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Witch's Dance

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Summary: It's either coincidence, or irony, but Sam and Dean find themselves hunting for a witch at The Witch's Dance, a party being given at the local haunted mansion on Halloween. What they find is not the kind of dance they expected. Slash. Incest.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories(Past Donor)CasFR18217,730011,2509 Nov 109 Nov 10Yes

Chapter One

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(Title: Witch's Dance
Co-written with BrimstoneGold
Pairing: Sam/DeanRatings/Warnings: PWP, attraction/love spell, NC-17, incest
Disclaimer: The characters are not ours, they were created by Kripke. We are just playing with them

Sam did not want to be here. He so did not want to be here. He hated Halloween and Halloween parties and stupid costumes of things that were real that people made jokes out of. The last Halloween party he had gone to was with Jessica, years ago. Now, there was a witch in the area and he found that just too ironic. Hunting a witch on Halloween.

Dean had wrangled tickets to "The Witch's Dance," a 'by invitation only' party at the 'haunted' mansion. There was no way to know if the witch was going to be there, but at a party, especially a Halloween party, the liquor and the season would let them ask questions of the locals they couldn't otherwise. It was still unclear whether the witch was a black magic, give-her-soul-to-a-demon type, or simply someone with a grudge who was in the know about spells. There had been a couple murders and some hex bags had been found at the scene, so odds were good it was the give-her-soul-to-a-demon sort of witch.

They arrived at the party wearing suits with obviously fake badges sticking out of their pockets and labels that declaring them to be female costume quality inspectors. Dean's idea of course. The walkway to the large door was lined with exquisitely carved pumpkins of ghost ships and headless horsemen, black cats and witches, and so many other Halloween icons. Fake spider webs were draped over every bush, exposed walls and window. Flickering fake black candles or animated glowing sheet covered ghosts illuminated many of the windows along with skulls, rats and bats. Inside, the decorations were just as elaborate. There were herb clusters and pumpkins and gourds, fake spiders and bloody body parts nailed to the walls. There was even a live black cat with amber eyes sitting on the table watching the door. The brothers were greeted at the door by an Elvira look-a-like and Dean handed over their invites to her. The woman pointed to the large heavy iron cauldron with symbols drawn on it.

"Pick out a magic pouch. Everyone has to wear one," 'Elvira' said. "These are spell bags for health, or love, wealth, magic wishes, luck, fame, all sorts of things. No opening the bags until after midnight or you'll be asked to leave," she added with a final warning. "But opening the bag at all will break the spell."

The brothers passed looks between them. The pouches were all made of suede and of bright colors, there wasn't a typical black or brown hex bag in the bunch. Dean finally reached in and pulled out a red pouch. Its cord was entangled with another which he handed to Sam. Sam gave 'Elvira' a tight smile and put on the blue pouch. The cat yawned and watched as they passed from the decorated hall into one of the rooms filled with party attendees and more elaborate decorations.

Sam fingered the pouch and looked at Dean. "So now what?"

"First? You stop looking like you've got a stick up your ass and don't want to be here. Seriously, didn't they have any parties in Stanford?" Dean rolled his eyes. "And look a little enthusiastic about your costume. I mean Elvira there, you could'a offered to examine her costume."

"You know how much I hate Halloween," Sam muttered. "Yeah there were parties and I tried to avoid them. I'm going to hunt up a beer," Sam said, trying to get a smile to come to his face and pretend like he was enjoying himself.

"Don't you mean scare up a beer," Dean shot back. "Just pretend it's not Halloween, how hard is that?" He followed his brother to the bar and had to admit the decorations were really something. Cauldrons were set up along the length of the bar and dry ice was used to produce a swirling fog that rose from them. There were some neon lights made to look more eerie by the fact that only parts of the signage were visible due to all the fog.

The bartender was dressed like a bartender from the old west, blood on his white shirt in three places as if he had been shot. He looked at the two young men then grabbed some bottles and poured different liquors and set the concoctions in front of the two. The glasses were layered in green, black and red, a couple round somethings in them, and the glasses were iced so the ice evaporated into steamy curls while the drinks bubbled and fizzed a bit.

"G'on, try 'em," the bartender drawled.

Sam looked at the drink with distaste. "I just want a beer."

"Not until you try it," the bartender said firmly.

With a long suffering sigh, Sam took a sip and his eyes widened. "Holy shit." He took another sip and grinned at the bartender. "What the hell?"

"Transylvanian Bloodslide," the bartender said with a wink. "No relation to a mudslide," he added. "When you come back, ask for my Hungarian Ghoulish or my Spider web Flyer."

"I think I'm going to want another of these," Sam said.

"Nope, not until you try my other specialties. The hellhound howlers are good and the demonic drools, but after three or four drools, you will be drooling, so you gotta hand over your keys if you want the demon drinks. We don't want any real ghosts coming out of this party. Miranda, Lady of Night, would not approve."

"Miranda, Lady of the Night, huh?" Dean said. While the bartender was distracted forcing drinks on Sam, Dean had grabbed a beer from over the edge of the bar and was happily sipping on it as he looked around. "She the one who's giving this party?" He didn't say anything to Sam but pushed the second 'bloodslide' toward his brother.

The bartender gave Dean a glare. "Try the drink and I'll answer your questions," the man said, crossing his arms across his chest, clearly annoyed that Dean had reached across his bar for a beer.

Sam looked at Dean, still grinning. "Dude, seriously. Try it."

"A bloodslide? Really?" His gaze went from his brother's, to the idiot bartender's, and back. He pulled the drink closer, if only to avoid Sam accusing him of being the wet blanket, 'cause he just had a feeling that's where his bro was about to go with it. Making a face, he knocked the drink back, and then gave a surprised, "Whoa..." Not only did it pack a punch, but it tasted damned good. "I think my tongue is tingling. I'll have another."
The bartender's stance never changed.

"Dude... I just found someone with a bigger stick..." Dean said, slapping Sam hard on the back. "So, who's giving the party?"

The bartender laughed. "You're not supposed to slam a bloodslide. Did you swallow the cherries whole?" He mixed up a different drink. This was red and brown and frothy on top and in a beer mug. "The Ghoulish. Better than that beer you're drinking," the man promised. "Yeah, Miranda's your hostess. He pointed up and across the room to a loft where a lady sitting in what looked like a throne, fog machines keeping mist at her feet. Her hair was long, wavy and black and she was in a very elaborate black and dark red dress. Purple light behind her added to the eeriness.

"Miranda... okay," Dean said evaluating her. She looked good in a completely movie make up from like the 30's kind of way. "Older woman, Sammy, that's your forte," he said, elbowing his brother. "Go talk to her."

Sam gave Dean a glare then returned his gaze to the bartender. "Is it okay if we thank her for the party?"

"Yeah, sure. Oh, wait." He quickly poured a glass of red wine. "Here, I think she's out of wine."

"You coming?" Sam said, his tone clearly telling Dean the answer better be 'yes.'

Dean gave a resigned look and walked with him. "I thought it would be smarter if I stayed behind, just in case she is the witch and decides to turn whoever is questioning her inside out." As they headed toward her, the lights flickered. That wasn't usually indicative of witchcraft type activities but it instantly put Dean on alert.

A soft throaty voice came over speakers. "The games begin in five minutes. Every room has a different game, but before we get to those games, we're all playing 'musical chairs'. There are four rooms and there will be only ten players to a room. Since there are more than forty people, it means if you don't get a place in a game, you'll just have to go trick or treating with the rest of the world."

"You think that's for real? People will be thrown out?" Dean asked, watching as people scurried to various rooms and shouted "Safe!"

"You wanna risk it?" Sam said. He and Dean quickly headed to the closest room, but the door was already shutting. "Crap!" They raced to the room across the way and both made it in. One more person made it in before the door was shut. They heard the disappointed cries of the rest of the party goers who were shut out of the room.

"Definitely a different kind of party," Dean said, looking around. He frowned at the closed door, sure it should be making him nervous and not sure why it wasn't. "Sam, don't drink anymore," he said, taking the two drinks out of Sam's hands and setting them down on a table. He didn't feel drunk, but it was as if something had really taken the edge off, like he couldn't make himself worry. Even knowing this, he couldn't get himself worked up over it.

"I haven't played this since high school," a girl giggled as she sat down on a cushion. Pushing her long blond hair out of her face, she tilted her head back. "It would have been awkward if you two hadn't made it in and the girls outnumbered the guys."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?" Dean asked, seeing her pat the spot next to her on the floor where big velvety cushions had been placed for the players' comfort. Nodding at Sam to take the place across from him so they'd have the room covered, he sat down next to her. "So what Halloween game we playing? Bobbing for apples? Or passing apples with our mouths, even better," he laughed, giving her a look.

A beautiful young woman stepped out from the shadows. "Welcome everyone. I see we have a few new attendees. First we need to ensure compatibility or you'll be traded to a different game." She handed out differently shaped crystals of different colors. "Look at your crystal, remember its color." Then she gathered them all in a bowl and mixed them with her fingers. "Amethyst. Whose is this?"

A girl raised her hand. "I'm sorry, you're not compatible with the group. Please step out and you'll be placed in a different room. Give your crystal to the gentleman outside the door."

The girl sighed and got to her feet, taking her crystal with her. She hadn't much more than stepped out when a different girl stepped in. She was waved to the empty seat and handed over the amethyst crystal the first girl had left with. The woman mixed it with the others then smiled. "Yes. All compatible."

"What do you mean, compatible?" Sam asked.

"That there will be no mismatches. She was not a good match with any of you, that's all. Now let the game begin." The woman set a glass bottle down in the center and extracted a crystal from the bowl. "Quartz, clear?" she asked.

The young man next to Dean spoke up. "That's mine."

"Then you get to start the game. Spin the bottle."

"Spin the..." Dean's gaze flew to Sam first, then to every player. At least he didn't find any of the women objectionable and a couple were pretty damned hot. He could play this game but questions brewed in his mind. It was almost like everyone at the party was being compelled to play, and that wasn't cool. Then again, no one seemed to be here against their will. And she'd said there were new faces, which meant maybe the others had known what they were in for. What he really would like is to see someone say they didn't want to play, see what would happen. But if he did that himself and there was no coercion, he was afraid he'd just be escorted off premises. Looking at Sam, he gave a shrug.

Sam watched the bottle spin and land on the girl next to him. The young man leaned out, as did the woman, and they kissed almost chastely. The spin went to the girl and the bottle landed on Dean. The woman who was overseeing the game cautioned Dean. "First kiss is lips only."

"Wasn't planning on missing," Dean answered, zeroing in on the girl's mouth as he crawled forward toward her and she did the same.
"I mean no tongue," the woman added, without the least bit of amusement.

As Dean moved his mouth over the brunette's, he slid his fingers through her hair and tested the seam of her mouth. Guess she wasn't a rebel. Slowly, he backed away and gave her a wink. "This isn't like high school spin the bottle at all, not that you would know, having had your nose in a book the entire three years," Dean told Sam, looking across at him.

"I know that, Dean. How do you think I met Jessica?" Sam answered. "Now spin the bottle."

"I dunno, I thought maybe she kidnapped you and forced you into having fun." Grinning, he spun the bottle, though his eyes were on the blonde next to him. Here was hoping.

When he looked down, he saw the bottle was pointing toward Sam and made a face even as he stretched his arm to spin again.

"A spin is a spin," the woman said. "Gender is irrelevant."

"He's my brother!" Dean and Sam said in unison.

The woman seemed a little taken aback. "Wait a moment, please," she said, then murmured something softly. She paused, her hand at the earpiece she had in, then murmured again, paused, and then whispered a final time. She finally spoke. "The bottle has chosen. A kiss is required."

"Chosen, my ass. I wouldn't kiss him if he were the last man on earth. Come on, this isn't how the game is played."

"Are you refusing?" the woman asked.

"Hell yeah."

"And you?" the woman asked Sam. At his nod, she shrugged. "Well, you each have a right to three 'passes' but have to drink a shot in lieu of the kiss." Immediately, a cocktail waitress in a Playboy bunny outfit was let into the room and gave each of them a shot glass with a blue drink.

"This will definitely go down better than you," Dean said, pointing at his brother. He sniffed, then took a small sip, then downed the shot. "Ahh... not as good as the bloodslide, but damned good." Man, they didn't water down the drinks around here, he thought as he spun again, with much better results and got to kiss the same brunette sitting next to Sam.

"The second kiss with the same player is expected to be a thorough kiss," the woman said.

When Dean crawled up to the brunette, his hand accidentally went over Sam's. An odd sensation ran up his arm, stealing his concentration so he almost forgot this could be a real kiss. Pushing forward a little more, he kissed her right, his tongue delving between her lips before he started to withdraw.

Only he didn't withdraw. Her hand moved to his cheek, encouraging him and who was he to resist? Sliding his tongue back into her mouth, he cupped the back of her head and held her in place as he explored every inch of the inside of her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers and answering her soft moan with his own. It was like the world faded away, like the only thing that mattered was the kiss and how it made him feel, like he wanted more, like he would do anything to make it last. A tap on his shoulder brought him back to himself and had him ending the kiss. "I'll see you after the game," he promised her before moving back to his place and waving the cocktail waitress over to get a beer.

The brunette smiled at Dean and spun the bottle, her eyes going to Dean's. The bottle landed on a mousy brown haired girl with big doe eyes and a petite frame. The brunette leaned forward and the doe eyed girl did too and they kissed lightly, the petite girl's face flushing a little. She spun the bottle and got Sam. Sam smiled at her and they kissed. He licked his lips after the kiss. The girl tasted of cinnamon and smelled of honeysuckle and for the briefest of moments he wanted to kiss her much longer and more deeply. Sam spun the bottle and once again it came to rest on Dean.

Eyeing Dean, a flash of curiosity crossed him mind, wondering if Dean's lips were as soft as the girl's he just kissed. He licked his lips again, meeting Dean's eyes. They were brothers! lots of cultures men kissed who were merely friends, nothing sexual at all in it. "Can I kiss him on the cheek?" Sam asked.

The woman shook her head. "Lip to lip."

Sighing he shook his head. "Refuse," he said and accepted the blue drink. Shit. They were both down two strikes because of course Dean refused as well. He spun the bottle and it ended up on a blond guy. Hesitating, he decided he better not burn his last refusal. He leaned forward and so did the other guy. They pressed lips and Sam was surprised that it didn't bother him as much as he expected it to. It was actually kind of...nice.

Dean had expected Sam to refuse but watching his brother's mouth move over another man's, he was surprised to find it didn't bother him. It was a game, right? His eyes sought out Sam's, and he saw no disgust in them as his brother went back to sit in his place and just gave him a shrug.

A few spins later, it was Dean's turn again and the damned bottle stopped on Sam. By now, they'd both caught on to the fact that the first time meant a chaste kiss, the second tongue, the third involved groping and then the 'couple' got to leave the room. Maybe that should be the plan, get Sam three times and they'd both get the freedom to go do some snooping. They'd pretended to be a lot of things, it shouldn't be hard to act as if they were 'in lust'. All he had to do was pretend Sam wasn't his brother. And that he was a girl. Easy.

Just to get on Sam's nerves, he crooked his finger at him, then moved toward him. When they were so close he could feel Sam's warmth breath on his face, he stopped. Yeah, he really was gonna do this. Once he made up his mind, he went for it, slanting his mouth over his brother's and moving it back and forth in a slow kiss. Sam's lips felt firm and soft and warm. Forgetting himself, he crushed their mouths together just a little harder and drew away at the sound of coughing. He was a little troubled by not being grossed out and even more so by the fact that he could have gotten lose in that kiss.

Sam couldn't believe Dean said yes this time. Well, better to refuse next time, right? He gave Dean something of an annoyed look when Dean had given him that come-hither crap, but yet...well, he had been wondering what Dean's lips would feel like...and hoped Dean had a plan. Then leaned forward and suddenly he was kissing Dean...and liking it. When Dean intensified the kiss it was like he couldn't stop himself and started to open his mouth for his brother's tongue when the cough broke the spell.

Sitting back a little wide-eyed, Sam spun the bottle. A girl he hadn't kissed yet. Okay. Good. He kissed her but all he could still taste and recall was Dean and the way Dean's lips felt.

More spins passed and both Dean and Sam had to kiss the other guys at least once it seemed. It was as if the bottle was making sure everyone got to sample everyone else's lips. One couple had already left, and with the next spin, two girls ended up leaving together. Sam looked at Dean. Two girls and four guys left. Those were not good odds. One of the girls had spun the bottle before they left and it landed on the blond guy who spun and got Sam. Real kiss. Well, better to save the refusal just in case they ended up on a third spin, right? But the guy refused and Sam didn't. So the guy got the blue drink and spun again.

Sonova... It landed on Dean. Like his brother, Dean refused to pass. The blond had used up all of his passes and looked undecided. "There's no shame in quitting," Dean tossed out.

'Course his words had the opposite effect and he found himself kissing the guy. When he pulled back and spun, he hoped against hope for one of the girls, or for Sam. Then, when the bottle actually landed on Sam, he had a complete change of mind, or maybe a heart attack. "Ninety percent girl," he muttered under his breath a few times as he inched across the floor, crawling toward his brother.

"I heard that," Sam said as he leaned forward too. He was going to prove to his brother he was not ninety percent girl, dammit. As soon as they started to kiss, Sam pushed his tongue into his brother's mouth and began a very determined war with Dean's tongue. His hand went to the back of Dean's head and his fingers wrapped in Dean's hair. When was the last time he had touched his brother's hair? It was softer and silkier than he expected and that only seemed to inflame him.

The hell? Tongue in, tongue out, that was the plan. Instead, Dean suddenly found himself in the middle of a wet, hot, mind numbing kiss. Needing, wanting more, he put his own hand behind Sam's head and welded their mouths together, giving as good as he got. Thoughts of pushing Sam down, of moving on top of him, and of ripping his shirt off encroached on his other insane thoughts, such as how good Sam tasted, how stubborn he was even in this, and how much he needed another 'big brothers always win' lesson. A needy moan broke from him just as a sharp voice called out 'enough.' As he sat back dazed, Dean could swear he still felt the imprint of Sam's lips against his own.

Sam was reluctant to let Dean go and that was just all sorts of messed up...right? Then how come he wanted to lean across and grab Dean by the shirt and pull him back into a kiss? His eyes locked with Dean's as he spun the bottle again. The blonde woman beside Dean. He should be relieved, but instead he bit back a sound of annoyance. The intense kiss he shared with the woman brought him back a little to his senses. If he got Dean again that would mean they were a 'couple' and, hell no, he wasn't going to have sex with his brother. But damn, he did want another kiss...

Dean stared at the bottle, refusing to watch Sam kiss the girl and refusing to look into his eyes after. He was too busy trying to work out his own feelings. The drinks were strong, there was that, but what the hell? How could he have enjoyed that kiss so much? How could he be wishing for a third kiss to see if kiss number two... if what he'd felt would be repeated? That was just fucking nuts. He should want that to happen only so he could get the kiss over with quickly and he and Sam could walk out and search the place.
Brooding, he barely realized that it had been Sam's turn again, and that the bottle was pointing at himself. His heart leapt to his throat and his mind got a little fuzzy. His eyes met Sam's and saw a fire there that... holy fuck.... He licked his lips.

Sam watched Dean's tongue slip out of his mouth caressing his lips and he groaned softly. He wanted that kiss, that tongue in his mouth one more time. Then they could leave, get out of here, before something happened that shouldn't happen between brothers. He looked at Dean. Two girls. Four guys. Two guys were going to end up leaving at some point and the thought of Dean with any guy.... He leaned forward, his gaze locked with Dean's.

"Kiss me, Dean," he said simply, but the need in his voice was velvet fire.

Movie kiss. Like hell it was... From the moment Dean's fingers carded through Sam's hair and he drew Sam toward him, all thoughts of pretense was incinerated from his mind. His tongue eagerly penetrated Sam's mouth, a soft murmur of approval leaving him as his brother sucked on it. A flare of heat shot through Dean and just, like that, he took control of the kiss, giving his brother what he wanted. His tongue mapped the contours of Sam's mouth with deliberate, efficient strokes, demanding his brother's response. It was no different than when they were in the field, Sam knew exactly what he wanted, and he knew exactly where Sam's mouth and tongue would move to. There was no awkwardness, no pauses, no breaks except to gasp in some air.
Dean moved suddenly, closing his other arm around Sam and drawing him close as he lifted up onto his knees and brought his hand down to Sam's ass, molding Sam against him. Holy fuck... his brother felt smoking hot, made him burn up like he was in fever. Shoving one thigh between Sam's, he ground his hips closer, getting some pressure on his now aching cock. It wasn't enough, not by a longshot. He wanted, needed more. Needed it now.

"Come, you will be taken to somewhere you can have privacy," the woman said and guided the two men to their feet with more strength that either of the brothers expected. She forced them to stop kissing, with a hand on either chest, pushing them apart. She braved their fury nonchalantly, giving each a challenging glare that suggested it would be wise for them to listen to her. "You will be taken to a room. You will not be interrupted until midnight. At that point you may stay the night if you wish, or leave." Guiding them to the door, she opened it and a man met them, the black cat sitting beside him. He took them down a hall to a flight of stairs which he began to climb. The cat raced up ahead of them and sat on the landing, flicking its tail then took the lead until the man stopped after passing a handful of doors. The cat meowed and wound itself in between his legs. The man unlocked the door and handed Dean the key.

"There is a red velvet rope. Pull it if you have need of anything. Food, Drink, anything, and it will be brought to you."

Irritated by the interruption and needing only one thing, Dean grabbed the key, then his brother's jacket, and tugged him into the room, shoving him back not very gently to close the door. He stared up into Sam's eyes which were still dark with desire, then his lips... swollen and tempting. "You ah... you gonna be able to handle this tomorrow?" he forced himself to ask, just barely preventing himself from mauling Sam again.

The whole time they were walking, being led to the room, Dean had held Sam around the waist possessively. Sam's own arm was over Dean's shoulder and it was all Sam could do not to say fuck it and start kissing Dean again, privacy be damned. But now, now they were in a room. The fact that Dean even had enough blood going to his brain to think about tomorrow surprised Sam, but it shouldn't. Sam's welfare always came first, no matter what. Well, tonight it was gonna be Dean's. Anything Dean wanted, Sam was going to give him.

Instead of answering, he pushed off from the door and wrapped his arms around Dean, all but welding their lips together and opening his mouth in invitation. He had always loved Dean more than anyone, he just never expected it to manifest this. He had never had any desire to kiss Dean or to touch him in any fashion remotely intimate except maybe when they gave each other massages from sore and knotted muscles after a hunt. Even that had been almost clinical. This...this was a whole new level of brotherly love and come tomorrow...he had no idea how he'd feel.

For once, Sam didn't seem to want to talk about it and Dean was damned grateful. Wrapping his arms tightly around his brother, he claimed Sam as surely as Sam claimed Dean's kiss. His mouth moved over Sam's in a rough, desperate kiss, his tongue plundering Sam's mouth like he owned it, owned Sam. A tidal wave of emotions and needs crashed into him. It was too much, too sudden and he wasn't sure what to do with it when it came to his brother.

That didn't stop Dean from shoving his hands under Sam's shirt, from exploring his back and sides, from groaning with need and stumbling half blindly as he pushed Sam toward the bed but somehow ended up wheeling him around and slamming his back up against a wardrobe.

"Fuck..." he gave a pained groan and splayed his hands wide across Sam's stomach and abs, moving them slowly up until Sam's shirt bunched up under his arms. Never, he'd never done this before, but he wanted, needed to taste Sam, needed to hear his reaction. Kissing him one last time, he moved his mouth down along Sam's throat, then lower, kissing his flat male nipple while playing with the other. He tongued Sam, again and again before he leaned in and sucked hard on his nipple, now firm under his mouth and tongue.

Dean played him, touched him, in ways no one else ever had. Dean knew all the right places to touch, as if all those times they'd given each other massages was in preparation for this. His brother's touch had him moaning. The firm thud against the wardrobe knocked the air out of him a little but that was nothing compared to the way Dean stole his breath as his lips kissed their way down Sam's body.

Sam was not, abso-fucking-lutely not ready for the firestorm that erupted in him when Dean sucked hard on his nipple. He cried out, felt the cum dribbling from his suddenly very stiff cock, and his knees almost caved on him. His hands went to Dean's head, running his fingers through those short locks, holding him gently against his nipple, more moans spilling from him.

"Oh, God, Dean, never thought, oh, fuck..." Sam gasped.

Sounds that were all wrong coming from a brother sounded oh so fucking right to Dean, so fucking right he wanted to hear them again. "You and me both, bro," he managed, raking his teeth across Sam's chest then concentrating on his other nipple. His hand moved down Sam's abs and brushed down over his cock, to his thigh and back, in a couple practice runs. Each time, his palm moved over Sam's hard shaft, a bolt of heat traveled up Dean's hand and arm and had him moaning.

Sam hissed when Dean's hand brushed his cock teasingly again and again, the feeling rampaging through him only heightened by Dean's moans. "Yes," he whispered encouragingly.

The next time his hand moved down, Dean stopped right over Sam's groin and cupped it against Sam's thigh, squeezing as he lifted his face up. "So fucking hot, Sammy. I..." he surged forward and took Sam's mouth again, tongue fucking him as he squeezed his brother's cock and frantically rubbed his own arousal against the hard column of Sam's thigh.

Sam thrust against the pressure of Dean's hand and when Dean's tongue slid in and out of his mouth, his hips thrust in time and speed to match. His arms closed around Dean, holding him close as they fucked against one another. "More," Sam begged. "Want more."

Pushing Dean back violently, Sam ripped off his own shirt. He couldn't stand it and crossed over to Dean, sliding down to his knees, his hands undoing Dean's belt and opening his jeans. Never would he have figured he would give a blow job, and definitely not to his brother, but he just couldn't help himself. He pulled out Dean's cock and immediately began sucking on it, moaning at the pleasurable taste he didn't quite expect.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sam!" Dean gripped Sam's shoulder with one hand to regain his balance and then lowering his head to watch his brother's mouth work his cock. As his dick moved in and out of the hot wet depths of Sam's mouth, he gave a deep groan, his other hand grabbing Sam's hair, sometimes to stroke, sometimes to tug him closer when he got frustrated and had to chase his brother's mouth. With each thrust of his hips, each view of Sam's lips wrapped tightly around his cock, and each of Sam's groans vibrating around his hard length, a firestorm of heat gathered low in Dean's belly. Leaning slightly back, he started to fuck Sam's mouth, harder, faster, a sheen of sweat building over his forehead as he concentrated on being more careful, trying not to choke Sam as his need spiked and kept spiking.

Sam took every thrust, sucking harder, remembering all the blowjobs he'd gotten and what always felt the best to him and what he'd most liked watching. No doubt he was inexperienced, sometimes finding it hard to keep the right rhythm, sometimes having to pull off a moment to catch his breath and stretch his jaw, but he tried hard not to leave Dean in need. stroking him vigorously when he had to pull off for those brief seconds. Dean was pumping harder and harder and it suddenly occurred to him that Dean was quite probably going to end up coming in his mouth. He was torn between wanting it and being completely turned off by the idea of taking and swallowing down his brother's seed. Then he remembered how much better it was when he got to come in a girl's mouth, to watch her take it all in.

He'd do it. For Dean, he'd do it. He began to work Dean even harder, and began to hum along his shaft.

Dean was pushed to the edge... pushed past the edge by his brother. He didn't know whether he was coming or going as he fucked Sam's mouth, groaning as his skin stretched taut over his balls. He should warn Sam, should knock him away, but it wasn't happening. He grabbed Sam by the hair and tilted his head back so he had more leverage as he fucked harder, vaguely aware this couldn't be comfortable for Sam, but his desperate need trumped everything else.

"Sammy!" he suddenly shouted as white hot heat raced through him, sending hot come shooting into the back of Sam's throat. Dean kept bucking as another rope of come left him, some of it spilling from Sam's mouth. "Oh fuck... oh God, Sam, oh God..." he whispered, slowly regaining control over his body.

He dropped down to his knees in front of his brother, his eyes warming at the sight of the sticky mess covering Sam's mouth. "Hot damn... I look good on you," he whispered, closing his arms around Sam and kissing him, licking him clean, and kissing him again. He held him for a while like that, then whispered in his ear. "Your turn. Gonna make you blow you wad so fucking hard, Sam. You want that?" he asked, his hands roaming over Sam, then moving to his belt buckle.

Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes at Dean's comment. It hadn't been bad, though when Dean's second shot hit him, he wasn't able to swallow quite fast enough. Fuck, how did girls do it? He couldn't deny he loved being in Dean's arms, being close to him like he hadn't been in so very long. Being able to touch him without his brother brushing him off with the 'no chick-flick' armor he wore. Dean's arms had always been strong, always comforted him whether it was a skinned knee or a broken heart, at least when they were younger. When Dean asked him if he wanted a blow job Sam grinned.

"I want to give you whatever you want. This is your night. You get to be selfish. I want you to take what you want, anything you want, from me. Just so long as you're touching me or kissing me, and just making me crazy." He kissed Dean intensely. "So what do you want to do to me?"

"After what you did to me... Oh I'll be touching you alright," Dean answered, undoing Sam's belt and unzipping his pants with his mouth locked with Sam's. He did want to touch and kiss, he wanted to drive Sam nuts, wanted to know so many things about him, things that might have made him cringe to ask before. "I wanna find out of Sam Winchester really cries through sex," he whispered, making it sound rough and dirty.
Pulling away, he peeled off his own tee shirt, tugging it over his head, then got rid of his jeans and shorts. "Don't move," he said when Sam prepared to pull his own pants down. Moving closer, still kneeling in front of Sam, Dean gripped his brother's jaw and dropped his gaze to his scarlet lips. "Who knew... who knew you tasted so good?" he asked, slowly pulling him close just by his jaw and brushing his lips over Sam's. He could tease now, he wanted to. That's how he liked his brother, mad and bitchy until he got what he needed.

The thought flashed through his mind as he escaped Sam's tongue, then tangled his own with Sam's before moving to his ear and licking around the shell. His other hand lightly moved over Sam's groin, sliding over jeans, his flesh at the gaping opening, and then over the material of the jeans again. He could tell from the way Sam bucked his hips, he wanted to be freed from the jeans, but he kept playing with him. "Touching you," he noted, sensing a complaint coming on, and chuckling softly.

"Barely," Sam growled. "I didn't say you could tease me to death, jerk," he said, but sort of enjoyed the tease. He had always wondered how Dean made love that had the girls all starry eyed over him. It was not something he had ever planned on asking or experiencing. He ran his fingers over Dean's nipple and circled it then pinched it before rubbing it again. "I never thought, fuck, I never thought touching a guy would be such a turn on. Or maybe...maybe it's just because it's you, because you know me. Because I know you. But this is a whole new level of knowing. Learning things we never could otherwise." He took hold of Dean's jaw and brought their lips together for a kiss. "You taste pretty damned hot too."

"Maybe we shouldn't explore the psychology of this right now," Dean answered, letting Sam draw him into the kiss this time, but breaking it only a moment later. "You think so, huh? Good to know," he said, sliding his hands down Sam's sides to the waist band of his jeans and tugging them down slowly as he looked down. "Hello." Knowing he was annoying Sam, Dean pulled him into his arms and gave him a proper kiss, grinding his mouth against Sam's and tangling their tongues together in a heated battle.
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