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English
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Sinful Desire
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Published:
2011-02-20
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1,243
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1/1
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69

D for Desire

Summary:

The kiss they share is like having every answer to every question in the universe and more.

Notes:

Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on Sinful Desire collection profile.

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Author's notes: Shameless sex after the last previous parts of the Alphabets of Forbidden Love 'verse. I still think I went kinda softie there... so if you want some HC, please ask. :P Hope you enjoy, and remember, feedback (good, bad and creative) makes better writers.


Sam feels like his insides are on fire. His skin is tingling with anticipation, every nerve end on overload, every synapse inside his brain ready to explode. His breathing is hard and ragged, muscles trembling and strained, already where he wants his arms and legs to be, and where he knows Dean wants them to be. Sprawled on the bed, arms and legs spread, waiting, and Dean hasn't even tied him up yet.

 

Every time Dean ties him up, it's not the matter of control, not really. It's the way Sam shows that Dean could do him anything, anything at all, and he would love it.

 

Dean loves it too.

 

Dean sits on the chair at the end of the bed, just watching. The sight of his little brother like that, eyes tightly closed and his whole body screaming for Dean's touch makes something inside Dean curse and thank god at the same time. Sam is naked. Dean can't see his eyes, but he can see everything else; the fine sheen of sweat on Sam's golden skin, the hills and valleys of his strained muscles, the most beautiful shadows and highlights of the world in this dim room.

 

Dean gets up, and Sam hears it but keeps his eyes closed. Without saying a word Dean grabs the ropes he's had on the floor beside the chair, and walks to the head of the bed.

 

Sam's breath hitches. Dean has trouble of breathing at all. They both know what will happen next.

 

Dean closes his hand around Sam's wrist, gently, and Sam whimpers as Dean ties the rope around his wrist and the other end to the bedpost next to it. He takes his time walking to the other side of the bed and repeating the action with Sam's other wrist.

 

Sam's body is burning. His breathing becomes harder and faster, and Dean bites his lip as he feels the same fire taking over him.

 

Sam still doesn't open his eyes, but he doesn't have to. He knows. His hips are raising from the mattress even before Dean slides a pillow under his lower back to make his hips lift up. Dean swallows thickly, takes the ropes again and slides his hand all the way down Sam's body until he reaches his little brother's ankle.

 

Sam spreads his legs even more, and this time Dean has to close his eyes, his palm resting on Sam's ankle, on that perfect skin. It's too hot, inside and outside. Finally Dean takes a shallow breath and ties Sam's ankles firmly to the bedposts.

 

Dean is standing at the end of the bed again, his stomach feeling too tight, and he's fighting the urge to start panting like a dog, because with Sam, in situations like these, there's never enough air because all the desire that is filling the room simply leaves no space for anything else.

 

Dean gets undressed, watching the beautiful, shivering mess of his brother, and climbs to the bed, on top of Sam, on all fours, and bends down next to Sam's ear.

 

“Look at me, Sam.”

 

Sam finally opens his eyes; glassy, pupils dilated with lust, but everything about his mind and body is completely focused on Dean. Dean swallows again; that look in Sam's eyes almost too much to handle. He keeps looking at Sam for a moment longer before moving lower on his body, ignoring the obvious sign how turned on Sam is, and putting his palms on each of Sam's butt cheeks, caressing the skin and flesh for a while before spreading Sam and the scent and taste of Sam's most intimate place makes Dean feel drugged as his tongue starts its exploration, Sam's whimpers like the sweetest music to Dean's ears.

 

He knows what Sam likes. He knows what Sam needs; What they both need. So he keeps on doing what he's doing, pushing his tongue inside Sam until Sam's breaths are only one shallow gasp once in a while.

 

And he knows that Sam is ready. They both are.

 

One more final step. Dean climbs on top of Sam, all the way up until he's practically sitting on Sam's face. They share an eye contact, filled with need and lust and desire that borders on desperation, and then Dean's mouth opens wide as his throbbing member is inside Sam's perfect mouth, so wet, so hot. Too soon he has to pull out. It's not just the physical pleasure that will drive him over the edge too soon if he doesn't, it's the emotions that only Sam has ever been able to drag out of him, out to the open and more naked than he was the day he was born.

 

Sam is in a perfect position. He may seem like he's totally helpless, but Dean knows better. They both are. Doesn't matter who's tied up, they are both just as helpless whenever they do this.

 

Dean lowers himself down on Sam's body, kisses him, and Sam moans at the taste; of his brother, of himself. And then Dean settles between Sam's spread legs and Sam's eyes go wide and begging, mouth open and body trembling even harder than before. And when Dean thrusts inside Sam, his little brother's eyes close tightly again and he screams, but Dean knows it's not a scream of pain, it's a scream of relief. It's a scream that says 'finally', and Dean has to hold still for a moment just to ground himself, or at least even pretend that grounding himself would be possible because in situations like this, with Sam, when they reach this point there's no reality, no ground, nothing but him and Sam and this.

 

“Dean...” Sam breaths out and Dean braces himself up, wanting to see every emotion on Sam's eyes and face, every tiniest one of them, how his eyes turn from glassy to clear and glassy again, how every emotion is right there for him to see, and Sam's not hiding anything from him.

 

He starts moving inside Sam, slow at first, watching his little brother's face, but he's too far gone, too lost in Sam, and he buries his face on Sam's neck, panting, his hips moving faster and faster until he looks at Sam again, sees everything he's ever needed.

 

The kiss they share is like having every answer to every question in the universe and more, and when Sam screams again, Dean swallows the sound, devours it like the most precious gift in the world because it is, and Sam goes completely stiff before making this sound in his throat that is always Dean's undoing. Their bodies find the release at the same time, and it's not just physical, it's so much more.

 

Afterward as Dean has untied Sam and they're laying next to each other, so close, they still don't talk.

 

After moments like these, there simply ain't need for words because everything that needs to be said has already been said, not with words but with their skins, with their bodies, with their eyes.

 

And after moments like these, if even for a moment, the dark world they live in does seem like a better place.