Word Count: ~300
Prompt: One of the boys is cursed and now needs cum to survive, in the same way that people need food or water. Love some focus on the cursed party being all embarrassed to let the other know when they're hungry for cum, and maybe the other makes them beg a little bit to be "fed". (Originally posted here.)
At first, the curse was a simple matter of poetic retribution. Dean's very own addiction, one that would leave him just as anxious and strung out as Sam had been. One that would compel him to chase after someone he could barely stand and beg for whatever they could give. One that would show him how no and wrong were mere whispers against a body screaming yes, yes, yes.
But now, now it's so much more. Now it's Dean's captivating cycle of crumpling resolve, weakness weighing his need against his revulsion until the choice is do or die. It's his internal debate between Sam, who never hurts him and always gives in - eventually - and some unknown other who might require more than Dean's pretty, pretty pleas. It's Dean's body, shaken and unsteady, as he sinks to his knees and begs to suck his baby brother's cock.
There's no better feeling than Dean's mouth, saliva-slick from the promise of Sam's come, swallowing him down. Dean's all speed and no style, not a hint of finesse, but every move's imbued with a frantic want that has Sam on the verge in seconds flat. It can't be comfortable but Dean still groans, hungry and deep, when Sam holds his head and fucks his throat and comes and comes and comes.
Dean's beautiful when he's sated, soft and almost smiling. Sam will trace his lips and dry his tears and long to linger there, edging oblivion, for days on end. But those moments inevitably end, Dean coming to and stumbling away and forcing himself to face the cycle over and over again.