Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8155.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Hand_Jobs, Wincest_-_Freeform
  Collections:
      Sinful_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-11-05 Words: 1253
****** Bitch ******
by arby
Summary
     Dean smiled at Sam like a cat about to eat the cream, if the cat were
     a lion and the cream a juicy gazelle.
     "Feels pretty good, doesn't it?"
Notes
     Originally published on Livejournal here.
See the end of the work for more notes
It started innocently enough, fighting over some childhood triviality they
should have outgrown - a can of soda Sam had that Dean wanted. He tried to
snatch it when Sam wasn't looking, Sam evaded him, there was a chase. Finally
Sam stood in an inaccessible location and deliberately emptied the can into the
trash, laughing.
Dean narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, that's it. I'm gonna have to get you for that. Get over here," he growled.
"What are you, high? No way."
"Aw c'mon Sammy, you know you've always been my bitch - I'm just making it
official."
"Heyyy," Sam whined, "fuck you."
He tackled Dean in mock rage; they scuffled for a minute until Dean flipped Sam
over and sat on him. At twenty, he outweighed Sam by at least thirty pounds,
most of them muscle. Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively, absurdly, Groucho
Marx-style. "Yeah, you wish!"
Sam punched him feebly in the arm. Dean subdued him easily and held both his
wrists with one hand.
"What's the matter, little bitch - don't you like that? What, is there sand in
your vagina?"
"Shut up, jerk." Sam squirmed eellike beneath him and Dean couldn't resist
tickling his ribs hard, almost to the point of pain, which made Sam's gangly
frame writhe even faster and giggles emerge from him against his will.
"Oh, so you admit you're a pussy, huh? Well how do you like this?"
He leaned down and kissed Sam with a kind of confused intensity, as if he had
been wanting to for a while but still surprised himself by actually doing it.
Then he pulled back. They stared at each other, panting. It was as if all the
air had been sucked out of the room. Sam swallowed. He had gone motionless,
stock-still in Dean's grip. His eyes were dilated, huge, and Dean could see
himself reflected tinily in his brother's pupils.
Suddenly Sammy looked very young as he unconsciously licked his lips and
whispered, "I do."
And he looked down, as if waiting for Dean to do something else to him. The
submissiveness of it was shockingly erotic. His body was bony and light beneath
Dean, and his eyelashes were way longer than any boy's had the right to be.
                                   * * * * *

Sam was in shock. Dean had kissed him, and it felt even better than he had
imagined. He was suddenly very conscious of his brother's weight on his
midsection and how he had Sam's arms pinned above his head, completely
vulnerable to whatever Dean wanted. Dean was watching him, eyes dark with a
hungry, speculative look that made Sam flush. He felt like Little Red Riding
Hood, about to be eaten up - or ravished - by the wolf.
"You do, huh?" Dean's voice was low, husked. He moved in slowly this time,
deliberately, maintaining that intense gaze until the last second, when he
kissed Sam again, not quite as hard but still fiercely. Sam could feel the lust
in it, how Dean was barely holding it in check, and he let his lips fall open
to give entry to his brother's tongue, and heard his own breath sigh into
Dean's mouth in a little whimper that would have embarrassed him under any
other circumstances. But Dean seemed to find it exciting - he drove his tongue
into Sam harder, faster, until Sam's head was spinning with the stimulation.
He was getting hard beneath the pressure of Dean's body on his, and as he
shifted his hips almost unconsciously, Dean felt it. Without ceasing his attack
on Sam's mouth, he ran a hand down Sam's torso until he reached his crotch,
between his own legs, where he rubbed Sam's erection through his jeans, just a
little. Then he stopped. Sam arched up instinctively in response. Breaking the
kiss, Dean pushed Sam's legs apart and put his knee between them. Sam was
panting and limp with pleasure, putty in Dean's experienced hands. His cock was
now achingly stiff and incredibly sensitive, precum soaking his boxers.
Dean smiled at him like a cat about to eat the cream, if the cat were a lion
and the cream a juicy gazelle. "Feels pretty good, doesn't it?"
"Mmph," Sam moaned unintelligibly. Dean chuckled affectionately, clearly
enjoying the sight of his brother coming so undone.
"What do you want, little bro? You want me to touch you some more, is that it?"
"Mm-hm," was the only reply he could make. His hips were moving of their own
volition, desperately seeking contact.
Dean lifted Sam up with one hand, grabbed Sam's t-shirt with the other and
pulled it over his head. He flung it over his shoulder. Then he leaned over and
started sucking on Sam's neck, slowly caressing his bare chest. Goosebumps
stippled Sam's flesh and he shivered with delight. The angle caused Dean's leg
to brush against Sam's dick; the combination of sensations was almost
unbearable. Dean ran his tongue down Sam's pulsating throat and tweaked one of
his nipples. Sam shot off the floor with a squeak. Dean laughed again, his
breath hot against Sam's neck, and pushed him gently back down with a hand on
his chest.
"Like that, don't you?" His voice was warm and rough with amused lust. He
trailed wetly down Sam's pec like an erotic snail, and when he reached a nipple
sucked it vigorously. Sam was seriously about to cream his jeans, and his cock
wasn't even getting the attention.
As if reading his mind, Dean slipped a hand between his legs and slowly,
deliberately undid Sam's fly. His prick sprang out through the hole in his
boxers with an obscene, priapic enthusiasm, as if to say finally! Dean grasped
it with a warm hand, expertly slicking the shaft with precum. Sam groaned, eyes
rolling back in his head, as Dean began to fist it. He was gasping like a fish
and completely out of his mind with the feeling. He didn't think he could last
much longer, it felt so incredibly good. Dean covered Sam's mouth with his own,
and began thrusting with his tongue in rhythm with his strokes. This pushed him
over the edge, until Sam trembling and crying out incoherently into Dean's
mouth, spilling over Dean's hand and shooting onto his own stomach as the
silver-sweet electricity sparked through him, came harder than he ever had in
his entire life. The pleasure was so great it was on the edge of pain, and it
went on and on washing over him in waves as Dean wound down gradually, his
touch getting lighter as Sam got more sensitive, until he was barely touching
his cock and finally stopped completely, gently stroking Sam's chest while he
shuddered through the final spasms. Then Dean kissed him again so softly and
lovingly, as his mind came down from the white-hot plateau, that Sam felt if
his body were made of eiderdown, floating delicately through the clouds to land
in his brother's arms.
A long moment passed. Sam was utterly paralyzed with the afterglow, heart
pounding. Dean finally released his wrists. They ached but Sam didn't care.
His brother smiled fondly, then it grew into a smirk. "See - told you you were
my bitch."
Sam had to laugh at that - it was just so Dean. His brother ruffled his hair
and whispered in his ear, "That was nothing - wait 'til you get your first
blowjob."
Sam's eyes grew wide and he said incredulous, "No way."
"Yes way. Don't worry, I'll help you through it. Nothing but the best for my
little bro Sammy."
End Notes
     Very soon after the premiere of SPN, I remember we only had one or
     two fic comms then. I read all the stories on sn_slash, I believe it
     was, and then wrote this in one night and posted it at 5 or 6 in the
     morning. It was my first real SPN story - aside from a few ficlets
     that weren't fully baked. Now I spend months revising. I should go
     back to not being afraid that I didn't know what I was doing. Also, I
     know the South Park reference is totally anachronistic, but I
     couldn't resist.
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