We'd Rather Burn Than Fight
Jun. 16th, 2013 02:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dime_lioraTitle: We'd Rather Burn Than Fight
Wordcount: 2,951
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Warning(s): (highlight to reveal) Safewording
Contains: BDSM, Anal sex, Hurt/Comfort
Beta(s): Inspector 13,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sammichgirl, who I am infinitely indebted to.
Disclaimer: I don't own what I built on, but I do own what I built. Song title from "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight" by Low Roar.
Summary: Dean begins to take advantage of finally having a home, and the privacy that comes with it. My first![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
smpc "entry!!
Sam hates when Dean teases. Hates to have to wait and wait for completion as his brother takes his sweet time making sure that Sam reaches that place in between exhaustion and euphoria. Yet for all his complaints Sam never says no, and he never says stop.
That’s how he finds himself in this position. Ever since they got the bunker Dean has been flagrantly abusing the space and privacy. He can’t help but wonder if the Men of Letters would have approved of a fourth of Dean’s activity in their ultimate safe house. The first time Dean slid behind him in the kitchen and bent him over the countertop Sam had thought it was kinky.
Now he knows that all the years of furtive sex trying not to get caught by Dad, other hunters, or anyone who knew their status as siblings was no indicator for Dean’s real tastes. It started out small. Dean would slap his ass when he was buried inside of him or manhandle him a little. Sam liked it. Liked that he didn’t have to watch how loud he got or care whether or not Dean left marks.
He almost drew the line when Dean pulled out the rope. Getting tied up had never seemed very sexy to Sam considering it usually ended in torture or some other form of abuse. Except he’d rolled with it because there was this glint in Dean’s eyes and his brother’s cock was bouncing against his stomach leaking precome at just the thought.
So Sam let him, and it ended up being great. Pulling on the ropes and gasping Dean’s name as Dean twisted him this way and that to find the perfect angle and the preferred depth. There have been very few people on the planet that could take Sam in a fair fight, and knowing that he’s at the mercy of the only one he ever trusted is heady.
It’s a little like a drug.
The first time Dean brought out the leather cuffs, the kind dedicated to people who enjoyed being tied up and fucked, Sam started to wonder if Dean was being adventurous in response to their newfound home, or if he was finally giving in to something he’d wanted forever.
But it was ok, because Dean never got what he wanted. Always had to subsume his own desires in the interest of someone else, and usually that someone else was Sam. It was easy to nod and smile to the cuffs. From there things took a turn Sam didn’t exactly expect.
The spanking continued, ramped up, and Dean would spend hours licking and kissing his burning ass cheeks and murmuring how pretty the red was compared with the rest of his skin. The kinkier Dean got, the more violence and control that crept into their sex life, the more affectionate his brother became.
The first time he slapped a hand against Sam’s hole Sam jerked and cried out, and then Dean rimmed him for an hour leaving Sam weak and sloppy, saliva coating his ass and cum dripping from his stomach where’d he let go without his dick getting an ounce of friction.
It was too much, it wasn’t enough, and Sam just wanted more and less. He wanted Dean to explain what was happening, but he was afraid that if he asked Dean would stop and be unhappy again. They were fulfilling some secret wish, some hidden desire, and wasn’t that worth a little discomfort? It had to be, because they were too deep in it now for Sam to back out.
It progressed from there. The hunts they went on were unaffected, but when they were home together Dean had that odd mixture of solicitous and controlling all the time. He’d tie Sam’s hands behind his back and spend hours lazily fingering him until Sam was begging for something more through tears, and then he’d slide into him nice and slow before stroking his sides and praising him as he fucked his way to orgasm.
The first time Dean gagged him he handed Sam a ball, the kind they used to get out of vending machines and bounce off the walls of their motel rooms for hours, and told him to drop it if it got to be too much.
That, oddly enough, was when Sam finally figured out what was going on. It’s not like he’d never heard of BDSM before, or that he hadn’t seen a porno or two in his day, but applying that to them was never a thing Sam would have thought of on his own. Dean didn’t demand Sam call him master or sir, didn’t ask him limits or call him names, but there was the controlling and then the comforting. There was the pain mixed with the pleasure. Most importantly Dean was pushing Sam’s limits, finding a way to worm past the point when Sam’s defiance crumbled into pleading and begging.
And Sam begged. Sam begged every time. He begged for more and he begged for release, but most importantly he begged for Dean and that was something new. Before now the most Sam would do was order Dean to get in him, to stretch him wide and leave him gasping and wet. Now all the orders came from Dean.
He never dropped the ball, but he did shake and twist as Dean switched back and forth between fucking him with his tongue, slapping his ass and thighs cherry red, and sliding his cock in slow and torturous over and over again.
By the end of that session, or was it called a scene, Dean held him for a long time as Sam tried to get his heartbeat back to normal and his breathing in check. His brother’s hands were everywhere, gentle and sure, and Sam was pretty certain Dean was cooing into his hair. If he wasn’t shaking so hard he would have told Dean that it was unnecessary and Dean was making an ass out of himself. But he was shaking, and instead he slumped into Dean’s hold and let himself be petted and gentled.
It ramped up from there. Where Dean got the toys, when he learned to use them, and when he figured out how to mold Sam into being everything he wanted Sam had no idea. He’d never caught even a hint of this before. Sure Dean could be possessive, and a little rough at times, but nothing like the night he slipped the cock ring on Sam and then sucked him off until Dean’s jaw must have been numb.
Sam had cried for release that night too.
But all of it paled in comparison to this. Dean had led him into the room blindfolded, led Sam up a step ladder and then murmured for Sam to trust him before taking his left ankle and lifting it into empty space. Sam had let him. Let him lead his left foot over to a step stool a little bit away, and then Dean had taken his hands and lifted them up before tying his wrists in ropes suspended above his head. Sam wasn’t too far above the ground, he was pretty sure his toes could touch if he wanted them to, but spread out like this and restrained above the ground Sam felt unstable.
“You’re gonna love this so much Sammy. This is gonna be awesome, and I’m gonna take such good care of you.” Hands slid along his trembling thighs, cupped his cock for half a second, and then slid up his stomach and to his nipples. “We’re gonna see just how far you can go.”
The statement should freak him out, but Sam’s too busy soaking in the gentle touches and the raspy tone his brother gets whenever they’re in this position.
Then Dean takes the blindfold off.
Sam can see himself in the huge mirror mounted on the wall across from him. He’s standing fully spread on stools, his arms bound tightly to pipes set in the ceiling, and below him perfectly lined up with his ass is a pole attached to a heavy base. At the top of the pole is a rather formidably sized dildo.
“Dean what the fuck?” Sam’s pulse leaps and he starts to pull on the ropes. He’s never been less pleased that they’re both so well trained at restraining people.
Dean’s grin is dark, wicked, and in full view he pops the lube bottle open before squirting some out on his fingers. “Trust me Sammy. Just trust me.”
And Sam does trust him, but this is a little much. The sight of the dildo glistening beneath him, already lubed, and Dean circling him like a shark in the water has Sam’s feet slipping a bit on the stools as he shifts uncomfortably.
“Dean I just-this looks-I mean come on man. That thing is huge.” He can see his own eyes in the mirror’s reflection, too wide and with all the white showing, and Dean seems pleased by that look. He disappears behind Sam, and all that’s left is his voice and the lower half of him exposed behind Sam’s spread legs.
“You’ve had bigger Sammy. I know what you can take.”
But does he? Does he really? Because Sam’s been doing research, looking in to the sort of things they’ve been doing, and there are a lot of steps they’ve skipped. They don’t have rules, there was never an agreement set out, and there’s no safeword Sam can call on if things get really bad. He pulls on the ropes again and realizes how much he’s already sweating when his right foot slips a little.
“Dean I don’t think I can do this. Let me down.” His voice wavers, and Dean leans around the side of him. There’s something there for a second, disappointment or sadness, and then it’s gone and Dean is simply concerned.
“Alright Sam hold on.”
It’s the look, or maybe the fact that Dean reverts back to his preferred name, that gets to Sam. His clenched fists open and Dean stops half-way to look at him.
“I want to-yeah let’s try it.”
Dean lights up in a way he usually reserves for pie and the Impala. He leans in and places a tender kiss on Sam’s thigh. “Okay Sammy. Let me get you ready baby and then it’s all gonna be amazing I promise.”
He has to rock onto his heels and then back to the balls of his feet to ease some of the ache as Dean fingers him open slow and sweet. The whole time his brother’s mouth is going a mile a minute spilling out filth Sam never even imagined coming from Dean.
“Look at you behaving so good for me. Your hole’s so puffy Sammy, already kinda open from when I fucked you last night and waiting for more. You can take so much in here. I’m already up to three fingers, and I can’t wait for more. Maybe one day I’m just gonna keep opening you. Get you so sloppy and loose with my fingers and my tongue that I could fit my whole hand in.”
Sam’s gasping, watching his erection re-form in the reflection as Dean works the fourth finger in. He feels the warm metal of Dean’s ring catch on his rim for a second and lets out a whimper as his brother eases the digit past the tight muscle.
“Would you like that Sammy? My whole hand up here working in you? My knuckles rubbing against your prostate and you so full and begging for more? You would y’know. You’d beg me to give you just a little bit more even though I had as much as you could fit inside.”
His hips are moving, rocking against Dean’s fingers, and the left stool wobbles dangerously. Sam fights to stay still as Dean chuckles darkly and pulls his fingers out.
“Gotta be careful there baby. Too much rocking and you’ll fall right off.” With that said Sam watches Dean’s knees bend in the mirror, eyes lingering on Dean’s erection, and then he sees what Dean’s about to do.
“Wait De-“ the words leave him as Dean moves the right stool a few inches out. Sam hangs on the ropes for a second as his slippery foot chases the stool. Dean moves the left one next and Sam’s only a little more prepared for it.
He’s spread more and forced up onto the balls of his feet. The tip of the dildo presses against his entrance and Dean’s facing him now suddenly right out in front and smiling proudly.
“Knew you’d look so pretty like this. Stretched to the limit and just ready. Just begging. God I love you. Look at you being so good for me.”
Sam fights his panic, fights the urge to rip at the ropes and run, and smiles tremulously. “Ye-yeah. Yes.”
He can do this. He can do this for Dean. “That’s my baby. That’s my little brother. Just give it up to me.” Dean strokes fingers up his cock before getting a good grip. Sam starts to squirm, and the head of the dildo presses against the first ring of muscle threateningly.
In the mirror his face and chest are flushed, he’s drenched in sweat, and there’s panic on his face barely concealed. Dean mouths along his balls, licking and nuzzling the sac, and that hand draws slow moans from Sam as his feet slip-slide and the stools rock.
“Dean please. Please.” He’s begging for release, begging to be let down before this goes any further, because Dean obviously wants to tease him but there’s no way he’ll let him fall right? The whole point of trusting Dean is knowing that he won’t let him fall.
Except Dean pushes the right stool with his foot as he keeps up the handjob, and Sam’s too distracted to notice in time. His foot slips off and hits the floor, and that slams the dildo into him halfway. He’s hanging from that arm now trying to pull himself up and off the intruding silicone.
“That’s it Sammy. Beg me.” Sam shakes his head and Dean watches tears trail down his face as he pulls harder to get away from it.
“Dean no. No please.”
Except Dean’s not listening. Too far gone in the fantasy to pick up on the difference between the no’s Sam gives in pleasure and the one he’s giving now in panic. That’s what the goddamn safeword is for. Dean pushes the other stool and Sam’s breath is punched out of him as he descends all the way.
It’s in him, huge and full, and Sam gasps and writhes as he uses all his upper body strength to try to pull himself up. When his arms tremble and give he slides back down, dildo pressing all the right spots and stimulating his prostate, but the painful burn and the terror are outweighing the pleasure. He shakes his head helplessly and tries to find his voice.
Dean’s sucking him off now, hot mouth wrapped around his cock and hands stroking his trembling thighs as Sam pushes up onto his toes to get off the silicone cock.
“Dean-Dea-please I-oh god-oh god please.” He needs to get off the dildo and he needs to come. The pull of fear against the burn of pleasure is making him crazy and he’s shaking too hard to formulate full sentences. To communicate that this is too much and too far.
“Stop, stop, god stop.” But Dean’s still going, still sucking him down and licking his shaft, and then suddenly the pressure and heat is gone.
It doesn’t take as long as he thought it would. Dean’s up in a flash tilting the pole and sliding the dildo out as softly as he can. His hands pull at the knots expertly and Sam collapses into his brother’s hold and shakes and sobs as Dean strokes his sweaty back and babbles.
“Sam. Sammy I’m sorry. Sorry. I thought-Jesus Sam I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t want the apologies but he needs the touches, needs the closeness, and when Dean tries to pull away Sam follows and clings like a little kid. It’ll be embarrassing later.
“Need you. Dean need you.”
So Dean stays.
---
It’s days later, and they haven’t talked about it. Dean doesn’t casually touch him anymore, and they don’t seem to be anywhere near each other even when they’re at the same table eating. Sam finds his breaking point fairly quickly.
He waits until Dean’s already in bed and then crawls in and curls up against his brother. He feels the tightness, the hesitation, and then Dean puts a gentle hand on the back of his neck and strokes him softly.
“I’m really sorry Sammy I-“
“We need rules. And a safeword.” One of the things Sam has always liked about this is that they didn’t need to analyze it or talk about it. He’s not Dean’s level of emotionally stunted, but that doesn’t mean he loves being vulnerable like this. Still, sometimes things have to be said.
Dean sucks in a sharp breath and then his lips are pressed against Sam’s. “You mean it?”
All Sam can do is nod. He didn’t like the pole game, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the rest of it. Doesn’t like showing Dean that he trusts him above all others, that he loves him, and that he can give Dean what he needs. Plus, he can admit to himself that the aftercare is well worth what comes before it.
He can do this for Dean, but more importantly he can do it for himself.
Wordcount: 2,951
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Warning(s): (highlight to reveal) Safewording
Contains: BDSM, Anal sex, Hurt/Comfort
Beta(s): Inspector 13,
sammichgirl, who I am infinitely indebted to.Disclaimer: I don't own what I built on, but I do own what I built. Song title from "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight" by Low Roar.
Summary: Dean begins to take advantage of finally having a home, and the privacy that comes with it. My first
smpc "entry!!Sam hates when Dean teases. Hates to have to wait and wait for completion as his brother takes his sweet time making sure that Sam reaches that place in between exhaustion and euphoria. Yet for all his complaints Sam never says no, and he never says stop.
That’s how he finds himself in this position. Ever since they got the bunker Dean has been flagrantly abusing the space and privacy. He can’t help but wonder if the Men of Letters would have approved of a fourth of Dean’s activity in their ultimate safe house. The first time Dean slid behind him in the kitchen and bent him over the countertop Sam had thought it was kinky.
Now he knows that all the years of furtive sex trying not to get caught by Dad, other hunters, or anyone who knew their status as siblings was no indicator for Dean’s real tastes. It started out small. Dean would slap his ass when he was buried inside of him or manhandle him a little. Sam liked it. Liked that he didn’t have to watch how loud he got or care whether or not Dean left marks.
He almost drew the line when Dean pulled out the rope. Getting tied up had never seemed very sexy to Sam considering it usually ended in torture or some other form of abuse. Except he’d rolled with it because there was this glint in Dean’s eyes and his brother’s cock was bouncing against his stomach leaking precome at just the thought.
So Sam let him, and it ended up being great. Pulling on the ropes and gasping Dean’s name as Dean twisted him this way and that to find the perfect angle and the preferred depth. There have been very few people on the planet that could take Sam in a fair fight, and knowing that he’s at the mercy of the only one he ever trusted is heady.
It’s a little like a drug.
The first time Dean brought out the leather cuffs, the kind dedicated to people who enjoyed being tied up and fucked, Sam started to wonder if Dean was being adventurous in response to their newfound home, or if he was finally giving in to something he’d wanted forever.
But it was ok, because Dean never got what he wanted. Always had to subsume his own desires in the interest of someone else, and usually that someone else was Sam. It was easy to nod and smile to the cuffs. From there things took a turn Sam didn’t exactly expect.
The spanking continued, ramped up, and Dean would spend hours licking and kissing his burning ass cheeks and murmuring how pretty the red was compared with the rest of his skin. The kinkier Dean got, the more violence and control that crept into their sex life, the more affectionate his brother became.
The first time he slapped a hand against Sam’s hole Sam jerked and cried out, and then Dean rimmed him for an hour leaving Sam weak and sloppy, saliva coating his ass and cum dripping from his stomach where’d he let go without his dick getting an ounce of friction.
It was too much, it wasn’t enough, and Sam just wanted more and less. He wanted Dean to explain what was happening, but he was afraid that if he asked Dean would stop and be unhappy again. They were fulfilling some secret wish, some hidden desire, and wasn’t that worth a little discomfort? It had to be, because they were too deep in it now for Sam to back out.
It progressed from there. The hunts they went on were unaffected, but when they were home together Dean had that odd mixture of solicitous and controlling all the time. He’d tie Sam’s hands behind his back and spend hours lazily fingering him until Sam was begging for something more through tears, and then he’d slide into him nice and slow before stroking his sides and praising him as he fucked his way to orgasm.
The first time Dean gagged him he handed Sam a ball, the kind they used to get out of vending machines and bounce off the walls of their motel rooms for hours, and told him to drop it if it got to be too much.
That, oddly enough, was when Sam finally figured out what was going on. It’s not like he’d never heard of BDSM before, or that he hadn’t seen a porno or two in his day, but applying that to them was never a thing Sam would have thought of on his own. Dean didn’t demand Sam call him master or sir, didn’t ask him limits or call him names, but there was the controlling and then the comforting. There was the pain mixed with the pleasure. Most importantly Dean was pushing Sam’s limits, finding a way to worm past the point when Sam’s defiance crumbled into pleading and begging.
And Sam begged. Sam begged every time. He begged for more and he begged for release, but most importantly he begged for Dean and that was something new. Before now the most Sam would do was order Dean to get in him, to stretch him wide and leave him gasping and wet. Now all the orders came from Dean.
He never dropped the ball, but he did shake and twist as Dean switched back and forth between fucking him with his tongue, slapping his ass and thighs cherry red, and sliding his cock in slow and torturous over and over again.
By the end of that session, or was it called a scene, Dean held him for a long time as Sam tried to get his heartbeat back to normal and his breathing in check. His brother’s hands were everywhere, gentle and sure, and Sam was pretty certain Dean was cooing into his hair. If he wasn’t shaking so hard he would have told Dean that it was unnecessary and Dean was making an ass out of himself. But he was shaking, and instead he slumped into Dean’s hold and let himself be petted and gentled.
It ramped up from there. Where Dean got the toys, when he learned to use them, and when he figured out how to mold Sam into being everything he wanted Sam had no idea. He’d never caught even a hint of this before. Sure Dean could be possessive, and a little rough at times, but nothing like the night he slipped the cock ring on Sam and then sucked him off until Dean’s jaw must have been numb.
Sam had cried for release that night too.
But all of it paled in comparison to this. Dean had led him into the room blindfolded, led Sam up a step ladder and then murmured for Sam to trust him before taking his left ankle and lifting it into empty space. Sam had let him. Let him lead his left foot over to a step stool a little bit away, and then Dean had taken his hands and lifted them up before tying his wrists in ropes suspended above his head. Sam wasn’t too far above the ground, he was pretty sure his toes could touch if he wanted them to, but spread out like this and restrained above the ground Sam felt unstable.
“You’re gonna love this so much Sammy. This is gonna be awesome, and I’m gonna take such good care of you.” Hands slid along his trembling thighs, cupped his cock for half a second, and then slid up his stomach and to his nipples. “We’re gonna see just how far you can go.”
The statement should freak him out, but Sam’s too busy soaking in the gentle touches and the raspy tone his brother gets whenever they’re in this position.
Then Dean takes the blindfold off.
Sam can see himself in the huge mirror mounted on the wall across from him. He’s standing fully spread on stools, his arms bound tightly to pipes set in the ceiling, and below him perfectly lined up with his ass is a pole attached to a heavy base. At the top of the pole is a rather formidably sized dildo.
“Dean what the fuck?” Sam’s pulse leaps and he starts to pull on the ropes. He’s never been less pleased that they’re both so well trained at restraining people.
Dean’s grin is dark, wicked, and in full view he pops the lube bottle open before squirting some out on his fingers. “Trust me Sammy. Just trust me.”
And Sam does trust him, but this is a little much. The sight of the dildo glistening beneath him, already lubed, and Dean circling him like a shark in the water has Sam’s feet slipping a bit on the stools as he shifts uncomfortably.
“Dean I just-this looks-I mean come on man. That thing is huge.” He can see his own eyes in the mirror’s reflection, too wide and with all the white showing, and Dean seems pleased by that look. He disappears behind Sam, and all that’s left is his voice and the lower half of him exposed behind Sam’s spread legs.
“You’ve had bigger Sammy. I know what you can take.”
But does he? Does he really? Because Sam’s been doing research, looking in to the sort of things they’ve been doing, and there are a lot of steps they’ve skipped. They don’t have rules, there was never an agreement set out, and there’s no safeword Sam can call on if things get really bad. He pulls on the ropes again and realizes how much he’s already sweating when his right foot slips a little.
“Dean I don’t think I can do this. Let me down.” His voice wavers, and Dean leans around the side of him. There’s something there for a second, disappointment or sadness, and then it’s gone and Dean is simply concerned.
“Alright Sam hold on.”
It’s the look, or maybe the fact that Dean reverts back to his preferred name, that gets to Sam. His clenched fists open and Dean stops half-way to look at him.
“I want to-yeah let’s try it.”
Dean lights up in a way he usually reserves for pie and the Impala. He leans in and places a tender kiss on Sam’s thigh. “Okay Sammy. Let me get you ready baby and then it’s all gonna be amazing I promise.”
He has to rock onto his heels and then back to the balls of his feet to ease some of the ache as Dean fingers him open slow and sweet. The whole time his brother’s mouth is going a mile a minute spilling out filth Sam never even imagined coming from Dean.
“Look at you behaving so good for me. Your hole’s so puffy Sammy, already kinda open from when I fucked you last night and waiting for more. You can take so much in here. I’m already up to three fingers, and I can’t wait for more. Maybe one day I’m just gonna keep opening you. Get you so sloppy and loose with my fingers and my tongue that I could fit my whole hand in.”
Sam’s gasping, watching his erection re-form in the reflection as Dean works the fourth finger in. He feels the warm metal of Dean’s ring catch on his rim for a second and lets out a whimper as his brother eases the digit past the tight muscle.
“Would you like that Sammy? My whole hand up here working in you? My knuckles rubbing against your prostate and you so full and begging for more? You would y’know. You’d beg me to give you just a little bit more even though I had as much as you could fit inside.”
His hips are moving, rocking against Dean’s fingers, and the left stool wobbles dangerously. Sam fights to stay still as Dean chuckles darkly and pulls his fingers out.
“Gotta be careful there baby. Too much rocking and you’ll fall right off.” With that said Sam watches Dean’s knees bend in the mirror, eyes lingering on Dean’s erection, and then he sees what Dean’s about to do.
“Wait De-“ the words leave him as Dean moves the right stool a few inches out. Sam hangs on the ropes for a second as his slippery foot chases the stool. Dean moves the left one next and Sam’s only a little more prepared for it.
He’s spread more and forced up onto the balls of his feet. The tip of the dildo presses against his entrance and Dean’s facing him now suddenly right out in front and smiling proudly.
“Knew you’d look so pretty like this. Stretched to the limit and just ready. Just begging. God I love you. Look at you being so good for me.”
Sam fights his panic, fights the urge to rip at the ropes and run, and smiles tremulously. “Ye-yeah. Yes.”
He can do this. He can do this for Dean. “That’s my baby. That’s my little brother. Just give it up to me.” Dean strokes fingers up his cock before getting a good grip. Sam starts to squirm, and the head of the dildo presses against the first ring of muscle threateningly.
In the mirror his face and chest are flushed, he’s drenched in sweat, and there’s panic on his face barely concealed. Dean mouths along his balls, licking and nuzzling the sac, and that hand draws slow moans from Sam as his feet slip-slide and the stools rock.
“Dean please. Please.” He’s begging for release, begging to be let down before this goes any further, because Dean obviously wants to tease him but there’s no way he’ll let him fall right? The whole point of trusting Dean is knowing that he won’t let him fall.
Except Dean pushes the right stool with his foot as he keeps up the handjob, and Sam’s too distracted to notice in time. His foot slips off and hits the floor, and that slams the dildo into him halfway. He’s hanging from that arm now trying to pull himself up and off the intruding silicone.
“That’s it Sammy. Beg me.” Sam shakes his head and Dean watches tears trail down his face as he pulls harder to get away from it.
“Dean no. No please.”
Except Dean’s not listening. Too far gone in the fantasy to pick up on the difference between the no’s Sam gives in pleasure and the one he’s giving now in panic. That’s what the goddamn safeword is for. Dean pushes the other stool and Sam’s breath is punched out of him as he descends all the way.
It’s in him, huge and full, and Sam gasps and writhes as he uses all his upper body strength to try to pull himself up. When his arms tremble and give he slides back down, dildo pressing all the right spots and stimulating his prostate, but the painful burn and the terror are outweighing the pleasure. He shakes his head helplessly and tries to find his voice.
Dean’s sucking him off now, hot mouth wrapped around his cock and hands stroking his trembling thighs as Sam pushes up onto his toes to get off the silicone cock.
“Dean-Dea-please I-oh god-oh god please.” He needs to get off the dildo and he needs to come. The pull of fear against the burn of pleasure is making him crazy and he’s shaking too hard to formulate full sentences. To communicate that this is too much and too far.
“Stop, stop, god stop.” But Dean’s still going, still sucking him down and licking his shaft, and then suddenly the pressure and heat is gone.
It doesn’t take as long as he thought it would. Dean’s up in a flash tilting the pole and sliding the dildo out as softly as he can. His hands pull at the knots expertly and Sam collapses into his brother’s hold and shakes and sobs as Dean strokes his sweaty back and babbles.
“Sam. Sammy I’m sorry. Sorry. I thought-Jesus Sam I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t want the apologies but he needs the touches, needs the closeness, and when Dean tries to pull away Sam follows and clings like a little kid. It’ll be embarrassing later.
“Need you. Dean need you.”
So Dean stays.
---
It’s days later, and they haven’t talked about it. Dean doesn’t casually touch him anymore, and they don’t seem to be anywhere near each other even when they’re at the same table eating. Sam finds his breaking point fairly quickly.
He waits until Dean’s already in bed and then crawls in and curls up against his brother. He feels the tightness, the hesitation, and then Dean puts a gentle hand on the back of his neck and strokes him softly.
“I’m really sorry Sammy I-“
“We need rules. And a safeword.” One of the things Sam has always liked about this is that they didn’t need to analyze it or talk about it. He’s not Dean’s level of emotionally stunted, but that doesn’t mean he loves being vulnerable like this. Still, sometimes things have to be said.
Dean sucks in a sharp breath and then his lips are pressed against Sam’s. “You mean it?”
All Sam can do is nod. He didn’t like the pole game, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the rest of it. Doesn’t like showing Dean that he trusts him above all others, that he loves him, and that he can give Dean what he needs. Plus, he can admit to himself that the aftercare is well worth what comes before it.
He can do this for Dean, but more importantly he can do it for himself.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 11:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 11:36 am (UTC)I couldn't stop reading. My hand was over my face some of the time.
And your brain is a fitlhy wonderful place <3
no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 05:06 pm (UTC)So glad you liked it, and thanks for reading and reviewing!
no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 02:19 pm (UTC)Congrats on yummy Sunday Morning Porn Club success! (does this mean I get weekly porn? This inspector job has awesome benefits!)
no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 05:07 pm (UTC)Don't worry, I'll supply you with all the porn I can write Shoe. Gotta boost the economy.
no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 02:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 02:39 pm (UTC)Hot, filthy and all those emotions. I really kinda loved how it progressed for them even though Dean obviously should have said something before, but hey, that's just how he works. I really liked where you left this, that they're gonna do it right now :)
no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 05:08 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked it, and thanks for reading and reviewing, and letting me join!!
no subject
Date: 2013-06-16 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-17 07:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-17 07:32 pm (UTC)