Sequel to Fine Line They're not too worried about the wings. Well, probably not as worried as they should be. But it's almost Halloween, and it's not entirely unheard of for things like this to happen to people around Halloween time. Dean thinks it's probably a trickster spirit, and has gathered from his research that they'll likely go away in a few days. In the meantime, they're both taking advantage. Sam's flared wings cradle Dean almost gently as Dean fucks his brother up against the wall. Sam's face is pressed hard against the ugly wallpaper, and he's bitten clean through his lip as Dean strokes into him from behind and grips his wings hard. Oh, fuck, the fucking wing joints must be wired to his cock. He tries to move, to bring a hand up to wipe the blood off his mouth but Dean grabs it and covers it with his against the wall. His other hand digs into the wing joint, firm and unyielding, and Sam comes hard, his cock jerking and twitching as he covers the wall in front of him with hot bursts. Dean grunts in his ear and clenches up, and Sam groans as Dean licks the skin around Sam's wings and comes too. It's been five times today, and Sam's getting kinda tired. Also, his ass? Pretty fucking sore. Dean's not too comfortable either, judging by the way he's sitting down carefully and wincing a little as he walks. --- It's Halloween, and Sam's sick to fucking death of the motel room. They've been there for three days now, and Sam hasn't left the room once. Dean's got a damned good point in keeping him in there - the wings aren't exactly inconspicuous - but it's fucking Halloween. "Fine," Dean snaps. "Not my fault if some drunken dumbass tries to pull them off you." Sam rolls his eyes and passes Dean his devil's horns. Pretty appropriate, really. Sam has carefully cut holes in one of his older shirts to slide his wings through, and with a bit of expert taping, they look like he got them in a costume shop. Just as they're leaving, Dean reaches out to touch them again (can't resist, so fucking soft...) and Sam turns with a snarl. "Dude, not tonight. I don't wanna have to walk around with a stiffy." Dean grins innocently and puts his hand back in his pocket. --- In retrospect, choosing a club full of people was not the best idea. People keep fucking touching him, and every single time something brushes against the main joint, Sam's cock hardens even more in his pants. Drunken college girls slide their arms around him from behind and stroke the feathers, murmuring about how sinfully delicious he looks, and Sam can't help but press himself firmly back, smiling and laughing with them, accepting their offers to dance and allowing himself the pleasure of sliding his erection against their bodies. They giggle and squeeze his ass and grope his wings, and he's had more offers than he can count to take things elsewhere. Sam hasn't seen Dean for at least half an hour. Every so often he scans the crowd, but can't find his brother anywhere. Two girls corner Sam when he comes out of the bathroom, and they start touching his wings. He can't help it; his face collapses into a look of ecstacy, and he groans softly. Oh god, his dick's hard enough to drill through anything, and he's dying to get laid. He doesn't know how much longer he can put up with this near-constant arousal, and when a girl stands on her tiptoes and bites his ear while her thumb digs into the wing joint, Sam gives up. One of the girls whispers something to the other, and before Sam knows it, he's being dragged off somewhere quiet. He doesn't know where he is; doesn't care, because someone has their hand down his pants and there's someone stroking his wings, massaging the joints and all over and fuck, suddenly his pants have been shoved down to his knees and there's a girl kneeling in front of him about to suck his cock. "Go on," the other girl purrs from behind him. She's running her hands up his shirt, and Sam has a momentary fear that she'll discover that they're real, but then her hands slide around his front and she teases his nipples. He suddenly realizes that her shirt's undone, and he can feel her naked breasts pressed hard against his wings. It's almost too much, and he's breathing raggedly as he stares down at the girl sucking his dick - her mouth's so damned tight and hot and it's smaller than Dean's, but she's holding his hips still and won't let him fuck her. Sam groans and leans his arms on the wall in front of him, almost hyperventilating as soft, warm skin slides all over his wings and small hands pluck his nipples and a wet mouth kisses his neck. "Oh fuck," he groans. "You gonna come?" the girl behind him asks, her breath hot in his ear. She bites down on his earlobe, rubbing her breasts against his wings, and Sam bites through his lip again. He tastes blood as he nods frantically, and he can almost feel the girl smile. "Good," she whispers. "I wanna see you come. Wanna see you paint her mouth with your come, and then I'm gonna suck you hard again." Jesus fucking Christ. Sam gasps for air, his bangs sweaty on his forehead, his wings twitching and trying desperately to flare as the girl on her knees swallows hard, and Sam feels his cock stroke the back of her throat. One hand slides down to cup his balls gently, and ... "What the FUCK?" There's a squawk, and suddenly the mouth on Sam's dick is gone, goddamn the air is so fucking cold on his heated skin, oh Jesus fucking Christ someone is gonna die for this. The two girls vanish as quickly as they appeared, and Sam turns around to see Dean standing behind him with his arms crossed and looking more pissed off than Sam has ever seen him. Before Sam can say a word, Dean grabs him by a wing, and Sam's frantically trying to do up his pants as his brother drags him out the back door into the alleyway behind the club. Holy fuck, Sam's pretty sure it shouldn't feel this damned good to be dragged around by wings - he has a brief thought that Dean could dislocate his shoulder - and then he's being pressed up against the wall. It's rough and brick and damp and Sam's pretty sure some guy's taken a piss not far from here, but then Dean's breath is in his ear and he forgets everything. "Were you gonna fuck those girls?" he whispers harshly. Sam's hands scrabble uselessly at the wall in front of him, trying to turn around to face Dean, but Dean's got one arm across Sam's wings, pretty much reducing him to jelly. He's still so fucking hard in his pants; his cock's leaking everywhere, making a mess of his boxers, and Dean's touch is just making it so much worse. "Bet they liked your pretty wings," Dean continues, one hand sliding down to undo Sam's pants again. They fall to the ground with barely a touch, and Dean's hand wraps loosely around Sam's dick. He bites back a moan, wanting more; wanting Dean to punish him for what he was going to do. "You mean I can't go out and get laid like you do?" he pants against the wall, his hips jerking convulsively as Dean lightly, teasingly strokes his cock. There's a sharp intake of breath from behind him, and then Dean bites down on his wing joint. Sam howls, bucks his hips, and comes immediately. It's easily the most intense orgasm he's ever had; it seems to go on forever, and by the time he's done gasping and spurting, there's an awed silence behind him. "Whoa," Dean murmurs. "I... fuck," Sam says softly. "Sorry. And, man, I was so fucking horny and I couldn't find you and those girls kept touching my wings and I really really needed to get laid and you weren't there and I..." "I'm here now," Dean says reasonably, and Sam chuckles lightly. "Besides, I can still fuck you." Sam groans and leans his head back. "Whatever, man," he says. "I'll just stand here and moan in the appropriate places." "Oh, you are gonna pay," Dean growls. He forces Sam's legs apart, and Sam braces himself against the wall as Dean presses two spit-slick fingers into him. The amount of sex they've had the past three days, Sam doesn't need much in the way of stretching, but he's still relieved when he hears Dean tear open a condom and a packet of lube. He realizes all of a sudden that Dean's not touching his wings, not even brushing against them, and he grunts quietly. "Dude. The wings. You wanna..." Dean chuckles quietly. "You're not getting off that easy, Sammy," he says, sliding the condom on and slicking himself up. He leans back slightly and presses Sam's ass apart, gritting his teeth as he pushes himself into the tight heat. He's not expecting Sam to lean back, flare his wings all the way out like he's gonna fucking take off, and deck Dean firmly on the back of the head with the tip of a wing. "Ow!" Sam laughs, and flares his wings again, running the tips lightly up Dean's sides, lifting his shirt and stroking the skin underneath. It's like an electric shock; Dean feels his eyes glaze over and he lets out an embarrassingly needy sound as he wraps his arms firmly around Sam's body and starts driving into him, hard. The wings have torn their way out of Sam's shirt completely, and it's hanging in tatters from his back, exposing smooth, hot skin and muscle. Dean buries his face in the feathers in front of him, inhaling their soft aroma, licking the smooth skin of Sam's back, and he can hear Sam coming apart. "Are you... are you gonna come again?" he pants softly, recognizing the quiet whimpers Sam's making. His brother's bracing his head on his arms, his hips moving in tandem with Dean's, and when Sam nods and clenches around Dean's cock, it's almost too much. The wings, and the fact that he's fucking his brother in an alleyway where anyone could come out and see them, and how Sam's gonna come again, and the wall in front of them is gonna be dripping with Sam's spunk, and Dean bites Sam's wing again and comes with a muffled grunt. It's like magic, once again; the very act of sinking his teeth lightly into the wing joint has Sam tightening and jerking and coming again with a strangled cry, without having once touched his dick. They can hear muffled voices not far away from the people queuing to get into the club. There's laughter and swearing and the occasional sound of breaking glass, but the only thing Sam can think about is how Dean's breath in his ear sounds like a fucking hurricane, and he doesn't want it to stop. Eventually, Dean stirs and unpeels himself from Sam's sweaty back. "You wanna go back to the motel?" he says quietly, and Sam nods. They try to fix their clothes, but eventually give up, and walk back to their motel in silence. --- When the wings are gone the next morning, Sam can't help but feel disappointed. He glances at Dean, whose face is shuttered, and he suddenly thinks that everything's just gonna go back to the way it was before. Dean cocks an eyebrow at Sam and looks pointedly at his back, and Sam sighs. "Yeah." "So." Dean picks up his towel and heads towards the bathroom, and Sam just sits up in bed and tries not to feel miserable. A minute later, Dean's opening the bathroom door again and poking his head out. "You coming with me, or what?" Sam grins and is out of bed within seconds. |
