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

Supernatural: A Sort of Harem

Title: A Sort of Harem
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Genre: Porn, absolutely no pretensions about having a plot.
Rating: NC-17 for Graphic Sexual Content and Language
Word Count: 1,866
Author’s Note: Written for ephemerall.
ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eosrose, you can now read this in epub format here.
ETA 1/2/2019: Podfic by tipsy_kitty can be found here!
Summary: Sam teaches Dean that libraries can be fun after all. With his penis.

A man’s library is a sort of harem. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dean’s chair tips over too far and he has to grab at the table to keep himself from tumbling backwards. It’s the third time in the last hour, so Dean is ready for it, and Sam doesn’t even bother snickering at this point. Dean thinks maybe Sam doesn’t know it happened. Sam is in his own little world. And Dean? Dean is not jealous of a book, Dean will never be jealous of a book. Dean has way too much dignity for that.

He looks to the clock on the wall. It hasn’t moved at all since the last time he looked at it, which was four hours ago. At least, that’s what it feels like to Dean. Sam will probably look up from the pile of books on the table at 6:30 when the librarian kicks him out and say something about how he can’t believe it’s closing time already, it feels like they just got there. They didn’t just get there. They got there at 11 in the morning. It is now 4:45 p.m. No human should ever be asked to endure the torments Dean Winchester is currently putting up with for his brother.

But it’s fair. It’s only fair. Dean promised. Sam let him choose the hunt; all Sam asked was that Dean not dump him at the library to do all the research himself. But seriously, it’s not like Dean is helping. Every time he tried, Sam smacked his hand away within three minutes and informed him he was doing it wrong. And anyway, Dean is pretty sure Sam figured out everything he needed before noon and just forgot to mention that to Dean so he could carry on with his sick habit.

Dean lets out a long suffering sigh. No response. He repeats it. Sam’s eyes shift over for less than a second. There’s a head shake so subtle, Dean almost misses it. Then Sam is sucked back in. Dean’s going to have to work harder to get his attention.

He rocks in his chair, drums his fingers on the table, he breaks out the big guns and lets his foot run up Sam’s leg.

“Dean, what?”

“What what?” Dean asks innocently.

“What do you want from me? I’m trying to concentrate.”

Dean hopes his smile is endearing, because Sam’s scowl is reaching new levels of bitchy, even for Sam.

“I’m bored,” he says, drawing it out like a petulant child.

“Why don’t you, I don’t know, read a book then. The kids section is in the back.”

“Har har. You’re so clever.”

Sam raises his book, but it doesn’t matter, because Dean knows exactly what the smile he’s trying to cover looks like. Now all he has to do is trap Sam: keep him amused, make sure he doesn’t remember he’s annoyed.

“Why don’t you entertain me instead? We’ve got a perfectly good room waiting for us just a three minute drive away.” Dean’s foot makes its way up Sam’s leg again, but it doesn’t stop at Sam’s knee like when he was just trying to get Sam to acknowledge him. Sam sits up straighter.

“God, why don’t you go sign up for a computer and freeze it with your porn if you’re so bored?”

Dean frowns. He yanks his foot back and pulls a book towards himself, feigning interest. He’d been sure he had Sam.

Dean reads a remarkable five pages before he decides he would rather kill himself than force himself through another paragraph of Lore of the Ancient Greek World, relevant to the case or not. Dean enjoys a good book just fine, but Sam should be studied for science for actually wanting to spend a beautiful, sunny day inside with crap like this.

Not that Dean is about to complain again. Now his ego is at stake. He’s going to make Sam regret that rejection. He’s going to make Sam sweat. And he’s going to do it without Sam being able to call him out.

He lets out another sigh, this time closer to a moan. He knows he has Sam’s attention, even if Sam’s eyes remain fixed on the text. Dean lets his head fall back, pretends he’s got something to scratch and lets his fingers linger on his neck, moving slowly when he sees Sam trying—and failing—not to watch. Dean licks his lips and leans forward in his seat, pouting enough to torture his brother, but not enough that Sam knows he’s doing it on purpose.

Sam is either playing dirty, or Dean is hornier than he thought. Because as soon as Dean’s little act starts, Sam runs one long finger down the spine of his book and Dean swears he can feel it. He shivers and does his best to hide it. He doesn’t want to let Sam win. But dammit, Sam is winning.

Dean waits until he sees Sam looking at the top of the page to bring a pen to his lips. Dean knows where his strong points are with Sam and he doesn’t need to see Sam’s sweat to know he’s got him flustered. Sam coughs uncomfortably and Dean twirls his tongue absentmindedly over the tip of the pen.

Sam slams his book shut and stands up with enough urgency that Dean looks around for a threat on instinct. Sam picks the books up and walks past Dean and Dean’s immediate thought is that, if Sam comes back with more books, Dean will give up on all hopes of getting Sam to take him back to the motel and possibly give up on life in general, while he’s at it.

But Sam turns back and whispers in Dean’s ear low and heated.

“Come put these back with me,” Sam says, and Dean would probably do anything his brother asked him in that tone, even come back to the library tomorrow.

Sam keeps a quick pace to the section of the library that he got his books from, Dean has to rush to keep up. By the time he gets to the mythology aisle, Sam is already pushing his second book back into place.

“Put this on the shelf behind you,” Sam makes his tone light, like he’s really asking a simple favor from Dean but, when their fingers brush, Dean has to think of the old lady at the front desk in order to keep himself from getting hard.

He’s shoving the volume into the too-tight space Sam took it from when Sam’s hands stop his and Dean feels his brother’s entire body push up against his. Dean swallows a lump and turns to face Sam. Sam isn’t doing anything to prevent his erection.

“Umm. Hi.”

Sam smiles deviously and shoves Dean against the stacks. Dean wraps his arms around Sam’s neck and Sam’s hands find Dean’s hips as their lips meet. Apparently, Dean was doing a better job getting Sam turned on than he’d thought and Sam’s kiss is so insistent it’s almost too much. Sam’s tongue fights into Dean’s mouth, their teeth click together—that doesn’t bother Dean, though, and his hands get stuck in Sam’s hair, tugging him even closer.

“Take me home, Sam,” Dean begs.

“Mmm, no. You’ve been killing me all day. I’m not taking you anywhere,” Sam’s mouth dips to Dean’s neck and Sam licks at the skin Dean has been taunting him with, “until I’ve made you just as uncomfortable.”

Sam starts rutting his hips and Dean is both very comfortable and very uncomfortable. His fingers dig into Sam’s back. Sam bows his head again, sucking at Dean’s bottom lip.

“God, your mouth. You’re such a fucking tease.” Sam brings a finger up to brush Dean’s bottom lip and, Dean can’t help it. It’s instinct. He’s hurting for something to suck on. Sam’s thrusting speeds up when Dean takes his digits into his mouth, but there isn’t enough friction through their jeans—not for Dean, and not for Sam either, if the sounds he’s making are anything to go by.

“You want my mouth, Sammy? You want me to get on my knees and suck you off right here?”

Sam’s eyes move to Dean’s lips and they’re so dark, Dean wouldn’t be able to tell what color they’re supposed to be if it wasn’t something he’s known since before he could properly spell his own name.

“Love my cock down your throat, don’t you, Dean? Don’t care if someone walks by, you don’t care who knows you’re my little slut.”

Dean shakes his head, because right now the librarian, all of the other patrons in the library, and Jesus Fucking Christ Himself could be standing at the end of the aisle scandalized, and Dean still wouldn’t care about anything except making his little brother come.

Dean grabs at Sam’s belt and opens his pants as fast as he can. Sam’s dick is rock-fucking-hard and Dean makes sure to get a good look at it. It’s huge right now, with the vein standing out like a dotted line for Dean’s tongue. He thinks of the stretch and ache in his jaw when he gets that heavy cock in his mouth and he nearly hits Sam when he feels big arms stopping him from going down.

“No, Dean.” Sam cups Dean’s crotch and Dean suddenly realizes why Sam stopped him. He’d almost forgotten his own hard-on in his eagerness to choke on Sam’s, but Sam is looking out for him.

“Get it out, get it out.” Dean thrusts into Sam’s touch and Sam obeys, pulling Dean flush against him as soon as his cock’s free. He can feel the skin from Sam’s cock, Sam’s perfect cock, and he nearly fucking loses it at the contact. Sam wraps one massive hand around both of them and Dean takes the other side as soon as he can think clearly enough to do so.

They kiss in order to try to muffle the noise, but it doesn’t work. They’re still being loud for a library and they’re either lucky not to get caught, or they’re just too wrapped up to know if they have an audience.

It’s not long before Sam shoots sticky white fluid allover Dean’s dick and both of their hands and Dean follows Sam, like a good big brother. Sam licks the come off Dean’s wrist and then lets Dean go to town on his own, but their clothes are still soiled with jizz and in complete disarray.

“We should leave.” Sam says it so casually Dean would question if it had really happened if his hand wasn’t still cold from the contrast of Sam’s spit against the library’s air conditioning. Dean tucks his softening cock back into his pants and feels a spark of regret when Sam does the same.

“You’re such a nerd, Sam,” Dean teases as they make for the Impala. “I bet you were just getting off on the fact that we were in a library.”

“So what if I was?” Sam asks, slipping into shotgun with an obscene look that promises Dean that, library or not, Sam will be getting off again before the night is up.

“Then I think we just found a compromise on libraries, Sammy.”
Tags: supernatural
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