grianchloch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
grianchloch) wrote2011-09-05 08:31 pm
grianchloch) wrote2011-09-05 08:31 pm
Entry tags:
Once Upon a Time in the West
Title: Once Upon a Time in the West
Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1825
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seleneheart
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Notes: Set after episode 6x18 Frontierland. Written for Kink Bingo 2011, for the Historical Roleplay square.
Summary: Seeing Dean dressed as a cowboy gets Sam hot under the collar. Dean has no problem acting out Sam's fantasy.
After the failure of their Back to the Future western adventure had left them all disheartened, the mood in Bobby’s place brightened considerably when Samuel Colt’s package arrived. Having the means to defeat Eve put them back in the game, although plans to research their next steps were on hold. An exhausted Bobby was crashed out, fast asleep on the couch, recovering from his soulenoscopy, and Cas had fluttered off looking no better. Which left Sam alone with Dean who had put the duster back on and was practicing his quick draw technique in the middle of the kitchen.
Sam sighed. Dean was a dork, no doubt about it, but he was also hot as hell in the long coat and boots he’d picked up back in the Old West. Add in the hat, and that Sergio Leone Spaghetti Western stare of intensity that he’d obviously been practicing in front of a mirror, and Sam had to admit he was feeling more than a little hot under the collar of his embroidered shirt.
Dean dramatically flicked the coat to one side, stretched out his fingers, and then grabbed a non-existent gun from the holster that hung around his hips. He took out various offending pots and pans, then twirled the invisible gun and slipped it back into the holster with a smug look of satisfaction on his face.
Normally, Sam would never even think about touching Dean while they were at Bobby’s, but there was only so much he could take. He really needed to get Dean out of the house and completely out of earshot just in case Bobby woke up.
“We should finish sorting through that stuff in the barn.” Sam walked past Dean towards the door.
“What, now?” Dean grumbled, “In case you hadn’t noticed, we just scored a major victory. Shouldn’t we be celebrating?” He pouted and pushed the brim of his hat up with one finger.
Sam’s eyes traveled down the length of Dean’s body, lingering on the spurs attached to the boots Dean was wearing. Long boots, Sam thought, thankful they were on the inside of Dean’s pants, otherwise he would be doing a great job of impersonating the phoenix and going up in flames on the spot.
“We will, once Bobby wakes up. But we promised him we’d do this.” Sam was insistent.
“Fine.” Dean sighed, and began to shuck off the coat.
“You should leave that on. It could get cold out there.” Sam coughed and opened the door, color rising on his cheeks.
“Cold?” Dean stared at him, eyes narrowing.
“And the hat.” Sam fled outside, heading for the barn without looking back.
In the kitchen, a dirty grin crept over Dean’s face.
“Sammy, you sly dog.”
He squared his shoulders, and followed his brother, making a quick detour to the Impala on the way.
“Samuel Winchester?” Dean pushed open the door to the barn and walked in, looking at Sam with a cold and calculating stare.
“Uh, yes?” Sam eyed his brother, a shiver running down his spine as Dean got closer.
“The name’s Dean Colt and I’m the Sheriff in these parts,” Dean pulled the duster open just enough to show the star still pinned to his waistcoat. “You’re in big trouble, boy.”
“I am?” The hairs prickled on the back of Sam’s neck as Dean went along with his fantasy without needing to be asked.
“Yep. Stealing a man’s horse carries a heavy penalty.” Dean strode around Sam, eyes raking over him.
“I’m sorry, I know it was wrong …” Sam stammered out.
“Sorry don’t cut it.” Dean was suddenly up in his face, one hand grasping Sam’s chin as he glared into his eyes. “But today could be your lucky day.” Dean brushed his thumb none too gently across Sam’s mouth. “I could be lenient with the right persuasion.”
Sam whimpered and parted his lips just enough to allow the tip of Dean’s thumb to slip between them. He lapped at it with his tongue, shuddering as Dean’s eyes darkened with lust.
“Show me what else you can do with that mouth.” Dean rasped out.
Sam nodded, and slipped to his knees, pushing the heavy duster open as Dean leaned back against the wall behind him. Dean’s hand rested on the top of Sam’s head, fingers slipping into the dark strands of hair and tightening, pulling him closer until Sam’s cheek was pressed against Dean’s crotch. Sam’s eyes closed and he groaned, nuzzling the growing bulge.
Dean pulled him away by his hair, and unzipped his pants, freeing his cock. The holster still hung around Dean’s hips, so his erection jutted out from under it.
“Make it good.” Dean instructed. He swiped the head of his dick across Sam’s mouth, which opened to let him in.
Sam shuddered as he was surrounded by the scents of leather and Dean, his own cock straining against his zipper. Dean groaned as Sam swallowed him down, inch by inch until his hips twitched with the need to fuck.
“Yeah, that’s it boy, take it.”
Dean began to thrust, pistoning in and out of Sam’s mouth, using him, fucking him. Sam held on to Dean’s leather clad legs, almost enveloped by the duster, but Dean pulled away roughly, holding onto the base of his cock, keeping his orgasm at bay.
“Much as I’d like to paint your pretty face, I’ve got a hankering to fuck that sweet ass.” He pulled Sam to his feet. “Strip. I wanna see exactly what I’m getting.”
Sam did as he was told, slipping off his jacket, fingers fumbling over the buttons on his shirt until he gave up and pulled it off over his head. He unfastened his jeans, pushed them down over his hips and toed off his boots. Now naked, he looked at Dean, who was staring at him appreciatively.
“You ever been fucked, boy?”
“No … no sir.” Sam stammered out, reckoning that he may as well give into the fantasy altogether even though he knew Dean wouldn’t let him forget it later.
On cue, Dean’s leering smirk grew.
“Turn around so I can see that virgin ass.”
Sam turned around and put his hands on the wall in front of him.
“I said I want to see it.”
Sam blushed beet red and reached back, parting his cheeks and canting his hips back, displaying himself. He jumped as a blunt finger, slippery with the lube Dean had fetched from the Impala, poked at his exposed hole.
“Easy there.” Dean moved closer, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder. His dick prodded Sam’s flank, leaving a slippery trail and the edges of the duster brushed against Sam’s bare skin. “Ain’t gonna hurt you.”
Dean worked Sam open, pushing one finger deep, then adding another, stroking his prostate and making him squirm and pant.
“Please.” Sam gasped. Pushing back onto Dean’s hand, fucking himself on Dean’s fingers.
“Hands against the wall,” Dean grunted.
He crowded right up against Sam’s back, taking his cock in hand and guiding it to nudge at Sam’s entrance until Sam pushed back with frustration. As soon as he was in, Dean ground his hips, forcing himself deeper until he was flush against Sam. He took hold of Sam’s wrists and blanketed him with the duster.
Sam felt exposed, being naked while Dean was fully dressed, a fact that was emphasized by the leather and heavy fabric pressing against him. The edges of the coat brushed against Sam’s skin and he squirmed as Dean fucked him.
“That’s it, make it real good.” Dean breathed in Sam’s ear, nipping at his earlobe. “Gonna ride your ass so hard you’ll be feeling it for days.” Dean pulled back just enough to slap Sam soundly on the ass.
Sam yelped, biting off the sound, cursing up a storm as Dean chuckled against his shoulder.
“You’ve got a filthy mouth on you, boy.” Dean grabbed Sam’s hair, pulling his head back, forcing his neck into a taut arch. His mouth slammed down on Sam’s, tongue forcing it’s way inside. Sam groaned, and Dean countered with a growl. He let go of Sam’s wrists and skimmed his hands down Sam’s body, fucking into him as he did so. Callused hands pressed against Sam’s stomach, holding him tight, slowing his pace down until he was rocking, small thrusts of his hips keeping him deep inside Sam. His fist closed around his brother’s dick, and he worked him hard, licking at the sweat that was forming between Sam’s shoulder blades.
Sam shuddered and bucked, pushing himself back, trying to make Dean go faster.
“That’s it, fuck yourself on my cock.” Dean panted. “You’re gonna come for me, boy.” Dean tightened his grip on Sam’s dick, working him faster as he thrust deeper. “Now.”
Sam couldn’t hold back. He let go, pumping up into Dean’s fist, surrendering completely to the fantasy. He bit back his cries as Dean worked him through his orgasm, fingers now slippy with come still sliding up and down his shaft, milking him of every last drop. Dean powered into Sam, pushing him against the wall, biting down on his shoulder and groaning as he emptied himself. Sam’s muscles trembled around him, and Dean threw his head back. His hat fell to the floor of the barn, and Dean slumped forward, resting his forehead on Sam’s back.
“Since when have you had a thing for cowboys?” he panted.
“I don’t have a thing for cowboys, Dean.”
“Uh huh.” Dean smirked. “So any other kinks you wanna tell me about?”
“No.” Sam rolled his eyes and wriggled out of Dean’s grasp, looking around for his clothes and avoiding looking at his brother’s smug face.
Dean bent down to pick the hat up and dusted it off before putting it back on.
“No? See, until half an hour ago, I had no idea you had a cowboy kink,” Dean raised his hand and stuck his thumb up to count one. “A wanna be a virgin again kink,” Dean raised a finger to add to the thumb. “And you called me sir at least once …” Dean stuck another finger up, as Sam whirled around to glare at him.
“Since those are my kinks, I’ll get rid of the duster and the hat, cause you won’t want them taking up space in the Impala.”
There was silence for a moment, then Dean shook his head, shrugging.
“There’s room for them.” He smoothed his hand down the long coat and swaggered towards the door, turning back and giving Sam a stern glare. “You remember, boy, no more breaking the law, otherwise I’ll be back.”
Sam shouldn’t have found that so hot, but he grinned to himself as he watched Dean stride out of the barn, knowing that in his brother’s head, the music to The Good, the Bad and the Ugly was playing as he left.
Free Counters
Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1825
Beta:
seleneheartDisclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Notes: Set after episode 6x18 Frontierland. Written for Kink Bingo 2011, for the Historical Roleplay square.
Summary: Seeing Dean dressed as a cowboy gets Sam hot under the collar. Dean has no problem acting out Sam's fantasy.
After the failure of their Back to the Future western adventure had left them all disheartened, the mood in Bobby’s place brightened considerably when Samuel Colt’s package arrived. Having the means to defeat Eve put them back in the game, although plans to research their next steps were on hold. An exhausted Bobby was crashed out, fast asleep on the couch, recovering from his soulenoscopy, and Cas had fluttered off looking no better. Which left Sam alone with Dean who had put the duster back on and was practicing his quick draw technique in the middle of the kitchen.
Sam sighed. Dean was a dork, no doubt about it, but he was also hot as hell in the long coat and boots he’d picked up back in the Old West. Add in the hat, and that Sergio Leone Spaghetti Western stare of intensity that he’d obviously been practicing in front of a mirror, and Sam had to admit he was feeling more than a little hot under the collar of his embroidered shirt.
Dean dramatically flicked the coat to one side, stretched out his fingers, and then grabbed a non-existent gun from the holster that hung around his hips. He took out various offending pots and pans, then twirled the invisible gun and slipped it back into the holster with a smug look of satisfaction on his face.
Normally, Sam would never even think about touching Dean while they were at Bobby’s, but there was only so much he could take. He really needed to get Dean out of the house and completely out of earshot just in case Bobby woke up.
“We should finish sorting through that stuff in the barn.” Sam walked past Dean towards the door.
“What, now?” Dean grumbled, “In case you hadn’t noticed, we just scored a major victory. Shouldn’t we be celebrating?” He pouted and pushed the brim of his hat up with one finger.
Sam’s eyes traveled down the length of Dean’s body, lingering on the spurs attached to the boots Dean was wearing. Long boots, Sam thought, thankful they were on the inside of Dean’s pants, otherwise he would be doing a great job of impersonating the phoenix and going up in flames on the spot.
“We will, once Bobby wakes up. But we promised him we’d do this.” Sam was insistent.
“Fine.” Dean sighed, and began to shuck off the coat.
“You should leave that on. It could get cold out there.” Sam coughed and opened the door, color rising on his cheeks.
“Cold?” Dean stared at him, eyes narrowing.
“And the hat.” Sam fled outside, heading for the barn without looking back.
In the kitchen, a dirty grin crept over Dean’s face.
“Sammy, you sly dog.”
He squared his shoulders, and followed his brother, making a quick detour to the Impala on the way.
“Samuel Winchester?” Dean pushed open the door to the barn and walked in, looking at Sam with a cold and calculating stare.
“Uh, yes?” Sam eyed his brother, a shiver running down his spine as Dean got closer.
“The name’s Dean Colt and I’m the Sheriff in these parts,” Dean pulled the duster open just enough to show the star still pinned to his waistcoat. “You’re in big trouble, boy.”
“I am?” The hairs prickled on the back of Sam’s neck as Dean went along with his fantasy without needing to be asked.
“Yep. Stealing a man’s horse carries a heavy penalty.” Dean strode around Sam, eyes raking over him.
“I’m sorry, I know it was wrong …” Sam stammered out.
“Sorry don’t cut it.” Dean was suddenly up in his face, one hand grasping Sam’s chin as he glared into his eyes. “But today could be your lucky day.” Dean brushed his thumb none too gently across Sam’s mouth. “I could be lenient with the right persuasion.”
Sam whimpered and parted his lips just enough to allow the tip of Dean’s thumb to slip between them. He lapped at it with his tongue, shuddering as Dean’s eyes darkened with lust.
“Show me what else you can do with that mouth.” Dean rasped out.
Sam nodded, and slipped to his knees, pushing the heavy duster open as Dean leaned back against the wall behind him. Dean’s hand rested on the top of Sam’s head, fingers slipping into the dark strands of hair and tightening, pulling him closer until Sam’s cheek was pressed against Dean’s crotch. Sam’s eyes closed and he groaned, nuzzling the growing bulge.
Dean pulled him away by his hair, and unzipped his pants, freeing his cock. The holster still hung around Dean’s hips, so his erection jutted out from under it.
“Make it good.” Dean instructed. He swiped the head of his dick across Sam’s mouth, which opened to let him in.
Sam shuddered as he was surrounded by the scents of leather and Dean, his own cock straining against his zipper. Dean groaned as Sam swallowed him down, inch by inch until his hips twitched with the need to fuck.
“Yeah, that’s it boy, take it.”
Dean began to thrust, pistoning in and out of Sam’s mouth, using him, fucking him. Sam held on to Dean’s leather clad legs, almost enveloped by the duster, but Dean pulled away roughly, holding onto the base of his cock, keeping his orgasm at bay.
“Much as I’d like to paint your pretty face, I’ve got a hankering to fuck that sweet ass.” He pulled Sam to his feet. “Strip. I wanna see exactly what I’m getting.”
Sam did as he was told, slipping off his jacket, fingers fumbling over the buttons on his shirt until he gave up and pulled it off over his head. He unfastened his jeans, pushed them down over his hips and toed off his boots. Now naked, he looked at Dean, who was staring at him appreciatively.
“You ever been fucked, boy?”
“No … no sir.” Sam stammered out, reckoning that he may as well give into the fantasy altogether even though he knew Dean wouldn’t let him forget it later.
On cue, Dean’s leering smirk grew.
“Turn around so I can see that virgin ass.”
Sam turned around and put his hands on the wall in front of him.
“I said I want to see it.”
Sam blushed beet red and reached back, parting his cheeks and canting his hips back, displaying himself. He jumped as a blunt finger, slippery with the lube Dean had fetched from the Impala, poked at his exposed hole.
“Easy there.” Dean moved closer, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder. His dick prodded Sam’s flank, leaving a slippery trail and the edges of the duster brushed against Sam’s bare skin. “Ain’t gonna hurt you.”
Dean worked Sam open, pushing one finger deep, then adding another, stroking his prostate and making him squirm and pant.
“Please.” Sam gasped. Pushing back onto Dean’s hand, fucking himself on Dean’s fingers.
“Hands against the wall,” Dean grunted.
He crowded right up against Sam’s back, taking his cock in hand and guiding it to nudge at Sam’s entrance until Sam pushed back with frustration. As soon as he was in, Dean ground his hips, forcing himself deeper until he was flush against Sam. He took hold of Sam’s wrists and blanketed him with the duster.
Sam felt exposed, being naked while Dean was fully dressed, a fact that was emphasized by the leather and heavy fabric pressing against him. The edges of the coat brushed against Sam’s skin and he squirmed as Dean fucked him.
“That’s it, make it real good.” Dean breathed in Sam’s ear, nipping at his earlobe. “Gonna ride your ass so hard you’ll be feeling it for days.” Dean pulled back just enough to slap Sam soundly on the ass.
Sam yelped, biting off the sound, cursing up a storm as Dean chuckled against his shoulder.
“You’ve got a filthy mouth on you, boy.” Dean grabbed Sam’s hair, pulling his head back, forcing his neck into a taut arch. His mouth slammed down on Sam’s, tongue forcing it’s way inside. Sam groaned, and Dean countered with a growl. He let go of Sam’s wrists and skimmed his hands down Sam’s body, fucking into him as he did so. Callused hands pressed against Sam’s stomach, holding him tight, slowing his pace down until he was rocking, small thrusts of his hips keeping him deep inside Sam. His fist closed around his brother’s dick, and he worked him hard, licking at the sweat that was forming between Sam’s shoulder blades.
Sam shuddered and bucked, pushing himself back, trying to make Dean go faster.
“That’s it, fuck yourself on my cock.” Dean panted. “You’re gonna come for me, boy.” Dean tightened his grip on Sam’s dick, working him faster as he thrust deeper. “Now.”
Sam couldn’t hold back. He let go, pumping up into Dean’s fist, surrendering completely to the fantasy. He bit back his cries as Dean worked him through his orgasm, fingers now slippy with come still sliding up and down his shaft, milking him of every last drop. Dean powered into Sam, pushing him against the wall, biting down on his shoulder and groaning as he emptied himself. Sam’s muscles trembled around him, and Dean threw his head back. His hat fell to the floor of the barn, and Dean slumped forward, resting his forehead on Sam’s back.
“Since when have you had a thing for cowboys?” he panted.
“I don’t have a thing for cowboys, Dean.”
“Uh huh.” Dean smirked. “So any other kinks you wanna tell me about?”
“No.” Sam rolled his eyes and wriggled out of Dean’s grasp, looking around for his clothes and avoiding looking at his brother’s smug face.
Dean bent down to pick the hat up and dusted it off before putting it back on.
“No? See, until half an hour ago, I had no idea you had a cowboy kink,” Dean raised his hand and stuck his thumb up to count one. “A wanna be a virgin again kink,” Dean raised a finger to add to the thumb. “And you called me sir at least once …” Dean stuck another finger up, as Sam whirled around to glare at him.
“Since those are my kinks, I’ll get rid of the duster and the hat, cause you won’t want them taking up space in the Impala.”
There was silence for a moment, then Dean shook his head, shrugging.
“There’s room for them.” He smoothed his hand down the long coat and swaggered towards the door, turning back and giving Sam a stern glare. “You remember, boy, no more breaking the law, otherwise I’ll be back.”
Sam shouldn’t have found that so hot, but he grinned to himself as he watched Dean stride out of the barn, knowing that in his brother’s head, the music to The Good, the Bad and the Ugly was playing as he left.
Free Counters