Graveyard Digger, Coffin Case Sinner

Devils & Heathens Alike

[tags include: breathplay (consensual); consensual kink; violence; sadism; Dean Winchester/Jimmy Novak; Sam W; voyeurism]

Sam crept quietly down the hallway as he heard voices in the bedroom he shared with his sixteen-year-old brother. The door was cracked open several inches, and he peered into the room, when he reached it. He could see Dean and Jimmy Novak, his friend from school, standing near the bedroom window. The window was open; it was obvious Jimmy had climbed in through it, instead of going around to the front door.

He knew he probably shouldn't spy on his brother and his friend, or listen to their conversation.. but that didn't stop him from doing it. Sam watched, curious, as Jimmy leaned back against the wall, stretching a bit so his t-shirt rode up to reveal an inch of his stomach.

"C'mon, Dean," the teenager murmured, glancing at Dean from beneath his long lashes, his too-long bangs falling over his forehead, "I'm leaving for fucking Canada tomorrow. It can be my going-away gift." Jimmy shot him a smile that was more taunt than mirth, "You know you wanna."

Dean moved closer to the brown-haired teen, stepping into his space. "That what you want?" He raised a hand and brushed his thumb over Jimmy's nipple, rubbing it until it pebbled beneath the thin t-shirt he was wearing. "My hands around your throat?"

"Yeah," the other's voice was breathless, eyes closed and head resting back against the wall. Exposing his pale throat. He bit his bottom lip as Dean caught his nipple between two fingers, pinched it hard before resuming his rubbing, "Fuck, Dean, yeah, please."

The older teen smiled slightly, raised his other hand to work over his other nipple. Jimmy was pliant beneath his hands, panting beneath his touch, and Dean's smile widened. He stepped closer as he slid his hands up the other boy's chest, fingers tracing his clavicles before moving up to his throat.

When both hands tightened around his throat, Jimmy moaned and tried to arch into his touch. Dean shoved him back in place, holding him there with the grip on his neck.

"Yeah," a low whisper from the pinned teen, "Harder, Dean. Please. "

Dean hummed in response, a low sound from his throat. He tightened his hold as he leaned into the other teen, pressing against his neck and cutting off his supply of oxygen. A red hue was creeping up Jimmy's neck and face as he gasped for air, mouth open and eyes shut. The look on his face wasn't panic, however; it was pleasure, no mistaking it.

"You wanna get off while I'm choking you?"

A hard shudder racked the pinned teen's body at Dean's low-spoken question, and he opened his eyes to meet Dean's gaze as he gasped out a soft, "Yes."

"Mm," Dean smiled again, a flash of perfect white teeth, "I'll consider it." The look on his own face was pleased: he was enjoying this. He licked his lips and squeezed harder, a husky chuckle escaping him as Jimmy moaned again. The other teen's face was turning a shade of red, and his attempts to draw in air were useless; Dean's grip was too tight. He shuddered again, a soft, broken sound of need escaping him, as Dean shifted forward a bit to press his knee against his groin.

Sam, wide-eyed, watched it all from his place on the other side of the cracked door. A soft gasp escaped him as he watched his brother press hard against Jimmy's windpipe, watched the other teen's hand come up to grasp at Dean's wrist. He cursed internally as Dean's eyes shifted toward the door at his gasp; how had his brother even heard that?

Sam swallowed as Dean stared at him, green eyes narrowing slightly. He expected the other to scold him for spying, or to come and slam the door in his face, at the very least. The other only stared, however, his gaze locked on him.