's legs. Dean swallowed, crooking a grin and batting his eyelashes to try and defuse the rocketing tension.
“Be gentle with me, Sammy, it's my first time,” he drawled, relief flashing through him as Sam cracked, ducking his head and laughing before leaning down to brush a kiss along Dean's jaw.
“Jerk”, he murmured. Sam moved forwards, splaying his hands over Dean's hips and hauling them up as he slid closer, pulling Dean down along the bed a little. Dean jumped at the tug, his legs awkwardly lifting to rest against Sam's sides and Jesus Christ he felt vulnerable like this, on his back with his feet in the air.
“Bitch,” he gritted out, rolling his shoulders and trying to relax as one of Sam's hands fluttered over his ass and then his entrance before withdrawing. Dean closed his eyes again as Sam loomed closer and something much bigger and blunter nudged up against him.
“You okay...?” Sam whispered, squeezing Dean's hip.
“Fine, just--... do it already, come on,” he mumbled, fighting to keep his breathing steady.
“Okay,” Sam breathed. There was a second of nothing before Sam rolled forward, the head of his cock pushing past the ring of Dean's muscles and in without stopping. Dean flinched, knocking his heel hard into Sam's ribs half a second later as he bit off a pained snarl.
“Christ Sam, ow! Jesus!”
“Sorry,” Sam gasped, his hands shaking on Dean's sides as he froze. “Sorry, Dean, I--... sorry...” Dean licked his lips and arched his hips, hoping it would lessen the sharp, aching sting. Sam felt freaking huge and a slightly hysterical part of his mind kept repeating 'feels bigger on the inside, Doctor.'
A moment later Dean shivered, slowly breathing out. The pain had faded again, but he could feel himself throbbing around Sam's cock, and that was really going to freaking hurt in the morning.
“Is that it...? That's--... you're all in now, righ-- nhgnhn!” Sam babbled another apology into the space between them as he slid himself the rest of the way in, his thighs flush against the curve of Dean's ass.
“S-sorry, I--... fuck, Dean... a-are you okay...?”
“Yeah,” he breathed a few heartbeats later, opening his eyes and lifting his hand to clumsily pat Sam's cheek and crooking a small smile at the worried, hungry expression beneath his fingertips. “It's fine... just... go easy, okay?”
“Okay, yeah,” Sam nodded, turning his head to press a kiss to Dean's palm. Dean inhaled sharply as Sam flexed, his hand dropping back to the sheets at the indescribable sensation of that hardness sliding out a few centimetres and back in. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, glancing down between them and back up as Sam flexed again with a low, aching noise.
“That's the... the weirdest freaking feeling, man...” he murmured, shivering as Sam moved a little less shallowly. He was still going slowly – carefully – and Dean was grateful for it, the bite-like ache draining away with each gentle rock of Sam's hips, and yeah, this... this wasn't so bad. Not so bad at all. Sam shifted a little, pushing in again.
Heat suddenly exploded inside him, pleasure punching up through his gut and knocking the breath out of him, his body shuddering as he choked out a rough gasp and collapsed down onto his back. Sam froze, making a questioning noise.
“It's fine, it's--... it's fine... doesn't feel so sore, that's... that was... yeah...” he mumbled, breathing a lot shakier than before. After a second Sam slowly slid in again, keeping the same angle. Dean jerked, his cock twitching against his stomach as another involuntary noise bubbled past his lips.
“Prostate,” Sam mumbled, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Something in the back of Dean's mind clicked – he'd heard about it before, obviously, heard it likened to a chick's g-spot, but... he hadn't really believed in it. Well, believed that it could feel that good 'cause, come on, it was in a dude's ass.
“Hallelujah,” he breathed, digging his heel into Sam's back. “You can--... you can go faster.” Sam's hips snapped forwards at that, both of them groaning as his head span from the rushes of pleasure and the alcohol still in his system.
Sam's grip shifted on his hips, holding him tighter while tugging him a little closer, Dean's back dragging along the sheets and hello, the press of Sam's cock in a flurry of new ways had him grunting, tilting his head back – and if a little of it was from the way Sam had growled as he was man-handled... well. No one would know.
“Yeah?” Sam murmured, lifting Dean's ass up a little more and edging out before thrusting in in one long, smooth stroke that made every muscle in Dean's body clench, his nails scrabbling blindly at the sheets as he groaned – a low, breathy sound he almost didn't realize he'd made until Sam swore and moved again. Harder.
Ice-hot fire rolled along his body, sweat glistening on his skin as he arched, choking out a harsh, desperate noise each time Sam raked over his prostate. His cock was throbbing, precome pooling on his stomach as he hitched his legs higher, gasping for breath. The bed shook, headboard knocking against the wall as Sam picked up speed and strength, panting and groaning, whispering Dean's name and curses and something that sounded latin – and that just sent another flood of arousal racing through him, the hair on his body prickling and tugging, tips of his fingers and toes tight, tingling, and--...
Sam stopped.
Dean kicked him as hard as he could in his position, shoving his hips back down as he snarled out something that was meant to be 'why the fuck have you stopped?' but came out more “Whrrrnghn?!”
“I-I can't--... we can't see when Hu Tianbao appears like this,” Sam choked out, jerking forwards as Dean wriggled with another frustrated noise.
“Godfuckingdamnit,” he gritted out a moment later, chest heaving and reality flooding back with all the pleasantness of a cold shower. “Fine. Fine, we'll... we'll-- nghnn...!” Dean clenched his jaw as Sam slid out of him and away, his cock bobbing in the low light between them.
“Get on your knees,” Sam murmured, his voice low and dark – and Dean felt his cock twitch against his stomach, each rasp flicking a tremor down his tendons. He slowly did as told, licking his lips and watching Sam as he rose to his knees.
“Now what...?” he asked, only just resisting the urge to touch himself, his cock throbbing in time with his pounding heart.
“Like this...” Sam grabbed Dean's hips, moving them so Sam was kneeling behind him, his breath warm and hair feather-whispering across the nape of Dean's neck as he dragged his teeth along the spot just under Dean's ear. Dean shuddered, tilting his head back on instinct as Sam pushed his thighs open wider.
“You want me on my hands and knees, Sammy?” He smirked, crooking an eyebrow over his shoulder.
“Not quite,” Sam snorted, his palms trailing down Dean's chest, fingertips swirling over his nipples and the sweat licked between his muscles. He slid forwards, knees in between Dean's before he pushed them more roughly apart, Dean huffing a low, hungry noise.
He reached back, grabbing at Sam's hips for balance as he braced himself, one of Sam's hands splayed over his stomach.
“What--... you wanna... like this...? Up on my knees...?” he asked, twisting a little in Sam's grip as two fingers brushed over his slick entrance.
“Yeah,” Sam breathed. “Arch your back a bit... I got you...” Dean did as told a second later, nails still digging into Sam's hips as he spread his legs a little wider to stop himself from falling flat on his face. Sam pressed up against him, biting at the nape of Dean's neck as he lined himself up – both his hands sliding to hold onto Dean's hips.
“Do it,” Dean murmured, already trying to push himself back down, “come on, fucking do it, Sammy.”
“Christ...” Sam thrust up, hard and fast and Dean lurched with a harsh, aching groan as Sam slid in deeper than before, right up against his prostate and fuck that felt good, so much better like this, hard and fast and so fucking close, Sam plastered to his back like a second skin like he fucking belonged there.
Each snap of Sam's hips clawed a noise from Dean's lips, every bone in his body twisting as he reached up and behind him, sinking his fingers into Sam's hair, his other hand scrabbling at his hip – urging his brother quicker, rougher into him.
“Eyes open,” Sam gasped, biting down on Dean's neck as he wrapped a slick palm around Dean's cock and stroked, snapping his wrist to skitter his fingers up the throbbing flesh almost in perfect time with the roll of his thrusts. Dean groaned in response, toes curling and skin pulling tight along his joints – his teeth aching with how close he was, Sam's hand slippery with precome.
He fixed his eyes on the far wall as Sam's nails and teeth all but tore into him, the head of his cock hammering up against him, and this was fantastic, this was the best fucking thing in the world and Jesus Christ the nights they'd wasted not doing this were more of a fucking sin than what they were doing, not that he gave a flying fuck about sinning or morality anymore, not that he gave a flying fuck about anything other than the nettle-sharp smell of sex and sweat and Sam in and around and on him and Jesusmotherfuck he was there, he was there, he was skidding down the knife-edge and he was fucking there.
The world shattered into a thousand colours, none he could name and none he remembered as he came hard and messily over Sam's hand and his stomach, loud and writhing – shoving himself back down even as he tried to pull away while Sam snarled filthy, unintelligible words into his ear and pressed in so close and deep Dean felt giddy with it.
Dean slumped a little in Sam's arms as he felt him jerk weakly and still, burying his face in Dean's neck as he moaned out his orgasm, the hushed sea-foam calm of it washing over them. Dean forced his eyes open, scrabbling for the knife and holding it ready, his thighs and knees trembling violently. Sam pulled back with a weak, wrecked noise – his thumbs stroking circles on Dean's hip bones, the only sounds their gasping, rasping breath.
After a few minutes Sam cleared his throat. Dean jumped, hissing as Sam edged back and away, pulling out of him with a slick noise and a wince. The silence rang on. And on. And on. Neither of them looked at each other, the tension exploding between them. Finally Sam ran his fingers through his hair.
“... Well that didn't work.”
“... Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean gritted out, dropping the knife, turning, and slumping to the bed, the ache in his ass slowly starting to kick in. It hadn't worked. That no good sonofabitch God hadn't fucking showed, and Dean had just had some of the best fucking sex of his life with his little brother. “... I need another drink. I need all the drink. Jesus Christ, Sam, this--”
“--Stop it,” Sam murmured, getting off the bed and awkwardly wrapping a towel around his waist, tying off the condom and dropping it into the bin as Dean buried his head in the pillows. “Stop freaking out, okay? I'm going to go see what's going on.”
“Right, awesome, you do that,” Dean growled, pressing his face harder into the pillow. He wasn't freaking out. Nope. Not at all. Being fucked by your little brother was totally normal and cool, totally awesome and not the most awkward, fucked up thing ever. Why the fuck had he agreed to this!? It hadn't even fucking worked!
“Dean--”
“--Don't, Sam. Just... don't. Alright? I don't want to talk about this or our feelings or whatever your girly-ass brain is conjuring up, okay? I just want to shower, drink myself into oblivion, and kill this fucking God. No talking.”
“... Right. Sure.” Dean listened as Sam stomped to the bathroom and cleaned himself up before tugging on some clothes. There was a moment of hesitation before Sam heaved a sigh and left the room.
This was the worst fucking case ever.
