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SPN fic: A Kind of Hush (Dean/Sam, wincest)

Posted on 2009.08.03 at 22:12
Current Mood: cheerfulcheerful
Tags: , , ,
Title: A Kind of Hush
Fandom: Supernatural
Word Count: 1,500
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Warnings: WINCEST. Fear-of-discovery. Breathplay (very mild)
A/N: Written for spnkink_meme. Posted there anonymously, before I read the comm rules properly and discovered you don't actually have to be anonymous there! Which is nice, because I can now post it here and not lose it forever like I usually do with meme fics.

(Just remembered I promised to write LoM before I did SPN again. Curses. Looks like I'll have to give the whole Ficathon thing proper consideration.)


Dean woke slowly to the warmth of morning sunshine on his face and the mouth-watering scent of good strong coffee filling his nostrils. He cracked open one eye, rewarded by the sight of a chipped mug at close range.

“Dude,” he murmured, voice sleep-husky. “I take it all back. You’re the most awesome brother in the world.” He stretched lazily, pushing up onto an elbow to reach for the caffeine fix he craved. Grasped thin air as Sam moved the mug just out of reach.

“Dangerous game, Sammy.” He was fully awake now, hovering somewhere between amused and irritated. “No-one ever tell you what happens if you come between a man and his coffee?”

“Enlighten me.” Sam’s smile was far from reassuring, and Dean tired of the teasing.

“It’s a bad plan, is all. Look, hand it over.”

Sam’s smile grew broader, a flash of white teeth. “All in good time, Dean.” His voice was low, barely more than a murmur. Lifting the mug to his lips, he took a gulp of coffee. Dean bristled, indignant.

“Hey! You’re...” The barely-formed insult died stillborn somewhere between brain and mouth, as Sam set the mug carefully down, leaned in to join his lips with his brother’s, coffee trickling hot and smooth between them. Dean swallowed, carefully, tongue darting out to lick the taste straight from Sam’s mouth.

“Wow. Congratulations, Sammy. That’s officially the grossest thing that ever happened to me.” The words belied by the heat pooling in his gut, the blood filling out his cock. He pushed a hand inside Sam’s shirt, relishing the warmth beneath his fingers.

“Hey. How long we got?”

“Till what?” Sam sounded genuinely puzzled. Dean rolled his eyes, a wasted effort when his face was all but buried in Sam’s neck.

“Till Bobby gets back, dumbass.” Muscles bunched beneath his questing hands as Sam shifted position, turning his head so his lips were almost touching Dean’s ear, whispered words ghosting over suddenly overheated skin, shivering though him.

“Bobby?“ Soft laugh huffed across his neck, raising goosebumps. “Bobby’s not gone anywhere, Dean. He’s through there, working.”

What?” Dean realised he was shouting, tried to moderate his tone, resulting in a kind of strangled hiss. “What the hell? You could have closed the door at least.” He cast a frantic glance towards the door, his imagination placing Bobby firmly in the frame, hands on hips, glowering down at them. Thankfully, reality held no such nasty surprises, Bobby was nowhere in sight, but the door was definitely ajar, not affording even the minimal soundproofing the light wood might have given them.

He shoved hard at Sam’s chest. Apparently, though, Sam had been anticipating this move, leaning in to trap Dean’s hands between them, arms circling round to hold him in place. Tongue flicking out to run lazily across Dean’s lower lip. Dean stifled a groan, trying to ignore the twitching of his ever-hardening cock.

“S-sam.” Definitely not the firm resolved tone he’d been aiming for. He took a breath, tried again.

“Sam. Cut it out, goddammit. Bobby’ll hear everything.”

Sam pulled back far enough that he could meet Dean’s gaze head-on, and now his grin was positively feral.

“Oh really?” He pulled down the covers, running an eye appreciatively over Dean’s near-nakedness. “Then I guess you’ll have to be really...” he climbed on top of Dean, straddling him “...really...” he lowered his head, dropping a light kiss on Dean’s chest “...quiet.”

Without warning, his mouth clamped over one exposed nipple, teeth grazing lightly over the taut nub. Dean arched back off the bed as far as his restricted position would allow, shoving a fist into his mouth to hold back the gasp dragged from him at the explosion of sensation.

Sam pulled off to look at him, expression speculative. “Maybe I should gag you. You want that, Dean?” And Dean never would have believed he could be this close to coming with so little contact, but the dark promise of Sam’s whispered words was almost stimulation enough. He shook his head, eyes wide, fighting to get his breathing and his body under some sort of control.

Sam nodded, satisfied. “Okay. Good. Lie still.”

He moved down to the foot of the bed, pulling the covers all the way off, mouth descending to suckle on a toe, tongue swirling round as his hands stroked with breathtaking gentleness over Dean’s ankles and calves. Slowly, methodically, Sam worked his way up his brother, and by the time he leant in to draw a long wet stripe over his inner thigh Dean was trembling all over, fist chewed raw with the effort of keeping silent, unable to hold back soft desperate whimpers. Sam continued his journey, tongue stroking upwards till it ran out of thigh, mouth working wetly at Dean’s balls through his boxers, and oh god how Dean managed not to scream or come there and then was a miracle in itself.

“Shhh.” The sound rippled through every nerve as Sam eased down Dean’s shorts, freeing his straining cock. “Not a sound, remember?”

And, before Dean had a chance to get his breath, Sam’s mouth closed in, engulfing his length in moist heat, pulling him in with shocking speed and uncompromising pressure, drawing back only to thrust down hard, again and again, clever gentle fingers replacing the tongue on Dean’s balls. Dean gripped the sheet beneath him, hands clenching and unclenching reflexively, the sensation so exquisite that he thought he might die of it.

“AhSam!” The exclamation wrung from him without conscious thought, as Sam did something wickedly clever with his tongue which seemed to have the effect of making every muscle in Dean’s body clench involuntarily. Sam pulled back at the sound, and the sense of loss was almost too much to bear. “No...”

“It’s okay, Dean,” Sam whispered. “Give me a moment.” He stripped away his own clothes in record time, coming to lie flush on top of his brother, one huge hand clamping firmly over Dean’s mouth. “There. That oughta help.”

Dean couldn’t resist the temptation to flick out his tongue, savouring the salt taste, noting with satisfaction the answering tremor that ran through the body pressed to his. He caught Sam’s eye, winked with what he hoped was casual jauntiness. Sam grinned back, slow and easy. Brought his free hand up in front of them and, holding eye contact, licked clear across the palm. Dean’s pulse rate spiked at the gesture, and he tried to take a deep breath. Found that he couldn’t, the hand clamped over his mouth preventing all but the shallowest breathing. And damn if that wasn’t more arousing still.

Sam lifted his hips slightly, wrapped his hand around both their cocks, his large grip easily encompassing them both. Smooth and sticky with spit and precome, he found a steady rhythm, stroking and then pulling with increasing pressure. Dean’s hips jerked as heat gathered and rose within him, groans and inarticulate curses, pleas maybe, lost in the unrelenting weight across his mouth.

His breathing became ragged, the edges of his vision blurring as the lack of air began to tell. Sam held his gaze throughout, pupils blown wide with his own arousal, a telltale fluttering of his eyelids signalling that he was as close as Dean was. The rhythm faltered, the strokes more frantic now, harder, and Dean’s balls contracted, heat flaring. And then Sam did something complicated with his hand, a twist of his wrist and a swipe of his thumb in just the exact right way, and that was it for Dean. Eyes screwed shut, stars dancing behind the lids, he came apart, hot spurts of liquid gushing between Sam’s fingers. Sam’s breath hitched, fist clenching round them almost to the point of pain as he tugged harder, three times, maybe four – Dean was so far past keeping count that it wasn’t even funny – then came, hard, Dean’s name chanted over and over again, a litany on his tongue.

Moments passed, days maybe, before Sam found the energy to roll off Dean. The two lay, side by side, breathing ragged, heartbeats gradually coming back down to normal, basking in a sense of peace, of rightness, that was all too hard to come by among the chaos and violence that formed such a fundamental part of their existence.

A perfect moment, or as close to perfect as it got, shattered with startling suddenness by the crash of the outer door slamming open.

“I’m back!” Bobby’s voice. Dean’s eyes flew open. “Don’t tell me you two idle boneheads are still in your pits. Day’s a-wastin’.”

Dean grabbed for the covers as Sam scrambled to put on his clothes.

“Sam,” he hissed. “You said...you...Bobby...”

Sam’s grin was guilt free. “Come on, Dean,” he said airily. “You don’t think I’d really have done all that with him in the next room. That’d be mad.”

Dean’s head plonked back onto the pillow. “Bitch,” he managed, before giving in and allowing sleep to claim him.

Comments:


Callisto
callistosh65 at 2009-08-04 05:45 (UTC) (Link)
He. Sooooo nice to see you SPN-ing again, my friend. And what a nice bit of erotic play this is. Love how Sam sets it up with the coffee and the open door.. and all that need for quiet is as erotic as hell. Oh, and the twist at the end is an excellent touch - thank you!
MacByrne
macbyrne at 2009-11-05 00:46 (UTC) (Link)
Holy hell that was hot. I love controlling!Sam, and this was so beautifully done; the thought that Bobby was just in the next room...WOW. So damn good.
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-11-05 21:21 (UTC) (Link)
Thank you! Controlling!Sam is pretty awesome, and I do seem to keep getting drawn back there - although I think that may have more to do with who's getting controlled! (I do love me some vulnerable!Dean!) Glad the hot worked for you. :D
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