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Despite what Sam says it wasn’t Dean’s fault that they have been going at it like sex depraved nymphomaniacs for the past 6 hours. How was he to have known that the friendly Chinese guy selling flowers down the block was Tu Er Shen, the Chinese God for gay sex, and that the strange flowers he sold Dean were so full of sex pollen that Dean would be sneezing them for weeks to come? See, it wasn’t his fault. Now only if Sam would believe him and stop abusing his poor nipples, he would survive the next six hours without shooting his brains out of his dick.
“Sam! Oh God!”
Dean gasps, weakly trying to push his brother away as he licks a wet stripe over his chest. It’s a miracle that he is even able to talk at that point, actually. What, with Sam rolling his hips so sinuously and working his lips furiously over Dean’s chest, determined to leave at least a dozen hickeys, Dean barely managed to keep enough breath in his lungs to keep his brain active.
“I swear to God – uh,uh – you’re not getting laid for the next two months,” Sam says, claiming Dean’s lips in a bruising kiss, biting and tugging at his bottom lip. “How could you be so – ohh – so stupid, Dean? Oh, right there. Coming! Coming!” He moans hard and long into Dean’s mouth as he comes in hot, white streaks, adding to the crusty, dried mess already on Dean’s stomach. “Fucking hell! How-how much come do I have in me,” Sam says, his words punched out by Dean’s short, hard thrusts.
It must be the magic pollen or something because no matter how many times they come, their balls don’t empty. It is a small mercy, but Dean is thankful for it. It would be a hell of a lot more painful if he were coming dry, since he had come too many times to count already and the curse shows no signs of letting up – evidenced by the fact that his cock is throbbing almost painfully in Sam’s ass.
“C’mon, Sam! Move!” Dean groans, desperately thrusting up into his brother’s wet heat.
“Gimme a moment,” Sam says, panting roughly. Dean doesn’t have one moment because Sam is blowing his wet breath right onto his over sensitized nipples and they seem to be hardwired to his dick right now and he needs to come so badly he can go mad with it.
Dean flips them over and starts thrusting roughly into Sam, no finesse or aim in his movements as he chases after an orgasm. Sam lets his legs fall back and lets Dean use him. He just lies there and takes it, only making little uh, uh, uh noises, body limp and pliant underneath Dean. Like a living sexdoll, Dean’s sex addled brain supplies, and fuck, fuck, fuck. He comes so hard he blacks out.
When Dean comes to he’s still inside Sam, he’s hard again and Sam is moving his hips in little upward bucks. “Sammy,” he groans, voice rough and scratchy, looking up to find his brother drinking water from a little plastic bottle. He passes it onto Dean and commands him to hydrate. Dean takes ginger sips of the cool liquid and his parched throat thanks him for it. If only they had the foresight to have some food at hand as well.
“Dean, please,” Sam whines, impatient already. Dean’s cock is throbbing as well and he knows he can’t hold on any longer. He caps the bottle and throws it next to the pillow, grabbing Sam’s thighs and starts fucking him in earnest again. He pulls Sam in for a kiss, biting and nipping at his lips. He pulls back to admire his view and basks in the sight of Sam’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
They had been at it for six hours now. In these six hours Dean managed to give Sam a ring of hickeys over his neck, angry bite marks all over his chest and too many purpling, finger shaped bruises on his hips and on various areas of his thighs with how hard he fucked him. Sam had probably drawn blood on Dean’s back with all the scratching he’s done, not to mention the array of bruises on his chest. The sheets are soiled beyond recovery and the room will probably never not stink of sex again.
In all this time Dean hadn’t pulled his cock out of Sam once. He just couldn’t. The moment he comes his cock starts getting hard again and he just has to fuck into Sammy, can’t help it. So blowjobs and handjobs or any other way to get off without outright fucking was out of the question. Dean had fucked Sam until his legs gave out and then Sam rode Dean until he couldn’t anymore. Now, with a little bit of strength recovered, Dean starts fucking Sam hard enough to slam the headboard against the wall. The plaster cracks as the dent they already made starts widening and the wallpaper rains over them like snow.
Well, there goes the safety deposit.
“Harder, Dean,” Sam says, clenching tight around Dean when Dean hits his prostate. “Harder. You got us into this fucking mess you better deliver, you bastard.”
Dean lets out an ill-timed laugh. “Fucking mess!” he crows. Sam manages to garner enough strength to cuff him on the head.
“Ow! That hurt!”
“My ass is sore, Dean,” Sam half-yells, the tail end of his words melting into a long drawn out moan. “And you’ve got the balls to crack jokes?”
“Hey, it’s not like my dick will have any skin left after this,” Dean grunts, increasing his pace and folding Sam in half as he fucks into him. More like grinding into him, actually. Dean didn’t have the energy to pull out more than inch and Sam’s loose hole was deliciously hot anyway.
His come squelches around in Sam’s ass, making an obscene sound with every thrust of their hips. Dean watches in fascination as some of his come leaks out of Sam. He gathers up the pearly drops, feeds them back into Sam’s hole and watches his fingers get sucked in greedily. Sam whines and fucks himself harder onto Dean’s cock and fingers.
“So loose, Sammy! Look at your hole so hungry and desperate for my come!” Dean says, not even caring that he sounds like a clichéd porn movie.
“You know what else is hungry?” Sam says in between harsh pants. “My – oh, fuck! – my stomach. For real food.”
Dean slows down his thrusts – but doesn’t stop. No, he can’t stop – and pulls his fingers out. He casts a longing glance at the table on the other side of the counter where the breakfast he bought this morning still remains. Someone’s stomach growls and he doesn’t know if it’s his or Sam’s.
“What do we – oh, fuck yes – what do we do?” he asks Sam. Dean’s balls tighten, breath comes out in harsh pants and his hips lose his rhythm as his orgasm approaches. And from the way Sam’s stripping his dick, he’s close too.
“Oh yeah, Dean! Right there! Ah! Do that again.” Sam jerks his dick off in fast, hurried movements and sighs in relief when he finally comes with Dean’s help. “What were you saying?” he asks, looking adorably confused, forehead crinkled and mouth parted in post orgasmic tiredness.
Dean smiles at him and kisses his nose while rolling his hips, once, twice, before going back to grinding his hips against Sam’s ass. The shape of his hips is probably indented into Sam’s ass by now.
“I was asking if you had any bright ideas about our food situation,” he says and Sam’s stomach growls on cue.
While Dean fucks him, Sam thinks on it for a while before one side of his lips curve into a smile and he raises an eyebrow in challenge. “You could always lift me up and carry me across the room while still fucking me. If you can do that, that is.”
Dean doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response. He simply snakes his arms under Sam and pulls him into his chest before getting his legs underneath him. He’s gonna show Sam that he might have grown into a gigantor when Dean wasn’t looking, but Dean could still manhandle him like when they were teenagers.
Maneuvering them off the bed while still buried in Sam is not easy and all kinds of awkward, but Dean gets it done, resolutely ignoring Sam’s laugh-moans all the way. After he finally manages to stand up with Sam holding onto him like a baby koala, Dean starts to debate the merits of this idea.
Under normal circumstances he can lift Sam up or fuck him against the wall, sure, but his legs are shaking and his thighs are aching from all the fucking they’ve already done. But Dean is nothing if not stubborn and takes a few steps towards the table, his hips bucking up helplessly and Sam kissing his ear and jaw all the while.
He doesn’t get to the table, however, and stumbles over his feet just a couple of feet away from the delicious looking burger.
“Shit! Sam!” Dean grunts, eyes wide, when he loses his balance.
“Fuck!” Sam flails his arms around, like a monkey trying to do ballet, before unwrapping his legs from around Dean’s hips and reaches behind himself to steady them. His hands hit the table and his legs and Dean’s arms outstretched behind Sam break their fall, and that’s the only reason one, or both, of them don’t have broken bones when they go down along with the table.
But all thoughts of pain or hunger leave Dean’s brain as Sam clenches around him reflexively and Dean picks up right where he left off, fucking into Sam at a punishing pace. Sam just takes it and gives back as good as he gets, knotting his fingers into Dean’s hair and pushing back into each thrust.
“Oh fuck, Sam! Yeah, baby, squeeze my dick just like that. So fucking hot Sammy.”
“Dean,” Sam whimpers, his voice shaky at best. He snakes a hand between them, feeling where their bodies are connected and hissing when his fingers brush against his abused asshole.
“You like that Sammy?” Thrust. “Like being spread wide.” Thrust. “And being fucked open.” Thrust. “On my dick?” Thrust. “So full until you are bursting?” Thrust.
“God, yes! Dean! You fucking asshole! Fuck me harder!”
Dean smirks a shark grin. “Ask me nicely, Sammy.” He dives in to fuck his tongue into Sam’s mouth. “Beg,” he says, lips brushing the shell of Sam’s ear.
“Oh please, Dean, fuck me harder,” Sam wails, his eyes rolling back into his head. “Need more, need you, need to come, please.”
It’s too much. The overstimulation on his cock and Sam’s fucked out voice begging him for more – it’s just too much for Dean to take and he shuts his brother up with his lips. Dean takes Sam’s cock into his hand and starts jerking him off in tune with his thrusts, fucking his tongue into Sam’s willing mouth as he comes.
When Sam comes, he moans brokenly, shooting jets of come all over their stomachs and whines when the touch of Dean’s hand on his sensitive dick becomes too much. Dean takes his hand off and starts rubbing Sam’s come onto his tummy and that’s when he feels it. A little startled, Dean looks between their bodies… and there it is. Sam follows Dean’s eyes and gasps.
“Look at that, Sammy,” Dean growls, pressing into the telltale bulge distending Sam’s normally flat abdomen. Sam lets out a high-pitched whine and his cock starts leaking precum like he didn’t come just less than a minute ago. “I knocked you up with my come.”
It’s not too long before they both come again and the spell lets up just enough for them to catch a breath.
Sam falls back and closes his eyes and Dean mouths lazily at the racing pulse in his brother’s neck, aftershocks still coursing through both their bodies. Sam’s stomach growls and the poor kid cries out weakly, sweaty all over and too weak to even open his eyes. Dean is in no better shape, and it certainly is not his fault, but he stills feels a twinge of guilt for getting them into this situation.
He never thought he’d ever have to apologize for too much sex.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, willing his body to stop rocking up into Sam and cause him more discomfort. But the curse affects Sam just as much and when Dean stops, Sam starts fucking himself onto Dean’s cock, looking for stimulation.
“I’s ‘kay,” Sam slurs.
The burger that was on the table is now lying on the dirty carpet beside them, half unwrapped.
Dean had just gotten back from his coffee run that morning with breakfast and the cursed flowers and was just opening his burger when Sam had emerged from the bathroom. The spell had hit them both in the same instant and Dean was up and in Sam’s face in the next. He was too busy throwing Sam onto the bed and ripping the clothes off his own body to notice Sam’s blown pupils and flushed chest. Or the fact that they both went from zero to sixty in no time. It was only after they had both come twice and building towards the third orgasm that they figured out something was wrong.
Even as Dean starts thrusting into his brother again, he reaches for the burger and offers Sam a bite. Sam’s grateful moans are only slightly muffled by the burger. Dean doesn’t wait to figure out if the pleasure is from finally having something solid to quench his hunger or if it’s because Dean had hit his sweet spot. He takes a couple of bites before offering it to Sam again. Between them Sam and Dean managed to finish the two burgers Dean had bought for himself before they come once more. After that Dean even takes a bite out of Sam’s rabbit food without complaining… too much.
The dried come between their bodies makes Dean itchy and they both stink with sweat and sex. Dean keeps running his greasy fingers in Sam’s hair and all over his chest, but doesn’t stop fucking. Sam keeps moaning even as his head bangs into the fallen table and keeps trying impale himself further onto Dean’s cock. They don’t stop until the spell runs its course on the twelve-hour mark. By the time they are done, Sam’s got rugburn on his back and his hole looks painful, all pink and puffy and swollen. Dean’s knees are bruised to all hell and his cock looks like it will never be able to get up again, not even in the face of the limited Busty Asian Beauties issues or a naked Sam bent over the Impala.
“What possessed you to get the flowers anyway?” Sam asks when they are both settled on the other bed in the room. Dean had never been so grateful that they continued to get twin bed rooms than in that moment when he had fallen onto the bed, face first because his back was too scratched up. They hadn’t bothered to shower and just made their way onto the bed like two old people who had just been through the bender, joints creaking and muscles aching.
Dean doesn’t have the energy to open his eyes and he sure as hell doesn’t have the energy to lie about his motives like he had planned to do when he bought the flowers. “Just thought I’d do something romantic for you. Woo you like you deserve to be,” he murmurs into the pillow. And freezes when he realizes what he had just admitted to. He keeps his eyes closed and hopes that Sam didn’t heard him.
But Sam did hear him and Dean snaps his eyes open when Sam kisses him – not hard and fast like their kisses had been for the past twelve hours, but smooth, soft, languid and so full of love. His hand continues to rest on Dean’s cheek as he lets up the kiss and Dean can’t help but chase after those abused and bitten raw lips. Sam doesn’t move too far though. His lips brush softly against Dean’s as he whispers.
“If I didn’t think I was at risk of ‘death by too many orgasms’, I’d get on your cock and show you how much I appreciate that.”
That was the Winchester way of saying ‘I love you’, and Dean’s glad that Sam hadn’t made an all-out chick-flick moment out of it.
“Well thank god for that because if I try to get it up one more time my dick will fall off.”
Sam laughs and curls up against him, and Dean’s arms instinctively move to wrap Sam up in a protective embrace.
“Had enough sex for a month?” Sam mumbles into the crook of Dean’s neck, his eyelashes fluttering against the sensitive skin there as he begins to lose the battle against exhaustion.
“Nah… maybe enough for a week,” Dean says, closing his eyes again and burying his nose into Sam’s hair. “As long as the butt fucking isn’t induced by crazy old Asian gay sex gods with too much time on their hands.”
fin