[SPN] FICLET: "Flare," Sam/Dean, NC17
Jan. 29th, 2008 01:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephanometraTitle: Flare
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Summary: Porn.
Warnings: Porn.
Notes: Hopefully this is the good kind of pretentious, overly tactile second-person porn. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clex_monkie89. 461 words. Thanks hansbekhart and balefully.
***
The sink is cool under your hands, but everywhere else you're burning up, consumed by blood heat and friction.
Sam makes these soft, low noises as he moves inside you, his breath sticking low in his throat. His hips press hard against your ass, steady, slow; he pushes you up onto your toes with every thrust. Your arms take your weight, your fingers clenched white against the stained porcelain.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck, tongue pressing against the vein in your throat like he's licking up your cock instead. "God, Dean, just look at you."
Your chin brushes your collarbone, stubble scraping against your skin as you shake your head no, no, because it's already too much: his thighs hard behind yours, his hair tickling your shoulders as he kisses your jaw, his cock filling your ass.
He nips at your earlobe, spiders fingers up your neck to tilt your head up, forcing you to look into the mirror above the sink. And you look wrecked, eyes glittering and half-lidded with lust, bruises from Sam's hands and mouth dark on your skin. You can't look away, your eyes locked on your reflection in the smeared glass, at the arms wrapped around you and the dark head whispering filth in your ear. The two of you are both blushing with the exertion, red-faced and panting, and sweat drips down your forearms, pooling in the basin of the sink.
Sam's hand curls around your cock while you stare, mesmerized by the vision in the mirror, and the pleasure's a kind of shock, a hot little spark catching in your belly. Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open as you cry out, and he hides a smile against your skin.
You moan his name and rock forward into his fist, and he touches your lips with two fingers to stop the sound, hips faltering in their steady rhythm as he watches you suck them deeply into your mouth.
"Fuck," he breathes, "beautiful, so pretty when I'm fucking you open, you see?" And you gasp, breath stuttering as he drags his thumb through the slick pumping out of your cock. You're still staring at yourself in the mirror, staring at him as he fucks you, staring at the heat flushing your chest as he tells you to come for him.
"I can't," you say, and then it's like you can't help it: you seize up, chin dropping to your chest, and paint his fingers and the lip of the sink with white. He follows, groaning into your shoulder, gulping the humid air as he shudders against you.
And when you raise your head again, his eyes meet yours in the mirror, and you smile.
***
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Summary: Porn.
Warnings: Porn.
Notes: Hopefully this is the good kind of pretentious, overly tactile second-person porn. For
clex_monkie89. 461 words. Thanks hansbekhart and balefully.The sink is cool under your hands, but everywhere else you're burning up, consumed by blood heat and friction.
Sam makes these soft, low noises as he moves inside you, his breath sticking low in his throat. His hips press hard against your ass, steady, slow; he pushes you up onto your toes with every thrust. Your arms take your weight, your fingers clenched white against the stained porcelain.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck, tongue pressing against the vein in your throat like he's licking up your cock instead. "God, Dean, just look at you."
Your chin brushes your collarbone, stubble scraping against your skin as you shake your head no, no, because it's already too much: his thighs hard behind yours, his hair tickling your shoulders as he kisses your jaw, his cock filling your ass.
He nips at your earlobe, spiders fingers up your neck to tilt your head up, forcing you to look into the mirror above the sink. And you look wrecked, eyes glittering and half-lidded with lust, bruises from Sam's hands and mouth dark on your skin. You can't look away, your eyes locked on your reflection in the smeared glass, at the arms wrapped around you and the dark head whispering filth in your ear. The two of you are both blushing with the exertion, red-faced and panting, and sweat drips down your forearms, pooling in the basin of the sink.
Sam's hand curls around your cock while you stare, mesmerized by the vision in the mirror, and the pleasure's a kind of shock, a hot little spark catching in your belly. Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open as you cry out, and he hides a smile against your skin.
You moan his name and rock forward into his fist, and he touches your lips with two fingers to stop the sound, hips faltering in their steady rhythm as he watches you suck them deeply into your mouth.
"Fuck," he breathes, "beautiful, so pretty when I'm fucking you open, you see?" And you gasp, breath stuttering as he drags his thumb through the slick pumping out of your cock. You're still staring at yourself in the mirror, staring at him as he fucks you, staring at the heat flushing your chest as he tells you to come for him.
"I can't," you say, and then it's like you can't help it: you seize up, chin dropping to your chest, and paint his fingers and the lip of the sink with white. He follows, groaning into your shoulder, gulping the humid air as he shudders against you.
And when you raise your head again, his eyes meet yours in the mirror, and you smile.
