Title: Shuck It
Word count: 3,316
Notes: I swear I’ve been trying to focus on other things, but pecanpiedean just had to mention it and if you know me and my love for bizarre insertion, well I’d say this was inevitable. AU, D/s, Dean gets fucked with an ear of corn.
The rain pelting down on the nylon dome of the tent, while astoundingly loud, was not enough to drown out Dean’s desperate whimpers and groans. Head buried in his folded arms, his breath was warm in the little pocket between his face and the air mattress that dipped under his weight. Shifting his knees, the ground hard through the thin bottom of the tent and tarp liner, he ground his hips against the soft cotton blanket stretched across the top of the mattress. Kneeling at the foot of the mattress with his torso draped over it, Dean listened to the rain and bit his lip to keep his begging at bay.
Cain was a fucking asshole. He had this down to an art. He knew just how to string Dean along with enough to keep him on edge and begging for more. Dean’s limbs were loose and his head was light from the few beers they’d had by the campfire before the rain forced them to lash down tarps and take cover in the tent. It was the middle of fucking August, muggy and scorching hot, and it had not rained for almost a full month. But now, as soon as they’d packed up and taken off for some quality alone time in the woods, now there was a deluge.
One broad warm hand rubbed circles over his hips. Soothing. Rhythmic. Drag of callouses light and blunt finger nails lighter. Three turns in one direction, three turns in the other. It was as steady and gentle as the press of three fingers inside him. Which is to say, it was driving Dean crazy because he needed more. He needed it harder, rougher, wanted Cain to raise his hand and smack down with a crack to rival the thunderclaps that had passed. Wanted those fingers to dig in bruisingly to his hips. Wanted Cain to fuck up in to his body so deep Dean’d be seeping come through tomorrow morning.
Instead, what he got was a gentle petting and fingers he knew were more skilled stroking inside him skimming around his prostate.
Groaning, hands clenching in the blankets, Dean pushed back onto Cain’s hand and ground forward against the less than satisfying air mattress. Rising up on his hands, he glared behind him. Cain was settled comfortably cross legged and looking like he was just enjoying the view. Their bags had been shoved and piled to the side, and goddamit, they were touching the tent walls and would get all wet from wicking the rain in. Dean could not give less of a shit about that though.
Doing his best to sound menacing, Dean growled, “I swear to God if you don’t pick up the pace I will do the job my –ah – self …”
So he probably lost credibility when Cain crooked his fingers down and clamped a hand on Dean’s hip to pull him back. Fuck. Dean slumped forward again, legs trembling, body flushed hot and everything aching with want.
“No. You won’t.”