citrusjava

Title: It Ain't Me
Pairing: Dean/Soulless!Sam
Words: 555
Warnings/kinks: D/s, dub con, sub drop, aftercare
Summary: kansaskissedlips wanted Soulless Sam experiencing sub drop

This Sam slips into subbing for Dean almost naturally. Dean shakes his head to himself, bitter with self loathing. Nothing natural about this Sam.

He takes Dean’s orders willingly, though Dean is constantly on edge, waiting for the one - the crucial one - this Sam won’t take. Knows Sammy better than to expect him to just remain Dean’s obedient pet. This Sam brings Dean moral dilemmas that make Dean’s blood run cold. But he does bring them to Dean now. Wants to learn. Wants Dean to be pleased. Asks for Dean’s guidance - I’m not supposed to laugh, right? - and Dean hates that this thrills him with warmth. A disgusting part of him likes that. Sammy looking up to him again.

It doesn’t take much then, to get Dean to want it too. To agree to do it. Tilt Sam’s face up to look at Dean, much too collected until Dean punches it out of him, and Sam’s expression softens between pulses of pleasure. Sam on his knees, head thrown back and moaning when Dean tells him to be good for Dean, to swallow Dean down. Sam is good, throat working, little moans vibrating up Dean’s cock, each one almost making Dean lose his footing. He looks down at this boy he loves, that Dean is using, this monster looking up him needily, that Dean should never want, should never want, and Dean comes, like crashing his car, and he can’t tell for whom.

Dean pulls out unceremoniously, slumps on his bed, rubs a hand over his face.

Sam, this Sam, is right up and off to take a shower, efficient. Dean’s Sam would have made im talk about it.

Dean leans back on the dubious comforter, allows himself to get lost in gloom.

It takes a while for him to notice the shower had stopped running, but Sam is not coming out.

“Sam?”

Nothing. Dean grabs his gun without a thought, moves silently aginst the wall, towards the bathroom door. Always safety procedures.

“Sammy?” he pushes the door open. Nothing. Looks in, and Sam is crouched against the shower’s wall, smaller than should be possible for a wall of merciless muscle.

“What’s going on?”

Sam lifts his face towards Dean, looking heartbreakingly confused.

“ Dean, I feel like I’m empty”. Sam’s face twitches in what looks like pain, eyes lost and round. Dean clamps down on the urge to tell this Sam he should feel empty, that he is empty.

Places a hand on Sam’s shoulder, just means to get him out of the shower. “Come on”. But Sam’s truly shivering, Dean knows it’s real.

At the touch, Sam grabs Dean hand, breath hitching, holds it to his shoulder with both his hands. He is shaking stronger.

“Sam?” Dean places a hand on Sam’s head, and Sam melts into it. “Dean, what’s happening?”.

Dean doesn’t know, but he knows his brother. He runs his fingers through Sam’s damp air, and Sam lets out a long soft sigh, almost nonexistent breath, and rests against it. Dean guides Sam’s head to his shoulder, hand sliding down to rest soothingly on Sam’s back, trailing comforting circles. Sam hides his face in Dean’s chest, breath slowly evening out. “Shh, shh. It’s all right, Sammy”.

And for that moment, just then, it really is.