Summary: Sam has some fun with his developing powers.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by WB and Eric Kripke et al. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta. This is 24 out of 31 short fics, all involving masturbation in honour of the Merry Month of May. All fics were written with knowledge up to Hell House, no canon after that was used since that's as far as I've seen.
Word count: 1,799
Link: to other mmom fic
"Sam, do you have to do that now?" Dean was in a whiny ass mood and Sam did not appreciate being the target of his brother's sulk.
He glared at Dean and then went back to what he had been doing. It was not as if he had asked to be telekinetic, he had been quite happy to write the whole Max thing off as a fluke, but ever since he'd been momentarily possessed on their last hunt things kept happening around him. Even Dean had had to admit that he needed to practice and figure out how the whole thing worked, which was why he was painstakingly moving a penny from one side of the table to the other and back again via some homemade obstacles. He'd tried a few other things, but this seemed the best way to really feel things out.
"Creepy, just plain creepy," Dean whispered loud enough for Sam to hear him.
That was it, Sam had had enough; Dean had been bitching all afternoon. It wasn't Sam's fault that there was a severe weather warning in effect and the roads were closed, and he wasn't taking anymore of Dean's shit. He turned and calculated his revenge in a heartbeat.
Dean was standing at the end of the second bed looking far more like a petulant five year old than a big bad hunter of all things supernatural. Sam concentrated on the bed and moved it forward a couple of feet, ramming it into the back of his brother's knees and sending Dean sprawling on top of it. Before Dean could recover Sam flipped the decorative coverlet from his bed onto his brother and pinned him to the bed with it. Dean struggled for a few seconds and then gave up with a growl.
"Not funny, Sam," Dean said in a warning tone.
"Neither's being called creepy, Dean," Sam responded in kind finding that it was far easier to keep his mind on the task of holding Dean down than he had imagined.
It wasn't as if he was really using the coverlet, although as he thought about it he realised that he had needed a mental aid to begin with. This was actually turning out to be more instructive than he had first thought when he had instigated his revenge.
"When I get out of this I'm going to kick your ass, Sammy," Dean sounded really annoyed, but Sam wasn't paying him much attention anyway.
Standing up, he walked to the edge of the bed and took hold of the corner of the coverlet and pulled. It came off in one motion and Dean went to lunge at him only to find that he still couldn't move. It was all about mental attitude and Sam was beginning to see that maybe he could get the hang of this faster than he had thought.
"Sam, let me go," Dean was becoming increasingly agitated, but Sam was too busy examining the experience in his mind to pay attention.
He was creating a wall of force holding Dean down and it was really quite easy.
He glared at Dean and then went back to thinking. There was silence for a good few moments.
"Sam, you're not going all Carrie on my ass, are you?"
It was the sound of real worry that snapped Sam out of his ruminations.
"What? No," he said as he saw the anxiety in his brother's features, "don't be ridiculous. I'm just trying something here so shut up for a minute."
"Sam, I am not your personal play toy," Dean was back to annoyed, "now let me go and I might bury your remains in holy ground rather than leaving them to rot right here."
Sam just smiled at his brother; when Dean made it to threats of bodily harm the crisis was over. Seeing his kick ass brother sprawled helpless on the bed was amusing and Sam couldn't help enjoying it. The only other times Dean was ever sprawled like that was in the afterglow and it has been a while since they'd indulged in anything that led to that either. Everything came together in Sam's head at once; what Dean had said, what he had been thinking, like an epiphany, and he felt his smile turn into a full fledged grin. Dean looked worried again.
"Are you absolutely sure you're not my personal play toy?" Sam asked, sitting down on the other bed and leaning back on his elbows.
Dean opened his mouth to reply and was beaten to it by the sound of a zipper. The look of shock on Dean's face was a picture as he looked down at his fly where Sam had just undone it.
"Sam," Dean's tone was somewhere between a warning and curiosity this time.
"I need to practice, Dean," Sam said, letting a small smile play at his lips, "and I think I know a way you might enjoy."
He let his mind wander in a far more literal way than he had ever been able to before and it was almost as if he could feel himself touching Dean. He wrapped a mental hand round his brother's cock and slowly drew it from the confines of Dean's jeans, all the while looking at Dean for any signs that he was going too far. One thing he did not want to do was alienate his brother and, although he was enjoying the game, he was quite willing to stop if Dean freaked out. As it was Dean wasn't struggling anymore and his head fell back onto the bed as he moaned.
"This better?" Sam asked, wanting to make very sure because there was no way he was going to wreck their relationship over something this trivial.
"Stop and I really will kill you," Dean said without opening his eyes.
Sam grinned and set his mind to his task. He kept a little pressure on most of Dean's body since now that the game had gone from wrestling to sex Dean seemed to be enjoying the restriction on his movements, but most of his focus was on Dean's groin. He let himself concentrate on what he intended to do without the slightest distraction of anything else. It felt a little weird as his awareness of self dropped and his awareness of Dean increased.
He did not exactly visualise a mental hand, more like a mental glove; a Dean shaped glove that he slipped over Dean's cock and balls in a long sweep. The resulting moan from Dean was encouragement enough, but the distant tingle of something that Sam felt as he did it drew him on as well.
The fun thing about using his mind was that Sam could change what he was doing with simply a thought and he began to experiment with the glove idea, changing bits of it or removing them completely as he moved it over Dean. Pressure here, a light touch there and Dean was writhing and panting and almost begging, which was something Dean never did, even when he was desperate.
With each mental projection Sam felt himself becoming more and more in tune with Dean and what made Dean feel good. His awareness of self was dimming more and more as he concentrated on his brother and he did not care. Each moment was an experience of and in itself and Sam lived in each of them with gleeful abandon.
It was an incredible feeling; Sam felt as if he was almost aware of what Dean was thinking and he knew he was feeling at least part of what his brother was experiencing. It was scary and wonderful all at the same time and Sam couldn't have stopped it now if his life depended on it.
All he could see, smell, feel, taste, hear and sense was Dean and his mind moved over his brother in a steady rhythm. He was no longer completely aware of how he was doing this, but he was fully concentrated on his task. As Dean moaned and tried to buck off the bed Sam held him down and played with his straining cock. He could have held him on the edge for hours, knowing exactly when to increase the pressure and when to ease off as if it was his own body he was playing not Dean's, but he needed this to be complete as much as Dean now.
With total abandon he pushed Dean on, wrapping his mind firmly around his brother's body and touching him just so. In seconds Dean was calling his name and arching off the bed as Sam finally released his hold. It was amazing as Sam felt the echo of an orgasm that was not his own bouncing around his body and he could do nothing as the sensations pushed him over an edge on which he had not been aware he was standing.
His mind snapped back to complete awareness of himself and only himself in an instant and it was too much for his over taxed system. As his own orgasm ripped through him with the force of a small hurricane he passed out with a small sigh of surprise.
There was a palm slowly patting his cheek.
"Come one, Sam, time to wake up."
Sam was not sure he wanted to, but the palm was very insistent and he opened his eyes to see Dean leaning over him. The past few minutes all flooded back into his brain in a moment and he found himself gasping in shock. He had been so wrapped up in what he had been doing that the magnitude of it had been completely irrelevant, but now it hit him full on and he panicked.
"Sam, dude, it's okay," Dean's calm words brought him back from the edge and Sam looked into his brother's eyes, trying to find an anchor.
"Dean," he said rather stupidly.
"Okay, Sam?" Dean asked as Sam did his best to find his equilibrium.
He nodded even though he didn't feel quite with it.
"Man, when you develop freaky powers you get the really weird ones," Dean's tone had changed to his usual irreverent one, "I haven't felt anything like that since that succubus almost ate me in Boston. Any time you feel like practicing I'm your man."
For one second Sam felt like socking his brother hard for calling him weird and freaky and then he caught up with what had actually been said. Rather than hysteria a laugh bubbled out of his chest and he remembered why he loved Dean; it was impossible to disappear up the river of despair with his brother around.
"Yeah, Dean," he said, wondering how far left of normal this actually made him, "I'll remember that."