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All Work and No Play
By: Lexalot
Summary: Makes Dean a dull boy.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Oh, if only I had anything legal binding them to me…
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Warnings: Incest!
Notes: Written for the Sam Slut-a-thon, Prompt #15: Toys
***
There was no use denying it. Dean was a breast man.
Sam wasn’t blind or stupid. He knew his brother. Legs and ass never really drew Dean’s attention. But if you put cleavage in Dean’s line of sight, he was as good as gone. The candidate for his next lay could have a kick-ass bod, but if she didn’t have tits that knocked him on his ass, he was only semi-interested in fucking her. His preferred letters of the rack scale alphabet were B and C, and they had to be real.
That figured. It was Sam’s luck.
Sam had never meant for anything to happen between them. He thought there was something wrong with him. But, he had felt this way long before Jess, and now that he had lost her, Dean was there and sticking by him so firmly when all Sam wanted to do was be left alone so that he didn’t have to deal with the feelings he had run away from three years ago. One day it had gotten so bad, he just lost all reason to impulse. He had made a move that there was no taking back, and Dean had accepted his affections. Albeit reluctantly.
He knew why Dean hadn’t rejected him right on the spot. He knew why Dean was so careful and took everything so slow in the beginning. He knew why Dean took his little brother into his bed when Dean had never even looked at another guy in his life. Dean couldn’t say no to Sam, see him tormented and wounded, or ignore the fact that Sam was the only person in the world Dean could ever be accused of needing. Above even their father.
Those weren’t great reasons for your brother to fuck you. But Sam would take Dean however he could get him. It was that bad.
Why should it be so bad though? Dean never seemed entirely turned off by sex being thrown into the mix of their relationship. And Sam always let Dean initiate any physical contact, and they slept in separate beds when Dean didn’t ask Sam if he wanted to sleep in his. Dean got hard every time, so it wasn’t like he was forcing himself to like it. And Dean loved him. That wasn’t even a question.
But Sam had doubts. Especially lately. Dean didn’t seem to want him as much. Dean’s eyes combed over all the pretty girls everywhere they went. Which made Sam quietly jealous and insecure, but he’d never tell Dean that. They didn’t really talk much about this new aspect of their brotherly relations. But Dean looking at those women wouldn’t have bothered Sam so much if Dean looked at him more.
All the attention Dean paid waitresses and barmaids was one thing. All the attention he hadn’t been paying Sam lately was another.
Wherever they went, Sam got to watch Dean bury his stare in some girl’s chest. Even though he wasn’t screwing around anymore, even though he was being completely faithful to Sam, Dean couldn’t hide his lust for the female form.
For three weeks, all they had done was run around on the hunt, job after job after job. They weren’t just burning out; the flame Sam had been trying to fan was burning low. They hadn’t had any real time or energy to do much. Dean had pulled Sam aside a couple times for quick blowjobs in an alley and at one of their hotels, but spending time on his knees to give Dean a quick fix wasn’t Sam’s ideal fantasy.
That was why three weeks ago, Sam had done something really stupid and spontaneous, like when he’d kissed Dean the first time. Only that was a huge taboo icebreaker and led past a certain point of no return. This time, it was far more innocent and yet more rebellious. Sam had been out getting a soda, and there was a place right across the street… Sam was embarrassed, but he didn’t let that stop him or make him want to undo what he had done that night. The only trouble was that he hadn’t had the chance yet to spring it on Dean.
This was their first night just passing through another town, crashing at another hotel until they could get back on their way to searching for the next life-threatening gig tomorrow.
Dean had gone out to pick up some snacks, and that had given Sam a lot of time to be alone with his thoughts.
A dangerous thing, being left with nothing to do but think. Especially when Sam was so lonely, aching for more, for something deeper to be born out of this shallow pool that he and his brother were wading through so timidly. Sitting there on the edge of the bed, lost in self-pity and uncertainty, Sam stared at the carpet. It was all he could do until Dean returned. And when Dean got back, he’d probably turn on the TV and get into bed without throwing him so much as a sympathy bone. Sam felt like a dog chained to his master when he would much rather have the wolf look at him like he was a lamb.
Sam had a surprise waiting though. And he just hoped this wasn’t the most foolish thing he’d ever done. And that he wouldn’t look like a complete fool when Dean saw Sam’s idea of a dangling carrot.
When Dean swept in from the cold winter night, he wandered over to his half of the room and put the shopping bags down on the table. There were two queen-sized beds worth of space between them, and Sam could only stand up and face Dean. This was the plan. This was the opportune moment, before Dean settled in and tuned him out.
“Hey, Dean?”
“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean heard him, but he wasn’t really noticing him.
“I’ve got kind of a surprise for you.” That got Dean’s eyes on him, but he seemed more wary than intrigued. “But I don’t know if you’re going to like it…”
“Okay…” Dean was more than hesitant, but Sam had his undivided attention. “What is it?”
Sam took a subtle breath, trying not to show how worried he was that this was not only a mistake, but that his brother would just laugh at him.
Swallowing any illusion of pride, Sam quickly lifted his t-shirt all the way up to his chest. A small, thin silver loop hung from his nipple. Light barely had time to shine off it, and Sam let his t-shirt fall back down to cover it again.
Dean was frozen for a second. He blinked. “I missed that. Can I see it again?”
More than a little self-conscious, Sam wasn’t sure what to make of that response. So he just lifted his gray t-shirt a second time.
The lure had been cast, and as Dean stepped up on the bed, cutting across the room by rushing over both beds, and jumping back down to stand in front of his brother, Sam realized that Dean was going for the bait full throttle.
Dean stared at the piercing. The polished steel passing through Sam’s pink nipple. “Is that for me?”
Seeing Dean start to salivate like a hungry predator, Sam couldn’t help but revel in the upper hand.
“Maybe.” Sam smiled coyly, feeling awfully satisfied with himself now.
“You said it was a surprise for me.” The want twisted in Dean’s tone and focused his gaze like an animal in heat.
“Yeah, it is. But it’s still healing.” Sam felt Dean’s hand sneak up over his ribs towards the little piece of jewelry. He soaked it up like Dean’s love was the sun itself, but he pushed his hand down away from its target. “It’ll probably be another month before it’s better.”
“A month?” Dean was incredulous. “You’re kidding, right?” He sounded like he would explode at the mere thought of having to wait that long.
Dean’s hand snaked its way back up to Sam’s chest. This time he caught the tiny ring enough to tug on it as Sam pulled his hand away.
The slight tug was enough to make Sam’s eyes heavy and his crotch bulge. Dean didn’t need to see Sam’s jeans swell to know the effect that faint bit of contact had on him. The pierced flesh was sensitive enough to be painful and pleasurable at the same time.
Sam felt Dean’s hand go for the silver loop again. “Stop.” He didn’t even half mean that; it was his suppressed mischievous side that wanted to talk.
Dean let his lips graze Sam’s, glancing down at the little circle of metal stuck in Sam’s skin. He ran his fingertips along the surface and traced the ring right to the soft hole it dangled from. “I want to play.”
Fighting the shudder that had him paralyzed for a minute, Sam pushed Dean’s hand away again and lowered his shirt. “Well, that’s different.” Sam flicked his tongue out, licking at Dean’s lips. “I’ve never seen you worked up like this before.” Sam felt Dean’s hand slip under his shirt again. “No.”
Dean pulled back enough to gape at him accusingly, genuinely thrown by his brother’s behavior. “I never knew you were such a cocktease.”
Sam stared down at him with that fire stoking inside. It wanted to rage and consume them both, because it was angry and had been starved for so long, and now it was taking the first deep breath since it had been lit. “I was beginning to think you were more vanilla than you’ve led me to believe.”
Sam might as well have called him a pussy.
Dean shoved Sam back onto the bed, climbing on top of him and planting himself between Sam’s legs before Sam’s head even hit the pillow. He whipped his shirt off over his head, and nearly ripped Sam’s shirt as he pulled it up high enough to reveal the pierced nipple again, and then he removed the cotton tee completely. Dean’s eyes zeroed in on that spot and didn’t budge. He watched the muscles in Sam’s chest tighten and strain as he flicked the loop with his thumb.
This was the perfect time to catch Dean off guard, because he could barely tear his concentration away from that precious square inch of skin for anything. Poltergeists could have attacked and Dean couldn’t have been ripped away from that focal point.
“I don’t know how you came up with this one, Sammy, but I have to tell you; this is a great fucking surprise.”
“Good. ‘Cause I’ve got another one for you.”
Before Dean could even rip his eyes away to see what the hell his brother was talking about, Sam flipped them so he was on top and pulled Dean’s arms up towards the headboard, and before Dean knew it, both his hands were cuffed around the iron bars.
“I said it’s still healing.” Sam took the dominant position with pride. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” This was a triumph in and of itself.
Handcuffs were Dean’s Kryptonite. He was powerless against them every single time. He was such an unwitting victim to them, just giving himself over to their chains before he was caught in them and only struggling after he was already trapped. Sam always noticed that. And he had developed a theory about why his brother allowed himself to be cuffed on some occasions when he really could have avoided it and then worried about escaping when it was too late. Dean had a secret reservoir of kinks that Sam was always trying to tap, and he was convinced handcuffs were among them. Another metal, shiny, silver loop that cuts into the skin. Dean always chafed, always had marks on his wrists after being cuffed or collared. Of course, who would ever notice? Except Sam.
And surprise, surprise, Dean was raging against the restraints now that they were on. “This isn’t fair.”
“You said it yourself; I’m a cocktease. Nothing I do is fair.” Sam’s wicked grin broadened to show an absurd amount of pearly white teeth while he undid Dean’s jeans and peeled his boxers away with them.
Sam slid off the bed, stripping of his own jeans and underwear, and then climbing back onto the bed to straddle his big brother. Dean made pathetic attempts at resisting, but he was pinned beneath Sam and the cuffs kept him from doing anything about it. His eyes traveled from Sam’s arrogant expression to the ring that hung from his nipple, taunting Dean. Worst of all was when Sam ground his ass against Dean’s sex, leaning down close enough for the silver to slide along Dean’s bare skin.
“You’re killing me.” Dean was nearly crying, his voice breaking, and his right wrist starting to bleed as he rallied uselessly to move his hand.
“Oh, hell no. I’ve been dying to see you this horny, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to just give up my advantage. I’ve got control now.” Sam lifted up off Dean’s hips, rising to his knees, and all the pressure was gone. Dean arched up, vainly fighting to get the heat back, but it was just out of his reach. “I like seeing you want me this much.”
That was an understatement, but it was enough to make Dean groan like Sam might never feed the hunger he had awoken in his older brother. “Sam, please!”
“Please what?” He hovered over Dean, caressing his lips and his jaw and his neck with his tongue, each lick followed by a kiss.
“I want to touch it.” Dean arched into his baby brother’s body again, this time grazing some of the cold metal, and it sent a shiver of sensation through his veins that made his cock jump against Sam’s balls.
Sam rubbed his whole body against Dean’s in response, unable to contain his own desire. “I want to take a ride.”
“If I’m not fucking you in ten seconds, I’m gonna spontaneously combust!”
He loved hearing Dean beg, and he loved seeing Dean writhe, but more than anything else, he loved that Dean wanted to touch him so badly that it broke through so many walls he kept up that even Sam couldn’t penetrate. Dean wanted to touch him, and as much fun as Sam was having, he’d die if he denied him any longer. He was starved for this kind of attention, and he wasn’t going to restrict it and keep it all tied up when Dean was ready to cut loose.
Faking an annoyed sigh, Sam conceded. “Okay, fine. You get your wish.” Sam reached into the open nightstand where he had kept the handcuffs and tossed the keys up by Dean’s hands. “You unlock yourself. I’ll just busy myself down here.” Sam sunk down the length of Dean’s toned physique and wrapped his mouth around Dean’s throbbing hard-on.
That wasn’t fair either. Sam knew it too.
Dean fumbled with the keys, almost dropping them as he felt the wet warmth of Sam’s tongue slink its way along the underside of the head. Every ounce of willpower Dean had was being poured into holding on, keeping his orgasm at bay, and getting the fucking cuffs off.
After the third try, Dean was finally able to find the hole for the key without feeling like he’d go blind from the distraction that was literally sucking away his resolve. One of the cuffs opened, and Sam doubled his efforts below the belt, and this time Dean did drop the keys. “Fuck!” And as he yelled out in frustration, Sam chuckled around a throatful of cock. Dean wrestled with his libido for whatever staying power he could manage. He reached behind the bed with his free arm, searching frantically, and when he found the little silver keys, he swiftly unlocked his other hand.
Tossing the handcuffs across the room, Dean knocked Sam onto his back and crawled on top of him again, reclaiming control.
Dean’s fingers went right for Sam’s hole, and his mouth went right for the piercing. Fingers burrowed inside Sam, rough and fast, and the only thing that felt better and ached worse than that was his nipple. Dean took the ring in his mouth, biting it and pulling on it hard, then pressing his tongue against it, lapping all around it, all over the pink area as it turned red. Dean bit down on the metal once more and tugged just to hear Sam cry out again.
That made Dean want to hear Sam cry out more, and his free hand found Sam’s other nipple and pinched and rubbed it, still working on the pierced nipple as his tongue played with the silver loop. He took it in his mouth and sucked and bit and licked. And just as he bit down gently on the nipple, he pushed his cock against Sam’s entrance and nudged his way inside.
Sam was practically screaming. It sounded so good. To Dean’s ears and his own. He’d never been so well-fucked in his life, never knew how good it could feel to be in so much agony and be taken, completed and completely owned, all at once. As Dean slid in to the hilt, tears spilled from Sam’s eyes. It was the pain. So raw and so sharp. The emotion too.
In a moment where all his better sense had been shattered by his rampaging senses, Sam’s cock ached and he couldn’t keep himself from noting Dean’s lack of interest in it. “Should I get my dick pierced so you’ll give it some attention?” Sam only realized how bad that sounded once the words were already weighing heavy in the air.
Dean relinquished Sam’s nipple, halting everything, and moving to meet Sam’s eyes. Sam knew he was giving off signals. Shame, doubt, bitterness. He didn’t mean for those to be the things there in the bed with them at this moment. This was too perfect to ruin. But Dean saw it, and all Sam could do was flinch and glance away.
“Have I been neglecting you?” The question was sincere. Dean even seemed concerned. Very concerned. Like it had never occurred to him that that’s what he had been doing. Or that that’s how Sam had been feeling.
Sam felt a little encouraged. Now was hardly the time he wanted to spend talking, but suddenly, it seemed like they actually could talk. That wasn’t something Dean offered him very often, and Dean never offered it before when it came to this. “A little.”
A sadness came over him as he brushed back Sam’s sweat-soaked hair. “I’m sorry.” Dean really meant it. He seemed to awaken more. Roused emotionally the way he had been sexually roused tonight. The stir might have been just what they needed. “I promise it’ll never happen again.”
He couldn’t help but kiss Dean for saying that, because he knew his brother kept his promises, and he accepted that Dean hadn’t been ignoring him or neglecting him on purpose. It was everything Sam needed to know and just what Dean needed to realize. Sam could taste the vow as Dean kissed him back. The round piece of metal was all but forgotten as Dean began to rock his hips again and his hands roamed the whole of Sam’s body, worshipping every part as much as the pierced one. Then, Dean let his hand wander down to Sam’s thick sex, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it and began to stroke vigorously.
Sam’s large frame began to quake, and Dean felt the tremors rock his dick to its breaking point. He jacked Sam harder with one hand and the other found the nipple ring and yanked on it one last time. Rivers of come flooded Sam’s abs and Dean shook as the whole mattress moved with his final thrusts. Dean’s face stilled when his eyes met Sam’s in the seconds that there was no heaven but this.
Then, he sunk into Sam’s arms, and when he slipped from between Sam’s legs, he rolled onto his back and pulled Sam up against him. Dean’s lips found Sam’s and tasted the sweat and the love there. Sam locked Dean in his embrace and squeezed, as if Dean might sound a retreat at any moment.
Dean fondled the shiny silver piece briefly, and then drew his little brother into another deep kiss. When the contact broke, he gazed into Sam’s eyes, staring at him like he was a gift, a dream come true. “You did this for me. What can I do for you?”
Sam smirked, and rubbed his hand across Dean’s chest, letting it settle right over his heart. “Get a tattoo that says ‘Sam’s Place’ right here.”
To this Dean simply smiled, as if he wasn’t going to say anything, but then, he pressed his lips to Sam’s forehead and replied, “It’s already there. You just can’t see it.”
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