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Entry tags:
After the Prom, Supernatural, Keeper Verse, NC-17
Please consider yourself warned that this is dirtybadwrong, unrepentant porn.
Title: After the Prom
Characters: Sam/Dean (alas, no Aristotle, as she was hiding as far away in the house as possible when this occurred)
Rating: NC-17 (completely & totally explicit)
Word Count: 2400
Disclaimer: Not mine - just playing.
Summary: Written by my friend M, KEEPER!VERSE. Follows immediately after Am's The Seduction of Scott, Part 22 (The Prom). Can be read as a standalone PWP.
Beta'd by the wonderful![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wandereringray - thanks!
Excerpt from Seduction of Scott, Part 22 (The Prom)
Dean raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. “I know something else that’s hard.”
Sam leaned over the seat to whisper in his ear. “That’s because you’re a slut.”
“No, I think it’s because you left me hanging.” Dean countered. “And, I think it’s my turn.”
“I beat you once tonight. Do I have to do it again?”
Dean’s smile was wicked as he reached for Sam, fisting a hand in his t-shirt before he yanked, tearing the material enough that Dean’s hand could cup his nipple. “No fighting. I win. Get in the house and get naked.”
“I thought I told you to get naked?” Dean drawled from the bedroom doorway between swallows from his full-to-the-brim glass of Jack Daniels.
Sam was staring out the window, fully dressed. “Um, yeah, sorry.” And he reached to pull off his shirt while kicking off his shoes and turning to face his brother.
“Whoa there Sammy. What’s going on in that head?” Dean crossed the room, put a hand on Sam’s chest.
“Nuthin’ a little fuckin’ won’t improve.” Sam bent down to nuzzle Dean’s neck.
“Far be it for me to turn that down but I know that dark and stormy look. Out with it,” Dean snapped his fingers.
Sam straightened and exhaled. “She’s unhappy. Well not unhappy exactly but not…”
“Dana’ll survive her prom fiasco, Sam. Of course she’s disappointed. She spent weeks and drove us nuts trying to make it perfect. And well, zombies tend to fuck things up.”
Sam turned back to stare out the window. Dean leaned around him to see what was so damn mesmerizing. The street was empty, all the neighbors houses were dark. Nothing out there but a few night flood lights casting an eerie glow across the driveways. Dean lowered his hand to rest on Sam’s bare back.
“Not the prom, Dean. Well, that didn’t help. It’s college. I know she doesn’t want to go and it’s my fault.”
Dean moved his hand to Sam’s chest and then lowered it to stroke up and down Sam’s abs, marveling at the ripples. Sam always had a smokin’ hot body, even with the scars and all of his prior physical limitations. Ever since discovering his healing power and with all the endless climbing of the past months, Sam now was solid, toned, hard all over. Dean traced his fingers along the top of Sam’s six pack, down the middle, around the edges. Sam shivered. Dean smirked.
“She’s never wanted to go. Why is it bugging you tonight?”
Dean resented that a known and overly discussed issue of conflict was rearing its ugly head and frankly keeping him from getting a little head. It’d been hours since he’d been on the verge and was so rudely interrupted by the freakin’ zombie attack. He wanted to get off and get some sleep. But, Sam needed to talk. Dean adjusted his jeans to ease the pressure on his erection. “Sam, seriously. This isn’t news. Let’s just get some sleep.”
With Sam stuck in navel gazing mode, the situation wasn’t conducive to Dean getting off any time soon. Dean figured he’d cut his losses and settle for sleep, whack off solo if necessary.
Dean pulled Sam in the direction of their bed. Sam spoke up, “You don’t think she should go either, do you? You’re supporting me to her but you really don’t.”
There it was. Pandora’s Box just shimmering with its desire to be propped open and have the contents released.
“Tomorrow Sam. When we’re fresh, not wiped out.” Dean tried to herd Sam to the bed.
“You sleep. I’m going to go downstairs.” Sam kissed Dean on the forehead.
Dean shrugged in response, too tired to argue. Sleep sounded good. He finished his drink in one big swallow and took the remaining three steps to the bed, stripped to his boxers and threw himself down.
Dean listened while Sam walked out of the room then reached into his boxers and pulled out his dick, stroked it up and down. Dean rolled onto his back, let his legs fall open, closed his eyes, tightened his grip and pumped his arm, enjoying the instant sense of relief at finally giving his cock some long overdue attention. Dean stroked, felt his dick swell even further, pumped his hips and allowed an audible groan to escape.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Sam muttered from the doorway.
Dean’s hand froze, he opened one eye to see Sam leaning on the door jamb, hand down the front of his pants obviously rubbing his cock while enjoying the show.
“So, we gonna jack off watching each other or you want to get seriously busy?” Dean joked, resuming motion with his right hand.
“Thought you were tired,” Sam challenged.
“Thought you were stuck in your head,” Dean taunted back.
Sam shoved down his pants to reveal the head of his cock. “I vote for seriously busy and putting this head in the same place it was a few hours ago.”
“No baby. I touched skin first. My turn.” Dean half sat up, still stroking his dick slow and easy, definitely showing off.
In a quick, fluid motion, Sam crossed the room and threw himself on Dean, pinning him to the bed and causing his breath to whoosh out.
“Who’s on top here baybeee?” Sam dragged out the vowels while positioning his legs on top of Dean’s to prevent squirming. Dean’s dick leaked a trail of precome in reply.
Sam slapped Dean’s hand to get Dean to release his grip on his dick then bit his neck, hard.
“How come you went from moody bitch to dominant bastard in about two minutes?” Dean asked, quickly followed by a hiss in response to the pressure on his neck.
Sam smirked and pressed his weight down to provide a bit of friction for Dean’s leaking cock and rolled his hips. With cocks aligned, Sam undulated twice causing Dean to gasp and attempt to writhe. Sam bit the same spot on Dean’s neck again and growled, “Rubbing your cock like a little abandoned boy. Hot as hell.” Sam rolled his hips again, bit the same spot for a third time eliciting a groan and mumbled, “I’ll fret tomorrow, gonna own your ass right now.”
Then in smooth movement, Sam released his weight off Dean, grabbed him by the waist, flipped him onto his belly and slapped his ass soundly, leaving an immediate red mark. “All fours babe. Ass in the air. Now,” Sam commanded. “And don’t you dare touch yourself.”
Dean turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw Sam’s standing by the bed, looking down at him. Sam repeated, “I said all fours.”
He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, thrusting his ass out, as ordered.
Dean wanted to object, wanted to assert that it was his turn. But he knew he wouldn’t win with Sam in this mood. But, that didn’t mean a bit of a struggle wouldn’t make things interesting.
Just like that, he was suddenly and literally surrounded by Sam. Sam wrapped himself around Dean’s back and was running his short nails up and down Dean’s chest, leaving scratch marks in their wake. He stopped at his right nipple, gripped it between his thumb and forefinger and pinched, holding it vise-like. The pain of it coursed through Dean, down to his toes.
In his left ear, Dean heard, “Tell me what you want baby.”
Dean replied, “I want to top.”
That earned Dean a slap between his legs, stunning his ball sac. Dean hissed.
“Bad answer,” Dean heard in his ear. “Try again.” Followed by another prolonged vise grip on his nipple.
“I want,” Dean hissed as Sam’s long fingers dug into his hips and altered his position slightly. “I want you to get on all fours and suck my cock.”
Another slap to his balls, a bit more intense, causing a moan of pain to escape from Dean’s lips despite his attempt to stifle it. Again in the ear, “I’m going to tie you down and sincerely torture you if I don’t get the right answer this time, baby.”
Dean knew his seeming defiance was yanking Sam’s chain exactly in the right way. He felt Sam’s engorged cock between his ass cheeks and felt Sam’s heat across their mental connection, nasty and needy. From experience, Dean knew that Sam, in this emotional state, was about two seconds from stopping the game, just taking what he needed and feeling painfully guilty afterward. There was no more time left for Dean to attempt to regain dominance, it was time to willingly submit.
Sam pinched both nipples and with a deadly, low tone asked one more time, “What do you want me to do to you?”
Dean lowered his head into the position signaling his complete submission and replied in a precise tone, “I want you to take what you need.”
“Good motherfucking answer.” Sam thrust two lubed fingers into Dean in one fast, unforgiving motion.
Dean moaned and pushed back, arms collapsing and head dropping to the mattress. “You are such a slut Dean. Can’t even go to sleep without getting off, no matter how worn down. You crave to submit to this cock of mine, don’t you?”
Sam pulled his fingers out and before Dean could take a breath, Sam buried his cock in Dean in one bruising plunge. Dean screamed out, both from the force of the intrusion and from the waves of possessiveness radiating off Sam. Sam grabbed Dean’s waist and sat him up into his lap.
“Ride me slut. Grind down on it.” And Sam used his arms to move Dean’s hips to writhe on his dick. Then Sam repositioned his arms to encircle Dean’s waist and used the other hand to pull on Dean’s hair, yanking his head back.
Again in the ear, Dean heard the order, “Ride it.” Dean moved up and down, undulating on Sam’s cock, feeling the burn. Sam’s arm tightened around his waist, pulling Dean closer to him and causing Sam’s cock to hit Dean’s prostate dead on. Dean yelled as the pleasure rolled up his spine, seeming to explode at the base of his neck. Dean worked up and then down, riding Sam, wantonly moaning out a filthy litany of, “Sam, fuck, harder, please, yours Sam, Sammy, Sammy, harder, Sammy, yours, own me, fuck me, own me, please babe, please, please, please.”
Dean pulled up to the point where only the head of Sam’s cock breached him and then slammed down. The position was awkward. It hurt, no denying it, Sam’s fist in his hair causing pain in his neck and Sam’s iron grasp on his waist causing his hips to ache. But the angle on his prostate was perfect, hitting it dead center each stroke, adding intense pleasure to the mix. And he could tell, from the way Sam’s fist tightened its grasp on his hair, it was working for Sam too.
It was crystal clear that Sam needed to sexually own him tonight. And Dean had no objection to that.
Then, in a blink, Sam tossed Dean forward, up and off his lap, to land face down on the bed, while somehow keeping his dick buried inside. Dean yelped. Sam grabbed Dean’s hips to angle them slightly upwards and just started to pound him mercilessly. A stream of filth, “ohgodyouslutloveyourassfuckownthisass” poured out of Sam’s mouth. Dean felt Sam tense, knowing that Sam’s orgasm was imminent. But, instead of riding his orgasm to its completion buried inside Dean, Sam pulled out and ejaculated all over Dean’s ass. Then he reached down and spread come all over Dean’s hole, working some inside.
Sam slapped Dean’s ass and muttered, “Sit still slut.”
Dean inhaled shallowly, truly not knowing what to expect next, and didn’t move a muscle. Sam typically collapsed and cuddled after his orgasm but clearly that wasn’t on the menu for tonight. Dean’s cock ached; it had been hard for hours and he desperately wanted to reach down and end this himself. But he knew Sam had other ideas which didn’t include Dean getting himself off.
In two beats, three very slick fingers breeched Dean. “Not done with you baby.”
Sam thrust his fingers in deeply. “You’re mine tonight.” The combination of lube and come helped ease the burn but Sam’s three thick digits were merciless, scissoring and abusing Dean’s prostate. Dean felt tears roll down his cheeks. He tried to thrust into the bed to escape but Sam had him pinned.
Dean felt Sam’s thumb join his fingers. “You gonna fist me Sammy?” he asked low and guttural, surprised he could form words at all.
In reply, Sam added his last finger, curling his hand inwards. Dean cried out but managed to suppress the all-out sob rising up in his chest. Sam used his other arm to pin Dean completely. “Take it Dean.”
Dean once again lowered his head into its submissive posture. He felt the familiar tightening low in his belly and exhaled loudly. He didn’t know how Sam would react to his impending orgasm but he knew there was nothing he could do to stave it off. The pleasure and pain of Sam’s fist buried in his ass, completely owning him, had him teetering on the edge. Dean grabbed fistfuls of the sheet in desperation and held on tight as Sam slowed his hand to thrust in and out methodically. Dean screamed, shoving his face into the mattress in an attempt to muffle as much of the sound as possible.
“Your ass is spread so wide for me, fuck.” Sam muttered. Dean inhaled, his orgasm was seconds away, then he felt another intrusion. Sam’s hand was wrapped around his cock. Hand and cock penetrated Dean. Dean let out a loud, long yell. Then his orgasm slammed home, come soaking the sheets beneath him, as his scream altered its tone and grew in volume from the relief and bliss of his release. He felt Sam’s hand and cock continue to thrust in and out until Sam’s hot come filled his ass about thirty seconds later.
Sam extricated himself and collapsed on top of him.
“You fucking toppy bastard,” Dean somehow managed.
Sam wiped the sweat off his face. “You offered getting seriously busy. I just complied with your offer.” Then, two second later, “You have a great ass baby.”
Sam reached over and pulled Dean into him, wrapping his body protectively around him, kissed the back of his head and whispered into his ear, “Mine baby, every bit of you, in every way, always mine.”
Title: After the Prom
Characters: Sam/Dean (alas, no Aristotle, as she was hiding as far away in the house as possible when this occurred)
Rating: NC-17 (completely & totally explicit)
Word Count: 2400
Disclaimer: Not mine - just playing.
Summary: Written by my friend M, KEEPER!VERSE. Follows immediately after Am's The Seduction of Scott, Part 22 (The Prom). Can be read as a standalone PWP.
Beta'd by the wonderful
wandereringray - thanks!Excerpt from Seduction of Scott, Part 22 (The Prom)
Dean raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. “I know something else that’s hard.”
Sam leaned over the seat to whisper in his ear. “That’s because you’re a slut.”
“No, I think it’s because you left me hanging.” Dean countered. “And, I think it’s my turn.”
“I beat you once tonight. Do I have to do it again?”
Dean’s smile was wicked as he reached for Sam, fisting a hand in his t-shirt before he yanked, tearing the material enough that Dean’s hand could cup his nipple. “No fighting. I win. Get in the house and get naked.”
“I thought I told you to get naked?” Dean drawled from the bedroom doorway between swallows from his full-to-the-brim glass of Jack Daniels.
Sam was staring out the window, fully dressed. “Um, yeah, sorry.” And he reached to pull off his shirt while kicking off his shoes and turning to face his brother.
“Whoa there Sammy. What’s going on in that head?” Dean crossed the room, put a hand on Sam’s chest.
“Nuthin’ a little fuckin’ won’t improve.” Sam bent down to nuzzle Dean’s neck.
“Far be it for me to turn that down but I know that dark and stormy look. Out with it,” Dean snapped his fingers.
Sam straightened and exhaled. “She’s unhappy. Well not unhappy exactly but not…”
“Dana’ll survive her prom fiasco, Sam. Of course she’s disappointed. She spent weeks and drove us nuts trying to make it perfect. And well, zombies tend to fuck things up.”
Sam turned back to stare out the window. Dean leaned around him to see what was so damn mesmerizing. The street was empty, all the neighbors houses were dark. Nothing out there but a few night flood lights casting an eerie glow across the driveways. Dean lowered his hand to rest on Sam’s bare back.
“Not the prom, Dean. Well, that didn’t help. It’s college. I know she doesn’t want to go and it’s my fault.”
Dean moved his hand to Sam’s chest and then lowered it to stroke up and down Sam’s abs, marveling at the ripples. Sam always had a smokin’ hot body, even with the scars and all of his prior physical limitations. Ever since discovering his healing power and with all the endless climbing of the past months, Sam now was solid, toned, hard all over. Dean traced his fingers along the top of Sam’s six pack, down the middle, around the edges. Sam shivered. Dean smirked.
“She’s never wanted to go. Why is it bugging you tonight?”
Dean resented that a known and overly discussed issue of conflict was rearing its ugly head and frankly keeping him from getting a little head. It’d been hours since he’d been on the verge and was so rudely interrupted by the freakin’ zombie attack. He wanted to get off and get some sleep. But, Sam needed to talk. Dean adjusted his jeans to ease the pressure on his erection. “Sam, seriously. This isn’t news. Let’s just get some sleep.”
With Sam stuck in navel gazing mode, the situation wasn’t conducive to Dean getting off any time soon. Dean figured he’d cut his losses and settle for sleep, whack off solo if necessary.
Dean pulled Sam in the direction of their bed. Sam spoke up, “You don’t think she should go either, do you? You’re supporting me to her but you really don’t.”
There it was. Pandora’s Box just shimmering with its desire to be propped open and have the contents released.
“Tomorrow Sam. When we’re fresh, not wiped out.” Dean tried to herd Sam to the bed.
“You sleep. I’m going to go downstairs.” Sam kissed Dean on the forehead.
Dean shrugged in response, too tired to argue. Sleep sounded good. He finished his drink in one big swallow and took the remaining three steps to the bed, stripped to his boxers and threw himself down.
Dean listened while Sam walked out of the room then reached into his boxers and pulled out his dick, stroked it up and down. Dean rolled onto his back, let his legs fall open, closed his eyes, tightened his grip and pumped his arm, enjoying the instant sense of relief at finally giving his cock some long overdue attention. Dean stroked, felt his dick swell even further, pumped his hips and allowed an audible groan to escape.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Sam muttered from the doorway.
Dean’s hand froze, he opened one eye to see Sam leaning on the door jamb, hand down the front of his pants obviously rubbing his cock while enjoying the show.
“So, we gonna jack off watching each other or you want to get seriously busy?” Dean joked, resuming motion with his right hand.
“Thought you were tired,” Sam challenged.
“Thought you were stuck in your head,” Dean taunted back.
Sam shoved down his pants to reveal the head of his cock. “I vote for seriously busy and putting this head in the same place it was a few hours ago.”
“No baby. I touched skin first. My turn.” Dean half sat up, still stroking his dick slow and easy, definitely showing off.
In a quick, fluid motion, Sam crossed the room and threw himself on Dean, pinning him to the bed and causing his breath to whoosh out.
“Who’s on top here baybeee?” Sam dragged out the vowels while positioning his legs on top of Dean’s to prevent squirming. Dean’s dick leaked a trail of precome in reply.
Sam slapped Dean’s hand to get Dean to release his grip on his dick then bit his neck, hard.
“How come you went from moody bitch to dominant bastard in about two minutes?” Dean asked, quickly followed by a hiss in response to the pressure on his neck.
Sam smirked and pressed his weight down to provide a bit of friction for Dean’s leaking cock and rolled his hips. With cocks aligned, Sam undulated twice causing Dean to gasp and attempt to writhe. Sam bit the same spot on Dean’s neck again and growled, “Rubbing your cock like a little abandoned boy. Hot as hell.” Sam rolled his hips again, bit the same spot for a third time eliciting a groan and mumbled, “I’ll fret tomorrow, gonna own your ass right now.”
Then in smooth movement, Sam released his weight off Dean, grabbed him by the waist, flipped him onto his belly and slapped his ass soundly, leaving an immediate red mark. “All fours babe. Ass in the air. Now,” Sam commanded. “And don’t you dare touch yourself.”
Dean turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw Sam’s standing by the bed, looking down at him. Sam repeated, “I said all fours.”
He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, thrusting his ass out, as ordered.
Dean wanted to object, wanted to assert that it was his turn. But he knew he wouldn’t win with Sam in this mood. But, that didn’t mean a bit of a struggle wouldn’t make things interesting.
Just like that, he was suddenly and literally surrounded by Sam. Sam wrapped himself around Dean’s back and was running his short nails up and down Dean’s chest, leaving scratch marks in their wake. He stopped at his right nipple, gripped it between his thumb and forefinger and pinched, holding it vise-like. The pain of it coursed through Dean, down to his toes.
In his left ear, Dean heard, “Tell me what you want baby.”
Dean replied, “I want to top.”
That earned Dean a slap between his legs, stunning his ball sac. Dean hissed.
“Bad answer,” Dean heard in his ear. “Try again.” Followed by another prolonged vise grip on his nipple.
“I want,” Dean hissed as Sam’s long fingers dug into his hips and altered his position slightly. “I want you to get on all fours and suck my cock.”
Another slap to his balls, a bit more intense, causing a moan of pain to escape from Dean’s lips despite his attempt to stifle it. Again in the ear, “I’m going to tie you down and sincerely torture you if I don’t get the right answer this time, baby.”
Dean knew his seeming defiance was yanking Sam’s chain exactly in the right way. He felt Sam’s engorged cock between his ass cheeks and felt Sam’s heat across their mental connection, nasty and needy. From experience, Dean knew that Sam, in this emotional state, was about two seconds from stopping the game, just taking what he needed and feeling painfully guilty afterward. There was no more time left for Dean to attempt to regain dominance, it was time to willingly submit.
Sam pinched both nipples and with a deadly, low tone asked one more time, “What do you want me to do to you?”
Dean lowered his head into the position signaling his complete submission and replied in a precise tone, “I want you to take what you need.”
“Good motherfucking answer.” Sam thrust two lubed fingers into Dean in one fast, unforgiving motion.
Dean moaned and pushed back, arms collapsing and head dropping to the mattress. “You are such a slut Dean. Can’t even go to sleep without getting off, no matter how worn down. You crave to submit to this cock of mine, don’t you?”
Sam pulled his fingers out and before Dean could take a breath, Sam buried his cock in Dean in one bruising plunge. Dean screamed out, both from the force of the intrusion and from the waves of possessiveness radiating off Sam. Sam grabbed Dean’s waist and sat him up into his lap.
“Ride me slut. Grind down on it.” And Sam used his arms to move Dean’s hips to writhe on his dick. Then Sam repositioned his arms to encircle Dean’s waist and used the other hand to pull on Dean’s hair, yanking his head back.
Again in the ear, Dean heard the order, “Ride it.” Dean moved up and down, undulating on Sam’s cock, feeling the burn. Sam’s arm tightened around his waist, pulling Dean closer to him and causing Sam’s cock to hit Dean’s prostate dead on. Dean yelled as the pleasure rolled up his spine, seeming to explode at the base of his neck. Dean worked up and then down, riding Sam, wantonly moaning out a filthy litany of, “Sam, fuck, harder, please, yours Sam, Sammy, Sammy, harder, Sammy, yours, own me, fuck me, own me, please babe, please, please, please.”
Dean pulled up to the point where only the head of Sam’s cock breached him and then slammed down. The position was awkward. It hurt, no denying it, Sam’s fist in his hair causing pain in his neck and Sam’s iron grasp on his waist causing his hips to ache. But the angle on his prostate was perfect, hitting it dead center each stroke, adding intense pleasure to the mix. And he could tell, from the way Sam’s fist tightened its grasp on his hair, it was working for Sam too.
It was crystal clear that Sam needed to sexually own him tonight. And Dean had no objection to that.
Then, in a blink, Sam tossed Dean forward, up and off his lap, to land face down on the bed, while somehow keeping his dick buried inside. Dean yelped. Sam grabbed Dean’s hips to angle them slightly upwards and just started to pound him mercilessly. A stream of filth, “ohgodyouslutloveyourassfuckownthisass” poured out of Sam’s mouth. Dean felt Sam tense, knowing that Sam’s orgasm was imminent. But, instead of riding his orgasm to its completion buried inside Dean, Sam pulled out and ejaculated all over Dean’s ass. Then he reached down and spread come all over Dean’s hole, working some inside.
Sam slapped Dean’s ass and muttered, “Sit still slut.”
Dean inhaled shallowly, truly not knowing what to expect next, and didn’t move a muscle. Sam typically collapsed and cuddled after his orgasm but clearly that wasn’t on the menu for tonight. Dean’s cock ached; it had been hard for hours and he desperately wanted to reach down and end this himself. But he knew Sam had other ideas which didn’t include Dean getting himself off.
In two beats, three very slick fingers breeched Dean. “Not done with you baby.”
Sam thrust his fingers in deeply. “You’re mine tonight.” The combination of lube and come helped ease the burn but Sam’s three thick digits were merciless, scissoring and abusing Dean’s prostate. Dean felt tears roll down his cheeks. He tried to thrust into the bed to escape but Sam had him pinned.
Dean felt Sam’s thumb join his fingers. “You gonna fist me Sammy?” he asked low and guttural, surprised he could form words at all.
In reply, Sam added his last finger, curling his hand inwards. Dean cried out but managed to suppress the all-out sob rising up in his chest. Sam used his other arm to pin Dean completely. “Take it Dean.”
Dean once again lowered his head into its submissive posture. He felt the familiar tightening low in his belly and exhaled loudly. He didn’t know how Sam would react to his impending orgasm but he knew there was nothing he could do to stave it off. The pleasure and pain of Sam’s fist buried in his ass, completely owning him, had him teetering on the edge. Dean grabbed fistfuls of the sheet in desperation and held on tight as Sam slowed his hand to thrust in and out methodically. Dean screamed, shoving his face into the mattress in an attempt to muffle as much of the sound as possible.
“Your ass is spread so wide for me, fuck.” Sam muttered. Dean inhaled, his orgasm was seconds away, then he felt another intrusion. Sam’s hand was wrapped around his cock. Hand and cock penetrated Dean. Dean let out a loud, long yell. Then his orgasm slammed home, come soaking the sheets beneath him, as his scream altered its tone and grew in volume from the relief and bliss of his release. He felt Sam’s hand and cock continue to thrust in and out until Sam’s hot come filled his ass about thirty seconds later.
Sam extricated himself and collapsed on top of him.
“You fucking toppy bastard,” Dean somehow managed.
Sam wiped the sweat off his face. “You offered getting seriously busy. I just complied with your offer.” Then, two second later, “You have a great ass baby.”
Sam reached over and pulled Dean into him, wrapping his body protectively around him, kissed the back of his head and whispered into his ear, “Mine baby, every bit of you, in every way, always mine.”