rivers_bend

Title: Kinesis
Author: rivers_bend
Prompt for DJ100 at sammessiah: telekinetic bondage
Rating: Adult
Words: ~1200
Disclaimer: Our porn makes more people watch your show
A/N: Ok. So this didn't exactly do what I had in mind when I took the prompt. The boys and real life had other ideas. But there's Sam's powers and sex, and if this has a sequel at any point, you sammessiah folks will be the first to know.
Thanks to lima_sierra for beta duties. All remaining mistakes and confusion resulting from tense changes is mine. I went with a whole non-linear thing.



More than once, Sam told Dean he didn't have his powers anymore. Something happened in Cold Oak. Or after. When… anyway. Sam didn't have his powers. No more dreams, no more nightmares, no more haring off without warning after some vision. There was no reason for Dean to doubt Sam's word.

Even after he used the Colt on Casey and the Father without a second's thought, even when he cut off Gordon's head with nothing but a loop of razor-wire, Dean didn't suspect that Sam might be mistaken. Not about that. And he never thought that Sam might be lying.

~-~-~-~-~

Dean's on his back, sweat slick in the dip between his pecs, legs spread wide to accommodate Sam kneeling between them. His arms are at his sides, fingers gripping the sheets, while Sam fucks him open with come-slick fingers.

Dean stayed still while Sam jerked himself off. Didn't touch his cock, didn't even dig fingernails into his thighs to relieve some of the fucking heat he was drowning in, watching Sam like that. He just did as he was told, while Sam was right there, his thighs pushing Dean's legs apart, hand quick on his cock, saying, "Dean. God, Dean, you should see yourself. So hard for me. So damn sexy. So fucking sexy."

Sam told him not to touch, and he didn't touch. It nearly killed him. But he was good. So good for Sammy.

Then Sam came, arching back, striping Dean's balls, wetting his own fingers. Dean nearly came just from that, and his hand moved to give himself that last bit of friction he needed, but Sam said, "Stop."

Stomach muscles jerking, thighs shaking, breath caught in his chest, Dean stopped.

Now Sam's pressing in, pressing up, fingers curled just right, and Dean's nearly weeping with need. "Please, Sam, please. Let me. Just… God, let me."

"No."

Dean tries, so hard, to do what Sam says. But his hand comes up against his will, needing to touch.

"I said no." Sam points with a finger of his free hand.

With no warning, Dean's arms sweep up above his head as though he's making a snow angel. Surprised, he tries to jerk them back, but they're held fast. "Sam?" The gotta come now has been edged with a frisson of fear.

"I could tie you up," Sam says. "But I think maybe I like this better."

"Fuck, Samm—" Dean starts, but then his lips are sealed tight and he can't speak either.

"No talking, I think," Sam says.

Dean has no problem with bondage. But with ropes and handcuffs you know what you're getting. With this, Sam's in complete control. Dean's stomach twists, shooting an ache to his balls. Ok, then. Maybe Sam in complete control is a good thing.

"Want to feel you, Dean. Take you. Watch you take everything I give you."

Dean groans, the sound trapped in his chest. Sam should have fucking told him. Shouldn't be keeping secrets. But they'll have to deal with that later, because right now, Dean's dick, and his skin, and, ok, even his head, need Sam to do this. There's nothing but the desire to have something to fight against that won't break. Something that won't break him. Sam's eyes are dark and feral, but so completely open, it's like Dean can see everything Sam wants from him. It sends adrenalin pumping around his veins and makes him thrust down onto Sam's fingers, wanting to bleed off some of that intensity into physical sensation.

There's something more and less going on here, and it takes Dean a minute to sort it out. With no bite of rope or metal around his wrists, nothing to hold on to, all that exists in the universe is the heat and fullness of Sam inside him. "Just you and me," Sam says, and fuck can he read minds now too?

"Sam," Dean tries to say, but with his lips held closed, it's just a high whine against his palate.

"Got you, Dean. I've got you."

Something flies past in Dean's peripheral vision and then Sam's pulling his fingers away. There's a scrape of metal, and Dean sees that Sam is scooping Vaseline from the tin Dean bought as lip balm when they hit snow country. Not using that on my lips again, he thinks, but he can't tear his eyes from Sam's fingers as Sam rubs grease over and between them. Forgetting for a minute that Sam has him pinned, Dean tries to touch Sam's wrist. Wants to feel the move of muscles, Sam's strength. When his arm lifts from the bed, Dean remembers he was held fast. Realizes Sam must be distracted. Dean drops his arm again, using his own will to hold it there.

Then Sam's pressing in again, cold and slippery, with the sharp burn of stretching a counterpoint, and Dean doesn't even know anymore who's holding him. Whether it's Sam's will or his own that's keeping him open and ready for whatever Sam wants.

~-~-~-~-~

Sam lost his powers after the trial in Cold Oak. After he died. He didn't really notice at first, distracted by Jake and the Yellow-eyed bastard and the Devil's Gate. But then there was a fight and something was at Dean's throat and Sam felt that sickening fear he'd felt in Max's closet, and without even thinking about it, he tried to pull the demon off his brother from across the room. Nothing.

He realized then that his dreams were all garden variety nightmares lately. If by garden you meant Hell.

For a while he kept it a secret. Kept everything a secret. There was too much going on with Dean and the deal and everything else, and Sam just wanted some time to figure it out. But Dean noticed, he asked outright, and Sam told him. No more dreams. No more powers.

Then Ruby showed up, with her knife and her words and her promises. And Sam had another secret.

~-~-~-~-~

Sam isn't sure if she gave him his powers back, or if she is just so damn annoying that he found them all on his own. One second she's running a manicured nail down his chest, asking just what he plans on doing with all this extra time he's going to have with his brother, asking if she can watch, and the next, she's slamming into the wall across the room, her feet several inches off the ground.

"Sam," she says. "That isn't very nice. Put me down."

That's the first he knows it's him doing it, and it breaks whatever concentration he had going, allowing her to drop to the floor. Bitch lands like a cat. Of course.

"You thought you couldn't do that anymore, didn't you?"

Sam tries to use the power of his mind to wipe the smile off her face, but she just arches an eyebrow in his direction and flicks her fingers. That's easier to focus on somehow, and he pins her wrist to the wall.

"Sammy…"

"Don't. Call me that." He's not fucking around. He's had it up to here with her insinuations today. "Tell me what you came here for, or get out."

Never one to talk when she can walk, Ruby wrenches her hand from Sam's control and slides out the door on oiled hips. For someone so sure he's banging his brother, she seems awfully confident about her feminine wiles.

Sam thinks about Ruby spread helpless against the wall, nothing but his will holding her there. Looks at his watch. Dean will be back in a few hours.

Sam uses the time to practice.

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