Archive of Our Own

Libraries are too quiet for Dean's tastes. Too quiet and too boring; too slow moving and just plain dull. The incessant tap tap tap of fingers hitting keyboards does something to his nerves, and the whirring of copying machines doesn't help, either. He does like reading though, books old and musty, ones you have to crack open carefully because these people can't appreciate a good read about repelling demons if it bit them in the ass. Yeah, he likes books, but he likes a certain librarian even better.

A librarian with long hair and legs for days. Shoulders so broad his sweater can't hide them and the best looking arms Dean has ever seen wrapped in purple woven cotton. Sam, the librarian had said his name was when he was signing up Dean for a library card a week ago and Dean has come back everyday since.

Not like Dean is desperate or anything. Sam was good looking (damn good looking), but Dean also has a job to do and this was the only library in the Kentuckiana area with this many books on demonology, unused as they were. And this one particular book on the top shelf that Dean can't quite reach is of course the one he needs. Looking around and making sure no one was watching, hell if anyone was even on the third floor of the library, Deans stands up on his tip toes and stretches out his arm to retrieve the book.

A body presses up behind him, making Dean jump and swear, but the person doesn't move, just leans in closer, practically draped over Dean's back, and grabs the book off of the shelf.

"Sorry," Sam says when Dean turns around, though he doesn't look all that apologetic. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Dean takes the book from the librarian's hands, but he can't really go anywhere. There's bookshelves behind him and Sam in front, too big and too close, and damn, smelling really good. At over six feet tall and nearly 200 pounds, Dean can say that no one has ever made him feel small, but hell if Sam isn't doing a good job of it right now. And he's just standing there, smirking, like he knows everthing that Dean is thinking.

Dean clears his throat and leans back. "No, you just -- I didn't think anyone else was up here."

"There's some people over there," Sam tells him, motioning with his head, "but no one ever comes to this corner."

Dean nods his head and holds the book up. "Alright, thanks."

He takes a step to the side, but Sam is right there with him. "Do you need help with anything else?" he asks, voice low and eyes twinkling, and this time Dean is really up against the bookcase, back flush against the books, Sam against his chest, and Dean wasn't planning on getting laid today, but if a hot librarian wants to fuck between bookshelves, then hey, why not.

"I tend to confuse reality with porn sometimes," Dean says with a small laugh. "So how about you tell me what this is."

Sam grips the shelves on either side of Dean's head and leans in closer, lets his mouth drifts over Dean's and Dean can feel the soft brush of his lips when he speaks. "This is me wanting to fuck you, Dean." And wow, that escalated quickly. He rolls his body and Dean can feel every inch of Sam pressed against him. "I have ever since you first came in here."

Dean fists Sam's sweater and pulls him forward, pressing his lips against Sam's, parting them and meeting Sam's tongue with his own. Sam's hands cup Dean's jaw and they're so big, covers Dean's cheeks in just his palms, and that really shouldn't turn Dean on as much as it does.

Sam pulls back and smiles, and damn if he doesn't look dangerous, feral and frightening like he wants to eat Dean up where he stands. "I've fucking dreamed about this," Sam growls, a longing in his voice that sounds like he's waited forever. He walks Dean backwards towards the end of the aisle, both hands working to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans.

Dean jerks to a stop when his thighs hit a table and Sam pushes him back to lay on it. He pulls Dean's boots of without even unlacing them, his jeans and briefs quickly following. Dean is hard already, arching against Sam when he bends down to kiss his lips again, the rough denim of Sam's pants rubbing against his cock and fuck Dean doesn't think he's ever been so turned on in is life.

Sam kisses the corner of Dean's mouth, then his cheek, the hinge of his jaw, and then right below his ear. Two of Sam's fingers find Dean's lips and he slides them in, and pulls them back out, pushes them back in again and fucks Dean's mouth with them. "Get them wet for me, Dean," Sam says. "Get them wet so I can stretch you out."

Dean moans and squirms beneath Sam, sucking his fingers like his life depended on it and maybe it does, because he feels like if Sam doesn't fuck him soon, he may just die. Sam pulls his fingers out of Dean's mouth and works them into his ass, both at the same time. He twists and bends them, fucks them in and out of Dean's hole until Dean is a puddle beneath him, begging and so damn beautiful.

"Dean, fucking Dean," Sam says like he can't quite believe that that's who he has beneath him. "I'm going to fuck you until you want to scream."

Sam unbuckles his belt and pulls the waist down just enough so that he can free his cock and gives it a few slow strokes. He looks down at Dean splayed on the table beneath him, legs spread and ass waiting on the edge, pretty pink mouth slack and wet, eyes closed and chest heaving, and Sam just wants to devour him.

He rubs the tip of his cock against Dean, from balls to ass, until Dean is bucking up to meet him, then slowly sinks inside of him. Dean almost comes off of the table, head thrown back and hands clawing at Sam's back. Sam grips Dean's hips and buries his face in Dean's neck, draws back out and pushes in again, wrecks them both with his hard and deep thrusts, and Sam ravages Dean's throat like he's starving for it. "Dean," he moans between bites, "you feel like fucking heaven."

He moves one hand to wrap around Dean's cock and Dean cries out, arching up and into Sam's palm, bucking up while Sam fucks into him. "Sssh, Dean," Sam growls into his neck. "You gotta be quiet for me. Be good for me, Dean. Fuck. So good. Fuck!"

Sam throws his head back and looks down at Dean, eyes all black and face twisted into a snarl. Dean jerks up and tries to come off the table, but Sam put his free hand on his chest and slams him back down. "What, Dean? What, you want me to stop?" His dick is umoving in Dean's hole, but his palm is still stroking the man's cock. "I was here months before you walked your pretty little ass through that door and I'll be damned if you're getting rid of me that easy."

Sam twists a little on the upstroke and Dean stifles a moan, bites his lip and turns his head away so he doesn't have to look at the demon. Sam grabs his jaw and forces his face forward again. "Tell me to stop. Say it, Dean! Say you aren't getting off being fucked by a demon."

Sam's breathing hard, chest heaving, the muscles in his arm bunching as he continue to jerk Dean off and Dean wants to be sick because he loves it so much. The one thing that's ever gotten the best of him is this fucking demon librarian and it's the hottest thing in the world, being so overpowered and helpless.

"Please," Dean manages to get out. "Don't stop." And that's what Sam needs before he begins pounding into him again. He moves Dean's shirts up and pinches his nipple, rolling it around with his fingertips and pulling, and that's all it takes. With a muffled cry, Dean comes, Sam's hand on his dick, guiding him so he spills all over his own stomach.

Sam lets go of Dean's cock and grabs him by his shoulders and really starts fucking him, lifting his knee and setting it on the table so he can go deeper. Sam yanks Dean back every time his thrusts push him away until it's just a shallow tug and pull, Sam barely sliding out of Dean before slamming back in again.

Sam's hair is tussled and wild, eyes a haunting, hungry black. His teeth are gnashed together and deadly, his fingers digging into Dean's shoulders like claws. "Dean," he growls, almost breathless, bewildered, as he pulls out of the man. "Fucking Dean Winchester."

Sam gives his cock a couple shirt strokes before coming on Dean's stomach, catching himself with his other hand on the table beside Dean's hip and letting his head fall forward, hair hiding his face from Dean's sight. He stays like that for a few moments, just breathing, before slowly looking back up at Dean. The man can see the color in Sam's eyes fading in again, the darkness going back inside in the demon until it's gone completely.

Sam snaps his head back down like he's ashamed of what's happening, and without saying anything, he takes his hand off of his spent cock and rubs it across Dean's stomach, mixing their come together and bringing it to his lips. He sucks the come off of two fingers, closes his eyes and sighs around them as if it's the best thing he's ever tasted. Sam looks back down at Dean still spread out on the library table and can't say anything, can't do anything at all, so he just tucks himself in and zips his pants back up before disappearing between the bookcases.