Bimbo Baggins (cherie_morte) wrote in infatuated_ink,
Bimbo Baggins
cherie_morte
infatuated_ink

Supernatural: To Be or Knot to Be

Title: To Be or Knot to Be
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content (including knotting kink) and Fuck-or-Die-related Dubcon
Word Count: 2,019
Author’s Note: Written for morganoconner’s prompt: “Sam/Dean, a fuck-or-die curse which also involves knotting”. Thank you for the DWB gift, BB! ♥ In other news, since this is knotting fic and apparently everyone gets to make up new, awesome rules for this kink, I have decided alphas don’t knot every time they have sex, and once they knot with someone, they are mated for life. YOU’RE WELCOME, SAM AND DEAN. For the record, I just wrote this. It’s not beta’d, it’s not looked over--but it IS porny! So, yay? ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eosrose, you can now read this in epub format here.
Summary: Balthazar curses Dean--three hours to knot with Sam or he dies. Dean is hesitant, Sam isn’t.

“Sam, stop that,” Dean snaps.

Sam presses one more kiss to his brother’s neck and pulls away reluctantly. “Stop what?” he asks.

That.”

Sam laughs, low and hungry. “If we’re gonna do this, we might as well enjoy it.”

Sam dips back down for more kisses. He is enjoying it. And he knows how fucked up that is, because Dean isn’t. But just this one time, the thing Sam wants is what’s best for his brother; he can’t help how hot it gets him.

“We’re not doing it,” Dean says, pushing him away. “We’re not doing anything.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Sam pulls back. “So your plan is to what, sit here and die?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” says Dean, shifting uncomfortably.

Sam moves his hand down, cups his brother’s erection. “No. I won’t let you die. You’re weak right now, Dean. So hard for me.” Sam bites his lip. “You can’t stop me.”

“You wouldn’t,” Dean says with an edge. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“You can’t actually mean you want to do this to me.”

“Do what to you, Sam? I’m trying to not do anything.”

Sam shakes his head. “We’ve gone through some pretty fucked up shit to save each other’s lives. This doesn’t even make the list.”

“Not gonna let some angel make us--” Dean groans. “Sam, stop.”

“Honestly, as far as angel curses go, this isn’t so bad. He told us how to fix it. He gave us three hours for something that should take less than one. It could even be nice. We’ve been in worse situations.”

“Nice?”

“I like sex. You like sex. Probably we shouldn’t do it together but,” Sam shrugs, “can’t be worse for us than dying.”

Dean shakes his head frantically. “I won’t,” he says. “I won’t.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour and a half now. I’m sure you’ve made it longer than anyone else would have. Admirable job. Can we do this now?”

“Sam,” Dean says. “Never.”

Sam slams his hands down. “Dean, you are not fucking dying over this!”

Dean smiles, actually goddamn smiles, and reaches out to Sam. He pushes a hair behind Sam’s ear, then repeats the action over and over, as if he’s stuck somewhere between wanting to touch Sam and wanting to remind himself of all the reasons he can’t. Sam grabs his hand and holds it in his own, stopping the movement.

“Do you remember that time we went to L.A., Sammy?” Dean asks.

Sam blinks a few times, trying to figure out if he’s hearing things right. “Are you trying to distract me or something? What does that have to do with--?”

“It was a little bit after Dad and Jess, right before everything got screwed up on that deal. And I was, I don’t even remember, eating shit on set or something. But you laughed, Sam, really did for the first time since before Stanford and I...” Dean shakes his head. “I remember thinking, ‘I’ll die if I don’t touch him.’” He licks his lips and looks away. “It’s not the first time I make this choice, man. It’ll just be the first time it sticks.”

“You want me,” Sam says. He shakes his brother. “You want me, I want this. What the hell is the hang up?”

“You don’t want me, you just don’t want me to die.”

“I’ve always wanted you. And if i didn’t, tough shit. You would have made me do it as soon as Balthazar told us the terms to keep me alive.”

“You’re not me,” says Dean. “You won’t force me, I know you won’t.”

“Maybe not,” Sam says, pitching his voice low. And he’s playing dirty--he knows he’s playing dirty, but he has to now. He has to save Dean. “But I did some terrible things the last time you died. I do terrible things.”

“Like what?” Dean laughs. “What’s there left to do at this point?”

“You died for me last time. I couldn’t kill myself, even when I wanted to, because you did it for me. This is stupid, though. You’re doing this because of your own shit and when you’re gone, I won’t owe you anything. There’ll be no one to protect me, Dean. Not from angels and demons. Not from myself.”

“Sam, you can’t.”

“Oh, I fucking can. And I’m not living without you again.” Sam leans close to his brother’s ear and whispers. “Fuck me, Dean. Please.”

“It’s not just,” Dean finally looks like he’s wavering, but he still shakes his head. “He didn’t say I have to fuck you, Sam, he said I have to knot you.”

Sam’s mouth goes dry. It’s not like he’s never fantasized about that. He’s always known Dean was an alpha--it couldn’t really be more obvious--and he’s been wanting to ask for months why Dean never knotted Lisa. Of course, that’s not the kind of thing you ask your brother, and maybe Sam didn’t really want to know. Maybe he was happy pretending Dean was waiting for him.

“So you’d rather die than be stuck with me?”

“You’re not an omega, Sam, and don’t try to pretend you are.”

“So?”

“So I’ll hurt you. And it won’t just be one time, either. I’ll be forcing you for life. Hurting you for life. Just let it go, okay?”

“It won’t be the first time an alpha knots a beta, Dean. It’s safe.”

Dean snorts. “What, have you done research on this or something?” Sam stares back, defiant, and Dean’s eyes go round. “Jesus Christ, Sam, you’ve done research on this?”

“I told you, Dean. I’ve wanted it for a long, long time.”

Sam leans closer, kisses Dean tentatively, just for a moment. Dean whimpers, sits up when Sam tries to pull away, forcing him back for a deeper kiss. Jackpot, Sam thinks. Just had to let Dean catch his scent, taste him. Dean won’t be able to stop now.

Prepping takes a lot longer than Sam would like, Dean working his fingers in, loosening Sam with way too much care. Sam gets it. He really wasn’t built to take what Dean’s packing, and the burn, at least the first time, will probably be hell. But Sam’s not focusing enough to enjoy getting fingered. He can’t stop staring at the clock on the nightstand, counting down. Fucking will probably take at least forty minutes if Dean has to breed him, and they’re already down to one hour. And that’s only if Dean starts coming right away.

“Get on with it,” Sam finally demands, and he can feel Dean trying not to do as he’s told. It’s hopeless, of course, he pulls his fingers out in under a minute.

Sam can hear his brother fumbling with the lube behind him, can imagine Dean wasting the whole damn bottle to make sure Sam’s okay. Then Sam thinks of how wet it’ll be after Dean’s done pumping him full of come and Sam cries out in response to the thought, just as Dean’s pushing the head of his cock against Sam’s hole.

“You sure you want this?” Dean asks, misinterpreting Sam’s reaction.

Sam rolls his eyes and pushes his body back against his brother’s dick. Dean sinks in, splits Sam open on his cock. Sam’s fucked guys before, even fucked alphas, but Dean is bigger than any of them, and Sam actually panics thinking of how much bigger it’ll get when he knots.

“Dean, please,” Sam begs. “Do it.” Before either of us changes our minds.

Dean kisses Sam’s shoulder, soft and tender, and Sam knows it’s starting when the kiss turns into a bite, and Dean shoves him into the mattress, pulling Sam’s ass up toward him.

“All mine,” he says, moving down, so his chest is pressed against Sam’s back. Sam turns his head, gasping for breath. Dean pushes his lips to Sam’s ear. “No one else gonna touch you now, Sammy. Gonna mark you up.”

Sam gasps, grinding up into Dean. He’s big, he’s too big, Sam is gonna explode. It hurts, it hurts and it feels so good that it only makes it hurt more. Dean’s knot is shoved all the way into Sam’s prostate--it’s not like getting fucked, the occasional hit in that sweet spot, the time to recover before another hot spike shoots through him. It’s constant, Sam can’t think, can’t form words, is already coming without so much as a finger on his cock.

“Sam? I’m hurting you?” Dean asks, sounding like his worried big brother again. Sam feels him try to pull away, but he’s stuck already. Dean makes a distressed noise, but Sam just laughs, triumphant. It’s so wrong to be glad. Dean is stuck with him. Stuck with him. Sam fucks down into the mattress, his own come sliding against his softening dick.

And now that he’s moved, Dean needs to thrust, needs to fuck Sam harder, even as he wants to get away he shoves into Sam. Sam cries out again.

“Oh God. Fuck, oh God,” Dean is saying. “Can’t stop, Sam, I can’t.”

“Please,” says Sam. “More.”

Dean delivers, losing his grip, getting much rougher than Sam knows he intends. And damn if that doesn’t make Sam’s dick start getting hard all over again. “No one’ll touch you,” Dean is murmuring. “No one. Just me. I’m sorry. Fuck, no I’m not.”

Sam still can’t think enough to talk, so he reaches back for one of Dean’s hands, pulls it away from where it’s bruising his thigh, gripping Sam as he pushes in. He presses Dean’s palm over his dick, makes sure Dean can feel the come and how hard he is again, and Dean lets out a shudder.

“Like it, don’t you? Like me making you my little slut.”

Sam nods. “Want it, want you to breed me, want all that come, Dean, please. Please.”

Dean thrusts again and tries to warn Sam, but it’s too sudden. He can feel Dean start coming, he can feel the steady stream and how it doesn’t lighten up, and it makes him starting begging Dean, exactly like the slut Dean promised he would be.

Dean laughs and works Sam slowly, building the orgasm. “Calm down, Sammy, gonna get you there,” he promises. “Got plenty of time before I’m done with you.”

Sam knows that, of course. He wasn’t kidding about the research, and he’s watched enough porn about this, imagining what it would be like with Dean, to be ready for the wait. But the videos were nothing like this, they were just sex, and this is Sam’s big brother, whispering everything Sam’s ever wanted to hear, knowing how to touch him in order to time Sam’s climax with Dean’s knot finally letting up so that his brother pull out of him.

Dean looks different when Sam can finally pull himself together enough to look. Sam knew that would happen, too, but the way movies imitate this can’t compare to the feeling of actually looking at someone after mating for life.

Dean turns and scans Sam’s face for a few seconds before smiling, and somehow he looks even more beautiful than usual. “Jesus,” he says, reaching out to kiss Sam.

Sam lets him, goes with it easily, which seems to reassure Dean. Dean’s not pulling away now, not dead, not dying. It’s a lot of good news to take in at once.

“I’m glad you didn’t with Lisa,” Sam blurts out before he can help it.

Dean turns over on his back. “I tried, thought it was what you would’ve wanted,” he says softly. “Talked about it with her a few times.” Dean shakes his head. “I couldn’t.”

“Well, that’s weirdly romantic of you,” says Sam, rolling over, on top of his brother, and kissing him.

Dean laughs breathlessly against Sam’s mouth. “No, I mean, I physically couldn’t do it. Thought I was broken, but I think deep down I knew it just wasn’t gonna happen unless...”

“And you still put up that fight about fucking me?” Sam smiles. “Next time, I’m gonna let you die, idiot.”


Note! If you're one of the people waiting on a drabble from my anniversary shindig--sit tight! This is just a preview. More Wincest drabbles should be up shortly (today or tomorrow), depending on if we get internet at any point during the drive to Florida. J2 ones will come after that. :D
Tags: supernatural
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