|Sam Winchester (bitch____) wrote,|
@ 2008-07-18 04:01:00
|Entry tags:||dean winchester, max guevara, sam winchester|
The way that you stare, it starts a fire in me ( Sam/Max fic ... and some Dean at the end )
[ You wanted smut! This is as smutty as I write on my own. I tried to think of a clever way to interrupt it all before it got to the pornographic stage. ;x Or ... too bad. Clearly I didn't go into graphic detail about certain parts of the anatomy and what happens when a male and a female get aroused, but you're a big girl. You can fill in the gaps there. Also, I liked writing for Max in this context because this is just a dream. Just like the time he -cringe- fantasized about Bela, Max probably wouldn't act this way. Tis the beauty of it being all in Sam's head. Sorry if it isn't detailed enough for you. If you're really dissatisfied or unhappy with it, I can always go back and add a little more later. But it's been a long day, and it's almost 4 AM, so I'm calling it a night. Though I did say I'd write something, so voila! Enjoy. ]
A small crease formed across his brow when he heard the knock. Dean wouldn't have bothered, and Bobby probably would've just walked in too. Who else could it be? Curiously, Sam stood and made his way over to the door, before clutching the knob and giving it a twist. Once he saw who was on the other side, a look of mild disbelief swept across his face. "Max?" How had she known where to find him? Sure, he'd left her his number incase of emergency ( although he doubted there was anything she couldn't handle ), but he'd honestly never expected to hear from her again - much less see her again. Not that it wasn't a pleasant surprise, just really unexpected. 'Cause even if she did need to see him about something, coming to his hotel room instead of setting a place to meet didn't seem like her style.
"What are you doing here?" He finally managed to ask. And why had she gotten all dressed up just to come talk to him? She was wearing her signature color ( other than black ): red. The style was similar to that of the gown she'd worn the last time their paths coincidentally crossed, only it was shorter - a lot shorter. Distractingly so, but he soon remembered his manners and stepped out of the way so she could enter. "I mean, uh, what can I do for you?" That didn't sound any better. Phrasing it like that made it sound dirty ... or maybe that was just his mind in the gutter. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" He frowned. Not very flattering, but that seemed to primarily be their common ground, so it was a natural assumption to make.
Max mockingly shot Sam an offended look as she slid past him. Once she was a few paces in, she twirled around to face him with her arms loosely folded in front of her. "So that's what you really think of me? Good to know you have such a high opinion of me. Since I'm here, there must be trouble. Is that it?" Despite how she was making it seem, she wasn't upset. Wherever she went, trouble usually wasn't that far behind. It wasn't an insult: just a simple fact. One she'd gotten accustomed to a long time ago, and apparently Sam had become privy to it himself. He was a smart cookie, this one.
"No, that's not it at all. I didn't mean it like that, I swear." He fumbled over his words, but that didn't stop him from trying to explain.
She could tell 'College Boy' was getting all worked up over nothing, so she cut him off before he could get started. She hadn't come here to talk, especially when that conversation was based on a misunderstanding. "Relax. It was a joke. You really shouldn't take everything so seriously." She canted her head to the side, the action causing a stray curl to lightly bounce, then fall into her face. In answer to his question ... she needed him, alright. But not in the way he was thinking. "Remember when I asked you why you care about what happens to me?" His response had been 'it's just the way I am.' Well, she had her own theory, and she was here to put it to the test.
Of course he remembered, but he still had no idea where all this was going. Sam nodded though to confirm his recollection of it.
"I figured it out." She took a couple steps forward, bringing them closer together, before she seductively stared up at him. "You find me irresistible." She watched as he tried to play it off, but he wasn't anywhere near successful at it. She knew she had him pegged when he started to blush. So cute, and such a gentleman, but he was also a man. Which meant if she was right ( and she most certainly was ), he wouldn't be able to turn her away. So basically, she was his for the taking. See? Easy enough. Harmless, actually. Even fun. Now if only he'd take advantage of the situation. After all, Max was no streetwalker. She was extremely selective about who she opened herself up to.
"Don't fight it, Sam. I want you to. I want you." The words were whispered in his ear after she'd leaned forward, playfully brushing her cheek across his to encourage the mood. Although incase he had any lingering doubts, she'd draw back just enough to capture his lips with her own. Couldn't get any clearer than that. So come, already. A girl could be waiting here forever.
Truth is, Sam had tried to deny it. Not so much in words, but by a dismissive shake of his head, or by adverting his gaze elsewhere. But obviously he hadn't been very convincing at either, because she'd seen right through him. She knew he was lusting after her, and as ashamed as he was to admit it, he couldn't fight his attraction to her any longer. 'Are you sure?' was on the tip of his tongue, but the question was easily forgotten. It was a little hard to focus when he was being seduced. Right now, there was only one thing on his mind.
When she started to pull away, Sam shot out an arm to keep her from putting any distance between them, and after taking a deep breath, pressed his lips firmly against hers. This time he was initiating the kiss. Also around this time, he snaked one hand around to rest on the small of her back, while the other lifted to settle at the nape of her neck. He continued to hold her close, but not forcefully. In fact, Max seemed to be going at it at a more rapid pace. She was already tugging at the hem of his shirt, demanding the garment be removed. A break was taken for her to briskly pull it up and over his head then carelessly toss it aside, before they went tumbling towards the bed. At first, she was the one on top, straddling him with one leg on each side, pinning him down. Max seemed quite comfortable being the dominatrix. She planted a trail of kisses all the way down his chest, before she came back up to nibble gently on his ear. Every now and again, she'd bite down a little harder than he was used to, but he barely noticed. He was completely consumed by the moment.
While she was transfixed on his upper region ( for the time being, anyway ), Sam took greater pleasure in letting his masculine touch roam across her thighs. He'd started at her arms; then he let his hands slide continuously downward until they'd slid up beneath the material of her dress. Her movement alone had caused it to ride up on its own, but he pushed it up even higher. Their bodies were now entirely pressed together, and it was easy to feel the heat. The passion was undeniable. This had gone beyond some sensual desire to be wanted or needed by someone. This was about wanting each other, and only each other - at least for Sam. He was a one girl at a time kind of guy. Chances were, he would fall for Max harder than she'd fall for him ( pardon the pun ... ), but he didn't care. He was ready to go all the way, and she didn't appear to have any objections.
They switched positions, him taking top, her taking bottom. But before the transition was made, he removed her dress and discarded it, leaving a whole new realm of unexplored flawless skin exposed. Max was skimpily clad in nothing but a set of matching black lingerie, and 'Wonder Woman' ( yes, he was renaming her now ) had gone to fiddling with the zipper of his jeans. Just seconds later, his pants were undone, and right as they were being removed-
SLAM! The loud sound jolted Sam awake and caused him to bolt upright in his chair. At some point, he must've fallen asleep at his computer. Dean had gone out to pick up something to eat, and apparently he was back - and staring. Why was he staring at him like that?! There was no way he could know what the dream had been about ... right? 'Cause if his brother ever did find out, he wouldn't let it go. He'd use it every chance he got to embarrass him. But uh, unfortunately, eyes open or closed, he hadn't gotten rid of the stiffener that'd resulted from such an intense dream yet. So he had to either keep himself hidden under the table as much as possible or figure out a way to bolt to the bathroom without Dean catching an eyeful of ... things he didn't need to be seeing. Tough decision, but after giving it a lot of thought, he opted for the latter.
"I, um ... uh ... I'm gonna take a shower." Smooth. Real smooth. But there was no set time to take a bath. He was just choosing to do it now, is all. So no excuse should have been necessary, but of course Dean had to make things difficult and comment about the odd timing: like why Sam had waited until he got back with the food to decide to hop in the scrub-a-tub.
What Sam didn't know was that Dean had done a little eavesdropping before he'd slammed the door. Definite happy noises, which meant ... well, it didn't take a genius to figure it out. And this sudden impulse to take a shower? So obvious. But he had to hassle the guy a little. 'Cause come on, the opportunity didn't come around very often. If Sammy wasn't getting any in real life, at least he was getting some in his sleep. Which was actually kind of sad. Who was this chick: the woman of his brother's dreams? ( Ha, literally. ) It was probably someone Sam knew, because Dean didn't figure him to be the type to make up random girls to screw. Maybe though. Who knows? Well, he would, because he'd ask. Not yet though, because that bashful basketcase of a brother of his had already scrambled for the bathroom, made it inside, and locked the door.
With a low chuckle, Dean strode over and propped himself up against the doorframe. When he spoke, his voice was raised so the one on the other side could plainly hear him. "Just make sure it's a cold one." He hadn't been able to resist. What?! What else were brother's for?