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Entry tags:
021. Open
OMG, I just randomly wrote fanfic. It's almost like old times.
021. Open
Title: Open
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: incest, pwp
Word Count: 295
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. I make no money and have no rights to the characters etc.
Prompt: open, adjective; allowing access, passage, or view through an empty space.
Dean already has three loads inside him when he comes back to the motel room. Not that it matters—Sam’s gonna fuck him again anyway. He opens the door, closes it, steps in. Stops dead.
Sam is still in bed, wicked splash of moonlight lighting up his face, making his dark eyes glow, exposing the long, hard line of his abs extending above the bed sheet. His cock is hidden, though.
Without saying a word Sam grips the corner of the sheet, and pulls it away. Dean’s breath catches as Sam’s hard cock flops into view. He can’t stop looking it, at the thick, pulsing veins like his brother hasn’t been fucking him all goddamn day, all tight and hard like he hasn’t come in a month.
Dean’s fingers are reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt before he’s even consciously aware of it. He kicks out of his shoes as he pulls the shirt over his head. Trembling hands yank open his fly and awkwardly push his jeans down.
He walks on shaky, new-born legs to the bed, supports one hand on the edge and swings his legs over so he’s straddling his brother. He reaches for Sam’s cock even as Sam’s own fingers quest between his legs. He knows what he’ll find, knows Dean is filthy and wet and open. Both men groan as the fingers sink in without a second of resistance.
Sam pulls his cock out of Dean’s grip and aims it at his hole. With a relieved sigh he sinks down on it.
“I love you, Dean,” Same breathes and his brother fucks himself up and down on his dick.
Dean’s breathing hitches, his face flames. He doesn’t respond. Sam sees the bashful duck of his head and doesn’t need him to.
021. Open
Title: Open
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: incest, pwp
Word Count: 295
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. I make no money and have no rights to the characters etc.
Prompt: open, adjective; allowing access, passage, or view through an empty space.
Dean already has three loads inside him when he comes back to the motel room. Not that it matters—Sam’s gonna fuck him again anyway. He opens the door, closes it, steps in. Stops dead.
Sam is still in bed, wicked splash of moonlight lighting up his face, making his dark eyes glow, exposing the long, hard line of his abs extending above the bed sheet. His cock is hidden, though.
Without saying a word Sam grips the corner of the sheet, and pulls it away. Dean’s breath catches as Sam’s hard cock flops into view. He can’t stop looking it, at the thick, pulsing veins like his brother hasn’t been fucking him all goddamn day, all tight and hard like he hasn’t come in a month.
Dean’s fingers are reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt before he’s even consciously aware of it. He kicks out of his shoes as he pulls the shirt over his head. Trembling hands yank open his fly and awkwardly push his jeans down.
He walks on shaky, new-born legs to the bed, supports one hand on the edge and swings his legs over so he’s straddling his brother. He reaches for Sam’s cock even as Sam’s own fingers quest between his legs. He knows what he’ll find, knows Dean is filthy and wet and open. Both men groan as the fingers sink in without a second of resistance.
Sam pulls his cock out of Dean’s grip and aims it at his hole. With a relieved sigh he sinks down on it.
“I love you, Dean,” Same breathes and his brother fucks himself up and down on his dick.
Dean’s breathing hitches, his face flames. He doesn’t respond. Sam sees the bashful duck of his head and doesn’t need him to.