posted by ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rivers_bend at 08:08am on 28/08/2009 under blindfold, comment fic, fan fiction, nc17, prompt, slash, spn, wincest
rivers_bend at 08:08am on 28/08/2009 under blindfold, comment fic, fan fiction, nc17, prompt, slash, spn, wincestTitle: Doggy Style
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~750
Warnings/Enticements: No actual dogs in the fic
Summary: Sam can't get enough of Dean. for this prompt from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
blindfold_spn
Sam was thirteen the first time he couldn't take his eyes off his brother's dick. Back then it was just his eyes, though, and he never thought it would be any different. Hell. That was half the reason he went to Stanford, never planned on looking back. Because he didn't know how much longer he could keep from doing what he always longed to do, which was touch it, get on his knees and kiss it, press his face against that gorgeous bulge.
But then Dean came and got him, wanted him back, and Sam finally broke, confessed to Dean what he wanted, needed, and amazingly, Dean let him.
Now Sam gets to look all he wants.
He loves the soft bulge of his brother in his jeans, but when Dean's hard—god—then Sam's mouth waters and it's almost impossible to think about anything other than worshiping his brother's cock.
And yeah, it's not easy to concentrate, which makes doing their job more difficult sometimes, but Sam loves a challenge almost as much as he loves to see Dean hard and needy, so he can't help cupping Dean while he's driving, teasing him with the gentle friction of fabric on his cockhead, or firm pressure just how Dean likes it. Can't help standing too close behind him while they're out, pressing up against Dean's ass, making sure Dean can feel Sam's dick, whispering in his ear letting him know just how horny he's making Sam. Dean's so fucking gorgeous when he's hard. Even with his jeans on.
As soon as they get back to the room from wherever they've been, Sam gets Dean up against the door or the wall or the table and sinks to his knees, finally able to get just what he's been longing for all day.
"Yes, god, Sam, suck me," Dean says, and Sam wants to. He does. But first he needs something else.
The first time he took what he wanted, Sam felt like a dog, sniffing and snuffling at his brother's fly. But the scent of Dean through sun-and-body-warmed denim was too heady to ignore. And now he just feels like Sam, the only person in the world who Dean lets do this.
He always starts low, down by Dean's balls, getting a shoulder between Dean's thighs, making room for himself, before he buries his nose between Dean's legs where the scent is strongest. Burrows in, testing the weight of Dean's sac with the bridge of his nose, rubbing Dean's cock with his forehead. His cheeks are next, stroking against the rough denim as though he's marking Dean's dick like a cat, feeling Dean's bulge fit into the hollows under his cheekbones, loving the way it presses in, knowing that soon Dean's bare cock will be pressing out from the inside.
His hands caress Dean's ass and thighs while he does this, and then they get to touch too, thumbs riding the creases over Dean's pockets, fingers teasing with tickly touches until Dean swears at him to get fucking on with it already. Then Sam lets his whole hand cover Dean's bulge, hiding it from view.
"God damn it, Sam, suck me already," Dean says, but Sam suspects he loves this part as much as Sam does, the way he tangles his fingers in Sam's hair and pushes his dick against Sam's face.
Finally, once Sam's about to come in his pants and Dean's threatening death and dismemberment, Sam undoes Dean's jeans, pulls his cock out.
Dean's always dripping by this point, the head of his cock red and salty-slick. Sam rubs his face on it again, wetting his lips and cheeks and forehead with pre-come, pricking Dean's cock with his stubble. When Dean's nearly insensate with begging, Sam opens his mouth and sucks him. He can never suppress the groan of pure bliss that the taste of his brother drives from his lungs, and Dean always answers with a groan of his own.
Sam feels he could spend his life like this, Dean's cock stretching his lips, his throat, but Dean rarely lasts more than a few minutes after the hours of teasing Sam subjects him to. It's enough to get Sam where he needs to be, though, hips pumping against nothing but air, orgasm racing down his spine as his brother shoots down his throat.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~750
Warnings/Enticements: No actual dogs in the fic
Summary: Sam can't get enough of Dean. for this prompt from
blindfold_spnSam was thirteen the first time he couldn't take his eyes off his brother's dick. Back then it was just his eyes, though, and he never thought it would be any different. Hell. That was half the reason he went to Stanford, never planned on looking back. Because he didn't know how much longer he could keep from doing what he always longed to do, which was touch it, get on his knees and kiss it, press his face against that gorgeous bulge.
But then Dean came and got him, wanted him back, and Sam finally broke, confessed to Dean what he wanted, needed, and amazingly, Dean let him.
Now Sam gets to look all he wants.
He loves the soft bulge of his brother in his jeans, but when Dean's hard—god—then Sam's mouth waters and it's almost impossible to think about anything other than worshiping his brother's cock.
And yeah, it's not easy to concentrate, which makes doing their job more difficult sometimes, but Sam loves a challenge almost as much as he loves to see Dean hard and needy, so he can't help cupping Dean while he's driving, teasing him with the gentle friction of fabric on his cockhead, or firm pressure just how Dean likes it. Can't help standing too close behind him while they're out, pressing up against Dean's ass, making sure Dean can feel Sam's dick, whispering in his ear letting him know just how horny he's making Sam. Dean's so fucking gorgeous when he's hard. Even with his jeans on.
As soon as they get back to the room from wherever they've been, Sam gets Dean up against the door or the wall or the table and sinks to his knees, finally able to get just what he's been longing for all day.
"Yes, god, Sam, suck me," Dean says, and Sam wants to. He does. But first he needs something else.
The first time he took what he wanted, Sam felt like a dog, sniffing and snuffling at his brother's fly. But the scent of Dean through sun-and-body-warmed denim was too heady to ignore. And now he just feels like Sam, the only person in the world who Dean lets do this.
He always starts low, down by Dean's balls, getting a shoulder between Dean's thighs, making room for himself, before he buries his nose between Dean's legs where the scent is strongest. Burrows in, testing the weight of Dean's sac with the bridge of his nose, rubbing Dean's cock with his forehead. His cheeks are next, stroking against the rough denim as though he's marking Dean's dick like a cat, feeling Dean's bulge fit into the hollows under his cheekbones, loving the way it presses in, knowing that soon Dean's bare cock will be pressing out from the inside.
His hands caress Dean's ass and thighs while he does this, and then they get to touch too, thumbs riding the creases over Dean's pockets, fingers teasing with tickly touches until Dean swears at him to get fucking on with it already. Then Sam lets his whole hand cover Dean's bulge, hiding it from view.
"God damn it, Sam, suck me already," Dean says, but Sam suspects he loves this part as much as Sam does, the way he tangles his fingers in Sam's hair and pushes his dick against Sam's face.
Finally, once Sam's about to come in his pants and Dean's threatening death and dismemberment, Sam undoes Dean's jeans, pulls his cock out.
Dean's always dripping by this point, the head of his cock red and salty-slick. Sam rubs his face on it again, wetting his lips and cheeks and forehead with pre-come, pricking Dean's cock with his stubble. When Dean's nearly insensate with begging, Sam opens his mouth and sucks him. He can never suppress the groan of pure bliss that the taste of his brother drives from his lungs, and Dean always answers with a groan of his own.
Sam feels he could spend his life like this, Dean's cock stretching his lips, his throat, but Dean rarely lasts more than a few minutes after the hours of teasing Sam subjects him to. It's enough to get Sam where he needs to be, though, hips pumping against nothing but air, orgasm racing down his spine as his brother shoots down his throat.
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