Birds Talk To Me, If I Go Down On My Knees
birds talk to me, if I go down on my knees
Supernatural
Sam/Dean
750 words
adult content:sexuality
Dean lifted the blanket from his head and peeked out. From the high, wide, uncurtained window he could see sky, streetlamps, the tops of bare trees. It had grown dark while they’d been under. The room turned milky blue, shadows puddled in the corners.
“It’s snowing,” he said. He wiped a sweaty strand of hair from his forehead with the side of his hand. Sam tilted his head up, looking out the window upside-down, exposing his long thin neck. His creased and pointed chin. He bowed his back, and Dean shifted on top of him.
“Cool,” Sam said, and it came out a half-whisper. He looked back at Dean, and skittered his eyes over his face. Down across his chest and back up. “Um,” he said. He reached for the blanket, closed the hem of it inside his fist, but didn’t pull it up, or away. Dean was watching him, in the light, his eyes wide and dark and hungry, and that was a major breach of their unspoken contract. So was talking. The safety and sanctuary of their private world was dissipating, breaking apart in the light, and Sam wasn’t ready to let it go, yet. He tugged the blanket up over Dean’s bare shoulder, brushed and nudged the edge of it over the nape of his neck, into his long hair.
Dean blinked, and smiled, as if coming back to himself from someplace far off. “Just needed some air,” he said, and kissed Sam lightly in the soft vee between his ribs, where his skin had tightened and gone goosebumped from the cold. He got an arm beneath the edge of the blanket and bunched it in his fist, and pulled it up over them both, sealing out most of the light. It was dark again. Easy again. Sam felt Dean’s hair tickle over his cheeks while his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
“What do you want now?” Dean whispered. His breath hot, stale in Sam’s nose, over his parted lips. His brother shifted over him, bare skin against bare skin, and Sam bent his knee. Let the inside of his thigh tickle lightly against Dean’s leg, against the high, smooth muscle of his ass. They’d already done kissing. For as long as Dean would let him, anyway, because Dean didn’t like it. He got bored of it real quick, or it made him feel weird, or something, because after a while he would turn his head, close his eyes and go quiet. Dean didn’t like it – not on the mouth, anyway – but Sam loved it. He loved the soft give of Dean’s lips, the warm and wet animal feel of his tongue, the way their teeth sometimes knocked together. The quiet, sucking, smacking sounds their mouths made, meeting, and parting. He liked being able to hold Dean’s head close, to clutch his fingers in his hair. Just the thought of it made him flood with warmth and the basic, uncomplicated insistence of lust.
They’d already done kissing, and they’d done handjobs. Both of their dicks together, hands making the same strokes; and Sam getting off first, as usual. The first bitter smell of him gone, now, and there was only the sweet lingering funk of sex between them, under the blankets. Dean said he could wait, that he would wait, and when he shifted, Sam could feel his still-hard dick nudging him and kissing his skin with threads of precome.
“You could-“ Sam started, and didn’t know how to finish. It would sound stupid if he just said it. He’d never had to ask for it, before. He’d only ever waited for Dean to decide to do it, his body humming for it every time they did this, went under; strung out with disappointment and thwarted want, the times it didn’t happen.
“What?” Dean said. Laughed a little, but not meanly. The rules were different, here. It was just them, here, no need for masks. The darkness hid everything, allowed everything. “Just say it.” He lapped at Sam’s collar-bone. Bit down on his shoulder, gently, gently. “Whatever it is,” he whispered. “I’ll do it.”
“I want you to. Like you did, before. You know. With your mouth.” Sam stared up at the dying light filtering through the blanket. Blue, and the material bunching like clouds. He risked a glance across his nose at his brother, but Dean was scuttling down, further under, and was lost in the dark.
