Author's Note: Wow, I am so bad at consistently writing and I do apologize. I actually started this smut several (six or seven) months ago, but it's my friend's birthday tomorrow, so I decided to finish it and dedicate it to her! Much love to you, Guin-o-weave! Anyway, enjoy another (one of probably many more) DeanxBenny in Purgatory with top!Benny. I just really like them doing the do in Purgatory. Thanks for sticking with me!
Hard.
Fast.
Gasping breath.
Sweat-slicked bodies.
Move.
Always keep moving.
Branches tore at Dean's clothes as he whipped through the trees, biting the exposed skin of his face and neck, drawing blood, nicking stinging scratches on his hands. His heart pounded in his throat, beating in time with his footsteps. He could hear his heart, hear his blood, hear the crunch of leaves and twigs and probably bones under his feet, hear the muffled grunts of his pursuers. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, pushing him to go faster, faster. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, drawing comfort from the figure matching his pace beside him. Benny was going to tell him when.
They ran on, lungs burning, muscles aching. Dean's grip never left his blade. He was ready. Then he heard it.
"Now."
Dean flung himself around his left shoulder, drawing his blade as he did. This could not fail. The blade he had won swung through the air, in line with its target. It sliced through the vampire's neck swiftly. Every moment seemed to freeze as dean whipped back around Benny who was circling around him and racing back to meet the other vampire. Dean felt the spatter of blood strike his cheek, heard the thumps of the head then the corpse of the vampire as they hit the ground. That vampire didn't matter. As long as Benny survived, Dean could get out of there.
Dean kept running. Benny would take care of the other vampire. That was the plan. He heard a shrill cry from behind him, then silence broken only by heavy breathing.
Dean slowed. He turned back to Benny and the two dead vampires and jogged towards him. He saw how dark Benny's eyes were. Dean stopped in his tracks. "All right, Benny?" he asked warily, tightening his grip on his blade. He didn't want to hurt Benny, but if Benny went all psycho vampire on him…
Benny's chest was heaving as he advanced towards Dean. Dean stood his ground, observing Benny cautiously, keeping his eyes on the approaching vampire. If Benny tried anything, Dean would strike back.
Dean saw just the tips of Benny's fangs begin to poke out from behind his lips. "Benny," Dean warned, raising his blade ever so slightly, matching the threat of Benny's fangs with the angle of his weapon.
Benny took another step, fangs extending with every pace. "Dean," Benny said, just as dangerously.
"What's going on, Benny? Was this your plan all along? Trap me in a corner and drain me? I think I have enough trust issues without being tricked by a dead vampire," Dean snapped, raising his blade fully. "To hell with this silent treatment crap," Dean barked when Benny did not respond. "I've been through enough in this shithole without losing my only ally."
Then Dean was against a tree, his blade several feet away on the ground, and Benny's fangs were a breath away from Dean's grubby neck. "Your primal side awakens something in me, Dean," Benny drawled.
Dean's breath caught in his throat. Fear was dulled by a spark of arousal that buzzed through him. Dean felt Benny's breath on his skin, the almost scrape of the tips of Benny's fangs on the sensitive flesh. And he was suddenly, totally, entirely hard.
Dean's dick pressed insistently on the front of his pants. He breathed deeply, trying to calm down. Dean had not been this close to anyone in a long time. He wasn't sure how long he had been stuck in Purgatory, but his dick was responding to Benny's closeness in a manner that convinced him it had been weeks, maybe months, probably years. All he knew was that he needed Benny's hands, Benny's mouth, Benny's dick.
Dean knew he was flushed, embarrassed by his own desperation. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Benny to back off, to save Dean from humiliation if Benny were to take just one more step. Any closer and the pair would be chest to chest pressed together, Dean's dick squeezed against Benny's thigh, and there would be no explaining it away.
But Dean found he could not speak, could not utter a single coherent syllable because Benny's tongue had found one of the scratches on Dean's neck. Dean tensed, aroused but terrified. What happened to humans who died in Purgatory? Dean sure as hell did not want to get stuck there, or worse go back to human Hell.
Benny did not bite him. He lapped at the dried blood on Dean's neck, the smudges of dirt, the sweat.
Dean held his breath, not trusting himself not to cry out. He was desperate for more of Benny's touch, everywhere. Dean trembled against the trunk of the tree. He could not remember a time when he had ever felt this good. Sure, he had had a few good lovers in his time: Lisa with her nimble fingers and lithe body, Mark and his hot, little mouth and tight ass, Dean's own hands the first time he allowed himself to jerk off thinking of Cas, but Benny's tongue on his neck was unbearably good.
Unknowingly, Dean's hand had crept to his dick and was squeezing it through his pants. Dean let out his breath in a hiss as he felt the pressure on his dick.
Benny chuckled against his skin. "Not so fast, pretty boy." He pinned one of Dean's arms above his head and grabbed the impatient hand, lifting it to his mouth. Benny licked the length of each digit before taking in Dean's index finger and sucking hard. Benny let go of Dean's finger with an indecent slurp. "Get out of those clothes now, Dean," Benny said, releasing Dean's wrist. "Let me see what you've been hiding."
With fumbling fingers, Dean complied. He removed his jacket shakily and hung it neatly over a branch. Shrugging out of his flannel, he placed it on top of the jacket. He stood shivering slightly in a thin undershirt and grubby jeans. Dean pulled the shirt over his head.
Benny whistled softly. "Hunting does you good, Dean."
Dean unbuckled his belt and turned away as he slid his pants and under down, giving Benny a fine view of his ass. He glanced over his shoulder to see a truly lecherous grin spreading across Benny's face.
"Good boy."
And Benny was turning Dean around to face him, scraping Dean's back on the rough bark of the tree behind him. Benny pressed their hips together, grabbing at Dean's ass. Benny heard Dean's sharp intake of breath as Benny ground against him, felt the buck of Dean's hips. "Kick your pants off one leg, boy," Benny grunted, returning to Dean's neck with his tongue.
Benny had gotten him up against the tree so quickly, Dean had not noticed that his pants were still around his ankles. Every swipe of Benny's tongue on his skin made Dean gasp. He struggled to get a leg out of his pants, a task made more difficult by the fucking amazing friction of Dean's dick against Benny's pants. "You teasing son of a bitch," Dean groaned as he finally extricated his leg.
Benny laughed again and hiked Dean's newly freed leg up. Dean's dick throbbed between them, trapped and dripping.
"Fuck, Benny," Dean hissed as Benny took his hand and sucked on Dean's fingers once more.
"That's the idea, pretty boy," Benny said as he released Dean's fingers, now slick. "You know what to do with these, I reckon, but I'll help you out just in case."
The sound of Dean's shallow breathing filled the small clearing as Benny guided his hand to his ass. Benny worked Dean's finger inside himself, grinning at Dean's desperate groan. Benny undid his pants with one hand, careful not to touch Dean's dick, making sure to keep a steady pace with his other, moving Dean's fingers in and out. "Beg for it, pretty boy. Tell me how bad you want my hand on your dick, my dick where your fingers are," Benny said with a grunt as he slowly ground his hips into Dean's.
Dean let out a strangled sound when his dick slid against the skin of Benny's stomach where his shirt had ridden up. "Fuck you," Dean uttered through clenched teeth. He needed both of those and so much more, but Benny's roughness, his lack of caring, turned Dean on more than he could have ever imagined.
Benny's free arm pinned Dean to the tree by his neck. "Oh no, pretty boy. That's my job," Benny chided. "Beg."
Dean bit his lip hard enough to draw blood at the order. And everything changed.
Benny snarled, letting go of Dean's neck, releasing his dick from the confines of his pants, spitting on his palm, and wrapping his hand around both of them in the blink of an eye.
Dean cried out as hot, hard flesh slid against hot, hard flesh, bucking his hips into Benny's hand, trying to ride his fingers and thrust against Benny's dick at the same time. "Fuck, Benny-oh," Dean moaned, eyes snapping open as he felt a tongue lapping at the drop of blood on his lip.
Dean fell limp against the tree, finger slipping out of himself as he moaned again. He felt thicker fingers replace his and threw his head back as they curled up and made him see stars. The hand around their dicks sped up, everything slick and hot and messy. Dean was racing towards the edge, unable to control his cries, barely registering the softer grunts coming from Benny.
Lips closed around a nipple pebbled from cold and arousal and Dean was gone. "Shit-fuck, Benny, that's good-fuck, I'm-oh," Dean moaned, long and loud as he came in Benny's fist, against Benny's dick.
Dean shook, unable to stop as Benny kept his pace on Dean's dick, sliding his own out from his fist and into Dean with a cry that Dean did not hear as he screamed.
Hard.
Fast.
Gasping breath.
Sweat-slicked bodies.
Move.
Always keep moving.
Author's Note: So yeah, I didn't do the whole scene, but I think it's cool. Ah well. Happy birthday again to you, Guin-o-weave! I hope you enjoyed the smutty Denny again!
Love,
Gency