Pairing: DeanxSam

Beta: Kiraynn

Genre: Slash

Note: Spoilers for "Jus in Bello".

Black Ink Confidential

"Are you sure about this?"

Dean looked at his brother, arching one eyebrow. "I'm the one who suggested it."

Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes, then slapped his thigh with one of his hands as if readying himself. "Okay, let's do it."

The blond smirked as he opened the door of the Impala and exited the car. Sam followed and after having closed the doors, they walked to the establishment. The doorbell chimed when they entered and the black-haired girl at the reception desk looked up from her magazine with a smile.

"What can I do for you cuties?"

Dean approached the balcony with a piece of paper. "We want this one. On both of us," he said, showing it to her.

"On both of you? Where exactly?" The girl arched one eyebrow after she'd observed the drawing.

The blond unbuttoned his shirt just enough to show the left side of his chest. Sam was quiet as he just watched the scene, as he knew that any time now she…

"You guys will look cute. I think this couple stuff is awesome."

…would make that statement. Dean looked at his little brother with a smirk. That smirk.

"Really? I think so too."

Sam looked away, his face red as a shiver ran down his spine with that smirk. That could only mean one thing: he was fucked. Whether it was in a good or bad way remained to be seen.

"Come on boys, follow me," said the girl with that same smile.

Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam as he followed; the younger Winchester sighed, resigned and entered the studio with his brother.

--

"Don't be such a girl."

"Shut up."

Sam chuckled at the face Dean made. Sam's was finished and it was the blond's turn; every time the girl would pass the needle on his skin, Dean would hiss a little bit.

"You can take worse and you're complaining about this?" Sam was having too much fun to stop.

"Sammy, you're so gonna pay for this."

That sentence made the brunet stop laughing, as he knew that his brother's tone meant he would go through with his threat.

Half an hour later, the girl applied the healing cream on the tattoo and covered it with a plastic patch.

"You put this on the tattoo every day for ten days after your shower and cover it with some plastic, so that it doesn't stick to your clothes," she said, giving Dean a tube of the cream. "This goes for him, too."

"Thanks, Tracie. I'll make sure we use it," Dean smiled and looked at his brother.

'You're so gonna pay for this.'

Sam gulped at the heat in Dean's eyes, as the phrase that he'd said earlier kept ringing in his mind.

It was going to be a long ten days.

--

Dean was a sadistic son of a bitch who liked to torture his little brother as a favored pastime. Sam's breath caught in his throat as he reached that conclusion. Dean's hand was currently above Sam's thigh, dangerously close to his crotch as the blond tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song Kashmir by Led Zepellin, and every movement sent shivers down Sam's spine.

In the past nine days Dean hadn't touched him. Every time something between them started, Dean would back off and say that their tattoos were healing. Then the bastard would smile and tell Sam to wait.

Sam thought – no, he knew – that Dean was the nymphomaniac out of the two of them, if the marks on his body and the years he saw the great number of females counted for anything.

However apparently, he was the one in need of a good fuck for the last few days.

"I hate you," mumbled Sam out of the blue, then cursed himself as his voice came out breathless.

"And why is that, little brother?" Dean laughed, and without taking his eyes off the road he slid his fingers with purpose towards the tent of Sam's cock in his dark jeans. "Because you haven't been well-fucked for the past few days?"

A soundless gasp escaped Sam's mouth at that statement and he thought that finally…

"Don't worry Sammy," Dean suddenly took his hand away and pressed the gas pedal harder, making the engine rumble, "we'll take care of that."

Sam closed his eyes, his whole body trembling with need and the promise just made matters worse.

--

After a torturous thirty minutes later, they finally found a motel and Dean rented a room for the weekend. Hunting had been slow for the last few weeks, like a quiet before the storm, so they had nowhere else to go for now.

"Come on Sam," Dean said, the keys for their room grasped between his fingers.

Sam didn't have to be told twice. He practically ran after his older brother and he wasn't disappointed because as soon as the door closed behind them, Dean pressed him against it and started to kiss him senseless. All Sam could do was grab him by the neck and pull him closer as he kissed back with equal desperation.

"You better be prepared, Sammy. You're gonna stay in that bed for the whole fucking weekend," growled Dean against his swollen lips

Sam's whole body trembled in anticipation and his hands started opening Dean's shirt. "I've been ready for ten fucking days," moaned the brunet, impatient in his task as he hooked his right leg around Dean's waist.

The blond laughed and grabbed his brother's thigh, squeezing possessively. "Good," he said, his agile fingers slowly unzipping Sam's fly.

Sam's finally had enough of it and tore Dean's shirt open, the buttons flying everywhere. He moaned at seeing the tattoo, still a little red around the edges but otherwise completely healed.

"Liking what you see, kinky boy?" whispered Dean against his chin, his forefinger sliding over the bulge in Sam's boxers.

Sam bucked at the touch, his head thumping on the door behind him. "Undress me," he moaned

Dean growled and bit the exposed neck, leaving a new mark alongside the old ones. He urged his brother to slide his leg down from his waist and with both hands took off his jeans, followed closely by his underwear. His strong hands caught the slim waist and his mouth bit and licked Sam's ear.

"I wanna see it."

Sam's breath was fast and irregular. His whole body flushed with arousal. He made Dean back off just enough so he could get his shirt off, and heard Dean moan fiercely as he pressed him against the wall again. Dean kissed Sam with desperate desire, the rough scrap of his jeans against Sam's naked body only making his need spiral higher.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good…" whispered Dean, licking his way down to the tattoo so he could scrape his teeth above the still ultra-sensitive skin.

Sam moaned louder; the stimulation of the area making his cock hard and the tip glisten with precome. His hands desperately clutched at the short blond hair.

"Dean…" Sam whined pleadingly.

The blond's response was to grab Sam's ass and squeeze it, his middle finger sliding through the crack. Sam bucked against the finger, desperate to have it deep inside him, wanting to be fucked right now.

"Greedy aren't we?" Dean teased as he circled Sam's opening with his finger. "Don't worry, Sammy," the name rolled off his tongue like honey, "your big brother will take care of you."

Sam growled as he felt the finger penetrate him, the slight burning only adding to his arousal. He licked his dry lips and whispered heatedly, "fuck me…big brother."

He knew what effect that would have on Dean. As predicted, the blond glued his body against his and hissed dangerously on his ear as he immediately added a second finger, stretching him.

"Is that what you want, little brother?" Dean asked, catching one nipple in his mouth and playing with it; biting, licking and sucking.

"You know…it isn't," answered Sam in between gasps, his hands tightening on the blond hair.

"Oh…that's right," the older one chuckled, his hot breath against the tiny nub. He looked up, licking one part of the intricate drawing. "You want my cock inside your tight little ass, is that it?"

Sam's cock pulsed and he grabbed Dean's hair harder, kissing him fiercely. "Stop teasing me, you jerk," he growled against those luscious lips.

As soon as those words left his mouth, Dean stepped back from him abruptly making Sam feel hollow and even more desperate. He was about to curse his brother until the next generation when saw the little show he was receiving. His hands grasped his own cock in an attempt to stop himself from coming too soon.

Dean slowly eased his zipper sensuously, letting his jeans fall to the carpet. Sam moaned harshly when he saw his brother was wearing nothing underneath. The blond slid a hand over his perfect chest and abs, toying with his own cock, already hard and flushed. His green eyes, almost black with desire, stared at his little brother and his voice came out husky and commanding:

"On the bed. On your knees. Now."

Sam complied as quickly as he could, his breath coming in short pants as his body trembled non-stop. He felt his brother climb the bed and stay behind him, then fingers grabbed him by the waist. Without any kindness and in one single stroke, he was suddenly filled completely. Sam bit the pillow underneath him to muffle his scream. It hurt like hell when Dean entered him like that, but it was so fucking good. His hands tightened around the well-worn sheets and he panted before demanding:

"Move, jerk."

"Oh, I will bitch," Dean whispered into his ear, sending tingling sensations all over his body. He slid out almost all the way just to enter again forcefully, really intending to fuck Sam's seven days to Sunday.

Not that the brunet was complaining of course. Not at all. He released his mouth from the pillow and decided to forget all about the neighbors and scream all he wanted. He was always kind of loud in bed anyway; now everyone would know. His right hand started to stroke his dick in time with the frantic pace, and he knew that if it continued he wouldn't last five minutes. However it felt so fucking good that he didn't want to last…

"Turn around," Dean ordered suddenly, slowing down his movements.

As the blond slide out of his brother Sam was ready to beat the crap out of him. He turned around, frustrated and ready to scream when he saw the raw need in Dean's eyes, and the way his erection was hard and glistening, just waiting for him to…

"I wanna see it," Dean's voice sent a shudder through his body, making his cock twitch.

He knew what his brother was talking about, and if he was honest with himself, he wanted to see too. He climbed onto his brother's lap, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him fiercely. He felt Dean's hands on his hips and his cock nudge at his entrance. Sam's body sank down and he hissed into the kiss as his body trembled in pleasure. Without any sort of warning, Sam started to move up and down. He worked himself on his brother's cock as he ended the kiss and looked at Dean, his dark eyes glazed in ecstasy.

Dean licked his lips and his left hand slid up until it reached the tattoo, scratching the drawing with his short nails. Sam screamed and his dick twitched, his balls tightening. It was too much sensation.

"Dean..."

"Come, Sammy. I wanna see you come just with my cock," Dean growled, passing his nails over the drawing again.

Sam grabbed his brother's shoulders, using them as leverage as he moved faster and harder. The position forced the head of Dean's cock to rub against his prostate every single time. Sam's right hand slid over his brother's skin, scratching the matching tattoo on his chest as well. Dean buried his face in Sam's neck, biting, licking, growling in his ear.

By the end of it they were clawing at each other like animals, scratching their nails at every surface of skin available. Especially on the intricate twin tattoos. Sam screamed and moaned like the bitch Dean always accused him of being, but he couldn't care less. His balls tightened one more time before his orgasm exploded and he felt Dean follow shortly after him, the hot spurts of semen splashing onto his thighs and across their stomachs.

Dean laid down on the bed and Sam followed him in exhaustion. After they kissed and licked each other lips, they passed out.

The weekend was just beginning after all.

--

"Oh, shit."

Bobby thinned his lips as he looked again and again in his book. When Dean and Sam had asked for an effective way of stopping the possessions of demons for good, he gave them the drawing from memory.

But now as he looked at his books, he realized he'd made a little miscalculation. The drawing stopped the possessions alright, but it was a spell for soul bonding at the same time.

Bobby hoped it wasn't too late to warn the boys. The old hunter grumbled to himself as he cursed his damn memory, and went to his phone to make a little call.

The End