dean is fingerfucking sam so hard its practically punishment and hes sobbing, writhing and begging dean to stop and his cunt is so so sore but he thinks he'll die if dean actually does stop. hes so strung up on pleasure that he can't see past the tears in his eyes and hear past the noises hes making, needy, fucked out moans spilling from his mouth, swollen with deans hunger. its too much but everytime he whines dean pulls his finger out and rubs his pussy raw and swollen before fucking into him even harder and sam comes so hard he sees stars, keeps coming because dean fucks him through it, keeps him high on his orgasm and sam loves it, loves how dean exhausts his body until he's fuck drunk and almost passed out on pleasure, its the only time his mind quiets.
he cries because of how overwhelming it is, how good it hurts, but also because of how much he loves it, loves dean and its so obvious, like a gaping wound that wont ever close, and he knows dean can tell. he takes pity for a moment before his mouth presses gentle against sams; not for too long because that isn’t how they do this. won’t ever be, sam thinks, but still he offers his body like repentance and dean takes him like absolution. this is his altar.
when dean starts licking his pussy out and probing his hole with his tongue sams eyes roll to the back of his head, he thinks he might pass out when dean teases his clit out of its hood, sucks like its his fucking job , all unforgiving suction and teeth, and he comes with a cry as his body slumps. dean smacks his pussy with a flat hand, hard, just to see sam spasm, cry out. slaps him again, harder, when he sees the tears in the corner of sammys eyes . he spanks the reddened flesh harshly, brutal smacks grazing his clit, his hole and sams, sams fucking arching into it, moaning and lifting his hips up like a fucking slut. whore. he seems more into it then half the girls dean has had like this and of course sam would take this better, take it so perfectly dean just wants to fuck right in and forget everyone else. dean centres his next slap right over his hole, wetness hot against his fingers making a sound so filthy it rivals his little brothers broken wail as his head falls back, a perfect curve that dean wants to bite into. so he does. bites proper and cruel, right against sammys jugular, teeth indenting and breaking tan skin, he doesn't stop his assault on sammys cunt though, pulls his brothers legs further apart and rains harsh blows all over, pussy lips to inner thighs and sams thrashing against him, tears spilling over, hands fisted in deans shirt, pulling and shoving like he doesn't know where he wants dean. he doesn't get a choice. dean sucks on sams throat like its his last meal, and fuck if it tastes as good, salt sweat and sam. dean could die with this on his tongue.
dean can feels sams pussy quivering against his hands. knows his little brothers close to the edge, he just needs a little push. dean moves his hand out from between sams legs, and the punched out whine he gets makes his dick throb and his mouth tick up. if sammy wants something hes going to ask for it. hes going to ask for it so dean can deny him and expel some of that energy that has twisted his insides from too long trapped inside the impala with sam.
dean gets his other hand free from sams princess hair, but not before giving it a final tug to the feedback of a tear and a choking little sob.
dean grabs sams hips, lifts him up, makes sure his abused cunt is right against the denim of his jeans, so no friction will ease the hurt burning there, long legs straddling and splayed across deans lap. sam doesn't care though, immediately tries to grind, and deans has to dig his fingers into sams waist, halt him. sams hands reach up to deans shoulders desperate, shaking,
"dean- de, what," confused, lower lip trembling, and dean isn't merciful but sam has always turned him inside out. dean for a moment brings his mouth to his brothers neck, soft, swiping kiss that has sam shuddering and dean almost wishes he could do this with tenderness, but this is already too fragile, they are skirting an edge here, and there is only violence in the space between them. dean thinks this is the only way he can stand closeness to sam and he hates himself for it. his mouth travels up, near the lobe of sams ear and sam whispers, still the only word that should ever pass his lips when hes like this - utterly lost and desperate.
"dean," he gasps, still trying to gyrate his hips. dean bites hard enough to sting and draw blood and he feels sam gush more wetness. sam likes it when it hurts, when deans the one cutting him up and holding the pieces together, dean knows its a special kind of fucked up, but he wants too much not to take it. takes the apology again and again, doesn't forgive it though. isnt sure he ever will.
"were you gonna get off to me beating your pussy, sammy? were you gonna come like a little slut?"
dean eases up, lets sam rock as his mouth falls open at deans words, face flushed and eyes downcast. maybe dean needs to beat the answer out of him, pain is a language they're becoming fluent in. he uses his hold to guide sams hips, grinds him down so hard his pussy must be feeling raw, and sam lets out a hurt hiss. dean doesn't need to urge him further, sam knows what he wants. red mouth still open, slack, dean watches; rapt as he tries to form words that aren't just gasps as the slit of his pussy is rubbed, aching flesh against soaked denim.
"yes dean," he finally manages. dean stills his thighs again, and sam lets out an outraged cry. used little thing.
"yes, you're a fucking slut sam? spreading your legs so wide for your fucking brother, only thing you're good for," dean slides a hand between his thigh and sams legs, hes so wet it coats his fingers, but dean doesn't do much more then press his hand firm.
"you my slut sammy?" and sam likes that, dean can tell, his forehead drops to deans shoulder and his teeth are hooked into his bottom lip to keep a whine spilling out. It dosen’t matter. dean can read sammys every microexpression, knows how hot it gets his little brother when dean acknowledges that sam still belongs to him.
"yours, yours, de, yours, please i need," whine, muffled into his shoulder before dean wraps his free hand tight around sams neck, holding not choking, yet. sams eyes are wide and his face is wet from desperation, dean wants to devour him. thinks he will. this is his due, after all.
"dont fucking tell me what you need," dean grits because he already knows, has always fucking known. dean has never let sam want for anything, this is no different. and sam understands that, whines and dean lets go of his throat content that it'll bruise up enough to remain a reminder. its a concession for sam to wrap his arms around deans neck press close and take whatever is given like a good little fucktoy, good little brother. hes breathing sams air, as he praises,
"such a good slut for me, arent you," gets a frantic nodding, words evading, sam fucked stupid and non verbal.
dean doesent give him a break though, cant let sams' needy noises cease for a moment, twists his hand and immediately shoves three fingers in, up to the knuckle, pressing into that spot that has sam clenching tight, gushing around deans fingers. cum is already coating his hand, jeans, sam spent pussy. dean cant believe how fast he came but he keeps sam there, fucking his fingers in and out, thumb rubbing lazily at his clit. sam mouthing and moaning into his neck, arms locked tight and as his fingers hook deep inside his little brother, he presses a little further, twists his wrist, gets them right up and scrapes them hard, a quick back and forth that has sam clenching up and trying to close his legs. sam’s hurting, so hot and wet and tight and dean will keep him close to the edge for a while.
when hes had enough of tormenting sam with his fingers, dean pushes him down, orders him to spread his legs even as his thighs spasm and dean can tell he wants to twist away, have dean clean him up, kiss his mouth maybe. dean doesn't. sams pussy is still so fucking mouth watering, all cherry red and glistening wet with cum, pussy lips swollen and clit engorged and dean needs to suffocate between his legs now. he dives down and licks up the taste of his brothers orgasm, pleasure dean rung out of him, tongue too heavy and dick aching between his legs. he'll fuck sam later though, when he really cant take it. dean slides his tongue and sucks at one of his swollen red lips, biting lightly and bringing blood to the surface and sams body arches up, and hes sobbing again. deans little crybaby brother. dean hasn't even gotten his clit into his mouth yet. all in good time. deans been practicing patience with sammy.
dean teases his tongue against that pink, wet slit and feels sams bruised thighs twitch, come down quick around his head. lifts his head to see sam eyes pressed tightly closed, tears spilling mouth open and bitten bloody. dean will taste that too later. sams nipples are hard, peaked and dean reaches a hand up his brothers muscled body and rubs, gentle, easing. he pinches and twists up just as his teeth bite at the oversensitive nerves of Sam's clit, bite and tugging in time with the pressure of his fingers on sams nipples. brutal enough to pull the words from sams throat.
"hurts dean," hoarse, resigned.
dean detaches his mouth, uses his fingers to soothe the tissue of his brothers cunt.
"i know," he says, soft, almost placating, almost.
deans fingers are still twisting sams nipples and his mouth is eager to get back to tasting, teasing, "but you'll hurt for me, wont you, little brother?" sam whines as deans teeth reattach themselves firmly because sam will. sam does.
his nipples are abused nubs and his pussy is dripping, thighs purple, slick and mauled. deans jaw is shiny from sammys cunt when he rubs his fingers through the sticky mess between his brothers legs and feels sam jerk as dean gets his fingers wet, covered. He moves forward, braces one hand against the sheets and uses his other to wipe his fingers on sams face, already damp from tears dean wishes hed tasted. tears dean deserves. dean likes the startled look on sams face as he rubs his cum over his brothers mouth, cheekbones - its filthy and sam hasn’t a single protest. and despite sam being so yielding, there is still something inside him that isn't satisfied. that isn’t surprising though, sams always made him feel voracious, dean could have him on his back for hours and it would feel like a scarce few minutes. there isn't a concept such as enough, not when he still can’t believe he has sam like this. that he has sam with him at all. this is a greed he can't sate.
dean draws back, throws sams legs over his shoulder, gets closer to the apex of his thighs and sam just whimpers, pliant like a doll. good. dean doesn't want him to speak.
its still not over, though, even after dean has rung another painful orgasm from him and it wont be for a while, whether he's conscious or not. sam can already feel his eyes growing heavy, body fever hot and exhausted, but he still wants dean to use him, to fuck him and mark him purple and own him, keep him. dean doesn't give up his possessions easy and sam wants dean over him like this for the rest of his life. doesn't matter if this is all dean wants from him, an easily accessible warm body, sam will take it over dean pushing him away, (no matter how he may deserve it) and walking towards someone else. sam will take his brand of cruelty and punishment over anything. take it over and over.
sams eyes drop and all he feels is bliss as deans dick slides between all that sensitive, hot red tissue, circling his cunt. he passes out just as dean fucks in, hips against sams.
only dean can give him this. sam wonders for how long he will.
sam wakes to a wet ache between his thighs and an empty bed. he thinks of a time where he might have woken up to deans arm thrown over his body less about possession and more about protection; deans hands gently cleaning him up, kissing all warm against his mouth. he thinks about how he lost that.
deans back when hes just finished up in the shower, clothes sticking to his damp body and hair still dripping, hes holding a bottle of beer but he throws a towel at sams head. it hits the floor and catches dust, sam wrinkles his nose.
“dude, shitty throw,” he says gesturing to the crumpled white towel. dean snorts, takes a long gulp and kicks the towel towards sam this time. sams definitely not using that now.
“more like a shitty catch” he mutters before shoving his clothes into his duffel.
they pack their bags and they dont talk about it. dean flirts with the receptionist as they leave and sam ignores the splintering in his chest as he watches dean pocket her number. its a feeling hes well acclimatised to, old hurt. dean looks over and he tries to keep his face neutral, but he knows to dean hes laid frighteningly bare.
“we won't be back,” he says after a moment, gruff and uncomfortable before heading straight for the impala. its not much. nothing like what hed dreamed of when he was young and hopeful and stupid stupid in love with his big brother. but sam knows he'll take what he can get.
he doesn't deserve much more.
—
“I have done penance for contemning Love,
Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,
Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes
And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow.”
-the two gentlemen of verona
