Burning for You
Sep. 15th, 2011 10:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grianchlochTitle: Burning for You
Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1206
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: Written for Kink Bingo 2011, for the Washing/Cleaning square.
Summary: Their latest hunt leaves Sam burning up with a fever. Dean takes care of him and discovers a novel way to break it.
”The claws are poisonous. If either of you gets as much as a scratch, you’ll start burning up.” Zooey, the small dark haired herbalist who asked for their help, holds out a large bottle. “This is the only thing that will help cool you down. Add a little to cold water, mix it well and use a cloth to wipe all over the skin. Water on its own won’t work, neither will ice. The poison makes the blood hot, in every sense of the word.” Dean raises an eyebrow as she blushes. “If you keep applying the tincture, once the fever breaks, you’ll be okay.”
“Okay, but it won’t be an issue.” Dean’s certain. “We’ll take it down before it gets close.”
“It’ll make me feel better if I know you have it. Just in case.”
Sam takes the bottle and puts it into his backpack. “Just in case.”
When it comes down to it, the fugly monster with the razor sharp claws is faster than they expected, and stronger. Dean lunges towards it, sacred blade in hand, but it swerves out of the way, and jumps over his head. Cursing, he turns, this time aiming the killing blow just right, and taking it’s head clean off. Panting, he looks at the body, and looks around to see where the head went.
“Dean!” Sam yells from behind, as the headless corpse squirms towards Dean.
Sam plunges his own knife down into the centre of the monster’s chest. It spasms, it’s arms flailing, and Sam sits back on his ass in shock.
“Sam?” Dean’s straight at his side. “Sammy? Did it …?”
“Yeah.” Sam grimaces and pulls his shirts up. There’s a scratch on his stomach, so small that it’s hardly seeping blood, but the skin is broken.
“Damn.” Dean curses. “We’ve got to get you back to the motel room.”
“We can’t leave this here.”
“Get in the car, I’ll torch the place” Dean orders.
For once, Sam does as he’s told. His belly is beginning to feel hot, the poison already pumping through his veins.
Dean splashes the can of gasoline around the cabin, and sets it alight, running back to the Impala. Sam’s panting, and when Dean touches his forehead, he’s already burning up.
“Hang on, Sammy, motel’s not far.”
Dean drives like the devil is on his tail, and hauls Sam into the room, locking the door behind them. He strips Sam, pulling his boots off, then his jeans, and tugs the shirts off over his head.
There’s no bath in their room, just a shower stall, and Dean remembers that Zooey said that water on its own wouldn’t help. He thinks for a minute, then he’s on his feet, putting a plan in motion. He turns on the cold tap in the bathroom, letting it run as cold as possible. He races back out to the Impala, and grabs the cooler from the trunk, emptying the half dozen bottles of beer out of it. Back in the room, he fills the cooler with cold water, pours in a quarter of the tincture and swirls it around.
Not caring that he’s going to soak the bed, he takes a wash cloth, soaks it in the mixture and puts it on Sam’s stomach, where the scratch is now looking red and angry. Sam whimpers and hollows his stomach as if he’s trying to escape the cool touch, but Dean doesn’t let him. He drags the cloth across Sam’s skin, all over his torso first, then down each arm. He squeezes the cloth out onto the floor, and re-soaks it, this time beginning with Sam’s face and neck. Dean works back down his torso, then down each leg, wondering how long it will be until the fever breaks, hoping, almost praying that it’ll be soon, that Sam will come though this.
Sam writhes on the bed, he’s burning up, flames cat-licking over his skin, every inch of it too hot to bear. Inside, his blood boils, coursing fast through veins and arteries, scalding his flesh, setting fires in his heart. Even the air he breathes turns to steam in his lungs. Delirious, he twists, writhes, trying to get away from the heat, but needing to escape from the cold Dean’s inflicting on him too, crying out as flames lick up his back, making him arch off the bed.
“Damnit, Sammy, lie still.”
Dean tries to hold his brother down as he wipes the cloth soaked in sweet herbal tincture across his fevered body. He turns Sam onto his stomach, washes every inch of skin, then turns him back. He’s about to start again, with clean water and more tincture when Sam bucks up, his cock swollen, angry red and throbbing against his stomach.
Dean takes the cloth and runs it over the hard flesh. Sam cries out, and Dean pales at the heat radiating from it. He’s had it in his hands and mouth often enough to know what’s normal for Sam, and hot he may be, but this is way over the top. He cools the cloth down again, and wraps it around Sam’s straining dick.
“Dean!” Sam cries out again, and thrusts up into Dean’s hand, hips twitching and jerking.
Moisture leaks from the tip, and Dean scoops it up on his finger. It’s hot as blood, and Sam’s begging now.
“Please, Dean, please, can’t … need to …”
Dean growls, and throws the cloth back into the cooler. He takes Sam’s cock in his hand and closes his mouth around the head. Sam’s skin is sweet with whatever was in the tincture, and Dean’s glad it wasn’t made from anything nasty. Sam sobs out his name and fucks up into Dean’s mouth. Dean holds his hips down until he can get into a better position, licking and sucking as he moves, then he lets Sam go. Sam’s out of control, thrusting into Dean’s mouth and deeper as Dean relaxes and takes everything Sam’s giving him. Despite it being a completely fucked up situation, Dean’s getting hard himself, and as Sam uses him, Dean unbuttons his pants and frees his own dick, working it hard.
Sam’s body tenses, his balls drawing up and without warning, his orgasm hits, and he floods Dean’s mouth with burning come. Dean gulps it down greedily, the taste and the heat pushing him over the edge himself, to come over the damp bedspread.
Dean licks Sam clean as he pulls off, relieved to see that he’s lying quieter now, still panting, but not whimpering, and his skin feels marginally cooler.
Dean cleans himself up and tucks his dick away before going over every inch of Sam’s skin again with the cloth. It takes a while before he’s satisfied that the fever has broken, and at least now he knows why Zooey was blushing when she told them about the effects of the poison.
He manhandles Sam onto the other bed, which is dry and clean. Still, he stays awake until Sam cools down enough that he’s satisfied his temperature won’t begin to rise again. Then he falls asleep, exhausted, by Sam’s side, a hand over Sam’s heart in case he needs him in the night.
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Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1206
Beta:
seleneheartDisclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Notes: Written for Kink Bingo 2011, for the Washing/Cleaning square.
Summary: Their latest hunt leaves Sam burning up with a fever. Dean takes care of him and discovers a novel way to break it.
”The claws are poisonous. If either of you gets as much as a scratch, you’ll start burning up.” Zooey, the small dark haired herbalist who asked for their help, holds out a large bottle. “This is the only thing that will help cool you down. Add a little to cold water, mix it well and use a cloth to wipe all over the skin. Water on its own won’t work, neither will ice. The poison makes the blood hot, in every sense of the word.” Dean raises an eyebrow as she blushes. “If you keep applying the tincture, once the fever breaks, you’ll be okay.”
“Okay, but it won’t be an issue.” Dean’s certain. “We’ll take it down before it gets close.”
“It’ll make me feel better if I know you have it. Just in case.”
Sam takes the bottle and puts it into his backpack. “Just in case.”
When it comes down to it, the fugly monster with the razor sharp claws is faster than they expected, and stronger. Dean lunges towards it, sacred blade in hand, but it swerves out of the way, and jumps over his head. Cursing, he turns, this time aiming the killing blow just right, and taking it’s head clean off. Panting, he looks at the body, and looks around to see where the head went.
“Dean!” Sam yells from behind, as the headless corpse squirms towards Dean.
Sam plunges his own knife down into the centre of the monster’s chest. It spasms, it’s arms flailing, and Sam sits back on his ass in shock.
“Sam?” Dean’s straight at his side. “Sammy? Did it …?”
“Yeah.” Sam grimaces and pulls his shirts up. There’s a scratch on his stomach, so small that it’s hardly seeping blood, but the skin is broken.
“Damn.” Dean curses. “We’ve got to get you back to the motel room.”
“We can’t leave this here.”
“Get in the car, I’ll torch the place” Dean orders.
For once, Sam does as he’s told. His belly is beginning to feel hot, the poison already pumping through his veins.
Dean splashes the can of gasoline around the cabin, and sets it alight, running back to the Impala. Sam’s panting, and when Dean touches his forehead, he’s already burning up.
“Hang on, Sammy, motel’s not far.”
Dean drives like the devil is on his tail, and hauls Sam into the room, locking the door behind them. He strips Sam, pulling his boots off, then his jeans, and tugs the shirts off over his head.
There’s no bath in their room, just a shower stall, and Dean remembers that Zooey said that water on its own wouldn’t help. He thinks for a minute, then he’s on his feet, putting a plan in motion. He turns on the cold tap in the bathroom, letting it run as cold as possible. He races back out to the Impala, and grabs the cooler from the trunk, emptying the half dozen bottles of beer out of it. Back in the room, he fills the cooler with cold water, pours in a quarter of the tincture and swirls it around.
Not caring that he’s going to soak the bed, he takes a wash cloth, soaks it in the mixture and puts it on Sam’s stomach, where the scratch is now looking red and angry. Sam whimpers and hollows his stomach as if he’s trying to escape the cool touch, but Dean doesn’t let him. He drags the cloth across Sam’s skin, all over his torso first, then down each arm. He squeezes the cloth out onto the floor, and re-soaks it, this time beginning with Sam’s face and neck. Dean works back down his torso, then down each leg, wondering how long it will be until the fever breaks, hoping, almost praying that it’ll be soon, that Sam will come though this.
Sam writhes on the bed, he’s burning up, flames cat-licking over his skin, every inch of it too hot to bear. Inside, his blood boils, coursing fast through veins and arteries, scalding his flesh, setting fires in his heart. Even the air he breathes turns to steam in his lungs. Delirious, he twists, writhes, trying to get away from the heat, but needing to escape from the cold Dean’s inflicting on him too, crying out as flames lick up his back, making him arch off the bed.
“Damnit, Sammy, lie still.”
Dean tries to hold his brother down as he wipes the cloth soaked in sweet herbal tincture across his fevered body. He turns Sam onto his stomach, washes every inch of skin, then turns him back. He’s about to start again, with clean water and more tincture when Sam bucks up, his cock swollen, angry red and throbbing against his stomach.
Dean takes the cloth and runs it over the hard flesh. Sam cries out, and Dean pales at the heat radiating from it. He’s had it in his hands and mouth often enough to know what’s normal for Sam, and hot he may be, but this is way over the top. He cools the cloth down again, and wraps it around Sam’s straining dick.
“Dean!” Sam cries out again, and thrusts up into Dean’s hand, hips twitching and jerking.
Moisture leaks from the tip, and Dean scoops it up on his finger. It’s hot as blood, and Sam’s begging now.
“Please, Dean, please, can’t … need to …”
Dean growls, and throws the cloth back into the cooler. He takes Sam’s cock in his hand and closes his mouth around the head. Sam’s skin is sweet with whatever was in the tincture, and Dean’s glad it wasn’t made from anything nasty. Sam sobs out his name and fucks up into Dean’s mouth. Dean holds his hips down until he can get into a better position, licking and sucking as he moves, then he lets Sam go. Sam’s out of control, thrusting into Dean’s mouth and deeper as Dean relaxes and takes everything Sam’s giving him. Despite it being a completely fucked up situation, Dean’s getting hard himself, and as Sam uses him, Dean unbuttons his pants and frees his own dick, working it hard.
Sam’s body tenses, his balls drawing up and without warning, his orgasm hits, and he floods Dean’s mouth with burning come. Dean gulps it down greedily, the taste and the heat pushing him over the edge himself, to come over the damp bedspread.
Dean licks Sam clean as he pulls off, relieved to see that he’s lying quieter now, still panting, but not whimpering, and his skin feels marginally cooler.
Dean cleans himself up and tucks his dick away before going over every inch of Sam’s skin again with the cloth. It takes a while before he’s satisfied that the fever has broken, and at least now he knows why Zooey was blushing when she told them about the effects of the poison.
He manhandles Sam onto the other bed, which is dry and clean. Still, he stays awake until Sam cools down enough that he’s satisfied his temperature won’t begin to rise again. Then he falls asleep, exhausted, by Sam’s side, a hand over Sam’s heart in case he needs him in the night.
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Date: 2011-09-18 09:25 pm (UTC)I'll see what I can do ;)
I'm glad you enjoyed it so much to want a sequel!
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