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blue_bells» Title: The other brothers
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Pairing(s)/Character(s): Michael/Adam/Lucifer
» Warnings: AU, incest
» Spoilers: None
» Summary: Brothers, huh? Adam didn’t think brothers usually kissed like that.
» Author's Notes: Originally written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
synnerxx as a twitfic request because she wanted the devil in leather on a motorcycle. Do want, can have.
Adam lurches into the waking world with his heart hammering in the violent swing from confusion to mild panic and, oh God, oh God what is –
He groans and fists a hand in the dark head of hair moving between his legs; tight lips, hot, wet and wickedly talented tongue sucking him down. Michael is bent over him on the bed, sheets pushed to the side, and Adam can see the stamp on his inner wrist when he draws Adam’s thighs further apart and – oh yeah, now he remembers.
The Roadhouse bar. Losing his brothers in the crowd.
Meeting Michael, their getting-to-know-you expedited by free drinks and Michael’s hand down the front of Adam’s pants as he pressed Adam to the shadows on the back walls.
Meeting Lucifer, Michael’s supposed brother, outside in the parking lot (“Can’t you see the resemblance?” Michael had asked with a wry smile and Adam couldn’t tell if he was joking). The platinum blond with the sweet ride, Adam had thought when he first saw Lucifer on that Harley, polished chrome still glistening wet with the late storm, and looking like an advertisement for an upper class men’s department in leather.
Brothers, huh? Adam didn’t think brothers usually kissed like that.
Shuddering under the slick pull of Michael’s mouth, Adam knows the moment Lucifer re-enters the bedroom by the cool, heady scent of his clothes. The tread of his boots approaches the bed and Adam remembers how easily his bare thighs had slid on those leather pants as he braced himself against the headboard because Lucifer apparently liked doing this with all his clothes on. Adam was just grateful the guy didn’t wear anything with zippers. Michael had caught Adam after he buckled forward at the end, drew Adam’s loose limbs around himself and crushed Adam onto his back, pushing the short breath from his lungs in a groan as Michael pressed in between his thighs.
Adam hopes it’s just exhaustion that makes his lower back feel like he’s sprained something. The bruises under his thighs and hips (and arms) will fade. Pushing the jacket off Lucifer’s shoulders for the second time, Adam leans up into the roughness of his mouth as Michael drags his latest release from him with a long, intense shiver, strong hands holding him to the bed.
They’ve been at this for three hours, he feels sore and strained, and he’s going to wear the dull burn in his muscles like a fucking medal once they finish.
He just hopes he doesn’t pass out again.
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Pairing(s)/Character(s): Michael/Adam/Lucifer
» Warnings: AU, incest
» Spoilers: None
» Summary: Brothers, huh? Adam didn’t think brothers usually kissed like that.
» Author's Notes: Originally written for
synnerxx as a twitfic request because she wanted the devil in leather on a motorcycle. Do want, can have.Adam lurches into the waking world with his heart hammering in the violent swing from confusion to mild panic and, oh God, oh God what is –
He groans and fists a hand in the dark head of hair moving between his legs; tight lips, hot, wet and wickedly talented tongue sucking him down. Michael is bent over him on the bed, sheets pushed to the side, and Adam can see the stamp on his inner wrist when he draws Adam’s thighs further apart and – oh yeah, now he remembers.
The Roadhouse bar. Losing his brothers in the crowd.
Meeting Michael, their getting-to-know-you expedited by free drinks and Michael’s hand down the front of Adam’s pants as he pressed Adam to the shadows on the back walls.
Meeting Lucifer, Michael’s supposed brother, outside in the parking lot (“Can’t you see the resemblance?” Michael had asked with a wry smile and Adam couldn’t tell if he was joking). The platinum blond with the sweet ride, Adam had thought when he first saw Lucifer on that Harley, polished chrome still glistening wet with the late storm, and looking like an advertisement for an upper class men’s department in leather.
Brothers, huh? Adam didn’t think brothers usually kissed like that.
Shuddering under the slick pull of Michael’s mouth, Adam knows the moment Lucifer re-enters the bedroom by the cool, heady scent of his clothes. The tread of his boots approaches the bed and Adam remembers how easily his bare thighs had slid on those leather pants as he braced himself against the headboard because Lucifer apparently liked doing this with all his clothes on. Adam was just grateful the guy didn’t wear anything with zippers. Michael had caught Adam after he buckled forward at the end, drew Adam’s loose limbs around himself and crushed Adam onto his back, pushing the short breath from his lungs in a groan as Michael pressed in between his thighs.
Adam hopes it’s just exhaustion that makes his lower back feel like he’s sprained something. The bruises under his thighs and hips (and arms) will fade. Pushing the jacket off Lucifer’s shoulders for the second time, Adam leans up into the roughness of his mouth as Michael drags his latest release from him with a long, intense shiver, strong hands holding him to the bed.
They’ve been at this for three hours, he feels sore and strained, and he’s going to wear the dull burn in his muscles like a fucking medal once they finish.
He just hopes he doesn’t pass out again.
