Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1242136.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Wincest_-_Freeform, Weecest, Underage_-_Freeform, Camping, Fear_of_being
      caught, deanbenny_-_Freeform, realization_of_lust, Alpha/Beta/Omega
      Dynamics, Omegaverse, Jealousy, Tent_Sex, mild_spanking, Smut, top!dean,
      Bottom!Sam, Family, Incest, Supernatural_-_Freeform, Orgasm_Denial, Porn,
      Domination
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-23 Words: 3606
****** Camping Trip ******
by bloodylaundromat_(cryforclarence)
Summary
     Sam gets his first heat while he and Dean are alone at their campsite
     on Little Feather Mountain, and Dean can't bear to leave him alone
     for it.
Notes
     This was a request from a few lovely followers. I don't know if I
     fulfilled all of your wishes, but I tried, and therefore no one
     should criticize me.
The Winchesters moved around a lot, following trails and cases that took them
around the country in crisscrossing paths. If John had it his way, he would be
moving his sons every other day, out to a new dingy motel to dump them in while
he worked. But Sam and Dean needed to get an education. Often, John would leave
them in a town with a fairly good school system for months, and come back
later, so they wouldn't have to start a new one every week. Sam didn't mind
this much, because he had always liked friends better than his old dad anyway,
but Dean wouldn't stop moping about it. He wanted to get in on the action, too.
Saving people, hunting things, the family business. When Dean graduated, he
joined John on cases as much as his dad let him, and Sam found himself alone
for days on end in whatever apartment they were renting out. He didn't usually
miss his father, but he missed Dean like hell. Those weeks eating, working, and
going to school by himself were when Sam started developing feelings for his
older brother - the wrong kind.
Sam had always found Dean attractive. Hell, everyone did, even alphas. There
was something about Dean that made him everyone's "type." Beautiful green eyes
that had as many layers of color as the man himself, broad shoulders, sun-
streaked hair, freckles like stars on his cheeks. There was no denying it. But
when Sam hit those horribly hormonal teen years, he started finding Dean hot.
He hadn't even gotten his first heat yet, but already, he could feel himself
slicking up whenever he thought of his older brother. 
At first, these things weren't much of a problem. Sam was almost always living
alone, and when Dean did come home, John was there too - and whenever John was
home, Sam was too terrified to even think about getting aroused. But when Dean
turned twenty, he decided Sam needed him home more than he needed to be out
hunting vamp nests and popping shifters. Now Dean was around all the time, and
while Sam was glad to see his brother back, it meant that he couldn't just will
the image of Dean's beautiful face out of his head whenever he wanted to. Now
that mass of freckled skin was there for real, in all its glory. And Sam
couldn't stop touching it.
It started small. Sam would brush against his brother just to feel him there,
and no one knew he did it on purpose. He'd hug him just a little longer, lean
into him just a little more when they sat on the couch together and watched TV.
But soon, Sam got bolder. He'd hide all of Dean's clothes in the trunk of the
impala while he took a shower, making it seem like it was just a stupid little
brother prank, but he really just wanted to watch a sopping wet Dean run around
naked. When Dean was bent over the hood of his car, fiddling with something or
other, he'd push his hands under his shirt and tickle him, feeling the perfect,
taut rolls of the muscles on his abs and chest. When he and Dean walked to the
diner for dinner, he'd pretend to trip, just to feel Dean's arms catch him and
haul him up again like he weighed next to nothing. Dean never caught on to any
of it, and soon, Sam started to enjoy himself. He had two more years of high
school before he and Dean would catch up with their father again, and Sam
looked forward to them as much as a little kid looked forward to playing with a
new toy.
But all of Sam's teenager plans were dashed to pieces when Dean met Benny.
Benny owned the diner that Dean and Sam frequented, since it was so close to
their apartment. He'd hired Dean as soon as he applied for a waiting job, and
Sam hated the way he looked at Dean when Dean's back was turned. He knew that
look. It was the same one Dean used to get at the trucker bars John used to
take them to, when he was just shy of seventeen, like Sam. Dean didn't look
exactly like that anymore, but you wouldn't have known it if you saw the way
Benny looked at Dean. It was positively animal, like he wanted to sink his
teeth into his flesh. Sam had never seen an alpha attracted to another alpha
before. He knew it happened, and he knew it must be intense, but he didn't know
it'd be like this. Benny looked at Dean like he was a delicious meal and he
hadn't eaten in days. Still, Dean didn't seem to notice. He was just as
oblivious to Benny's advances as he was to Sam's.
 
It was after that school year ended that Sam was finally rid of Benny. John
came back from who knows where, saying it was time he took his sons camping
before they moved again. Sam was ecstatic, not only because it meant Benny
wouldn't be able to see Dean anymore, but because he'd always wanted to go
camping. It would be like a vacation - and God knows the Winchesters saw few of
those.
In reality, John was taking Dean and Sam out to the Little Feather Mountains in
upstate New York because he was hunting some creature that had been scaring
away tourists in the area. He was comfortable bringing Sam along because he
knew the creature wasn't malicious enough to hurt anyone, especially a kid. But
he made sure Dean stayed with him just in case.
Sam and his brother ended up having a great time on Little Feather. John was
usually on the other side of the grounds, so they hiked, fished, and roasted
marshmallows with only the other for company. One time, they were fishing for
trout in the Gadawahi Lake when Dean suddenly shoved Sam into its shallow
depths. Sam came up a second later, sputtering angrily. He noticed that Dean
had been able to grab the fishing pole out of Sam's hand before he went under,
which was a mercy, because they hadn't been a cheap rent.
"What the hell, Dean?" Sam cried, treading to the bank and pulling himself back
out of the water. The lakeweed at the bottom had coiled around his legs, and
now he felt slimy and more than slightly violated.
"Consider it payback for that time you hid my clothes in my car and made me run
out there buck naked. Mrs Tate across the street didn't know what hit her,"
Dean chuckled.
"Nah, I think she enjoyed it," Sam replied. He was still pissed, but he was
grinning, too. But the water had been cold, even though it was summer already,
and he shivered in his plaid and tee. Dean set the fishing rod down next to the
one he had discarded in favor of pushing Sam into the lake.
"Let's get back to the tents. You should get on something dry, or you'll catch
a cold," he said. Sam might have said something about how that was entirely
Dean's fault, but his teeth were chattering too viciously to allow speech. He
followed Dean back to their comfortable little camp and got a pair of
sweatpants and a clean t-shirt from his duffel bag. He didn't know Dean was
watching him strip down until he heard his voice from behind him.
"You're what, sixteen now?" Dean asked. Sam turned and grinned.
"And better looking than you were when you were my age," he said.
"True. I was one weird looking kid, Missouri's right." Missouri was a friend of
John's, and had often taken care of the brothers when they were too young to go
it alone. Sam looked at the pile of soaked-through clothes he had left on the
floor of the tent. If Missouri had been there, she would have ranted and raved
about all the dangers of doing something like that. He picked up the wet bundle
and tossed them to Dean.
"Hang those up close to the fire, yeah? Dad's not going to bring us back to
town to refuel and do laundry for a few days yet, and I might need those
again." Dean caught them.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, but he didn't move. He was staring at Sam's bare chest,
still hairless and pale, but with the fine hint of muscle beneath sixteen-year-
old skin. "Sam, you had your first heat yet?"
Sam blushed. "N-no." All of his omega classmates from his most recent school
had gotten theirs already. The school nurse had assured him that there was
nothing to worry about, but he still did. As an omega, getting your first heat
was a sign of adulthood. It meant you were ready to mate, ready to build a
family and a life for yourself. It made Sam uncomfortable that he hadn't gotten
it. Most kids got it right on their sixteenth birthday, but Sam was months and
months past that - he was closer to seventeen, now. "The nurse says it'll come
soon, though."
"No, I'm sure it will, Sam. I don't care if you're a late bloomer - Dad said he
was, too. I'm glad you haven't gotten it yet. I wanna be there, when you do,
and I know me and Dad haven't been there for you these past few years. I was
worried I'd missed it. Hated myself, thinking of you getting your first heat
all alone." Dean was looking at the ground, and Sam was thankful, because he
was sure his face was beet red. Dean suddenly started, as if realizing what
he'd been saying, and walked back to the fire to hang up Sam's clothes.
 
A few nights later, Sam and Dean were roasting marshmallows and making s'mores
by the campfire. They'd just had a dinner of white bread and spam heated up
right in the can, and lazily passed a beer bottle back and forth as they
watched perfect white marshmallows turn golden in the flames. Dean cursed and
threw his stick down in the grass to put out one that'd gotten too close and
caught aflame. He sighed and picked up a half-used chocolate bar, deciding to
just eat it by itself.
"Did you like Benny?" Sam asked suddenly. Dean looked up at him, confused.
"Y'mean Benny my boss, back at the diner?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. "Sure, I
liked him. He's a great guy, let us eat free because I worked there. That
job'll be one of the few things I'll miss about that town."
"No, I mean, did you like him," Sam repeated, making a point to add
significance to the word. Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Are you jealous?" he joked, but Sam scowled, throwing down a half-eaten
s'more. He stomped away from the campfire and disappeared into his tent.
"Woah, Sam, I was joking! Why are you so angry?" Dean called, but Sam ignored
him. 
 
Dean went back to his tent after the fire died down, and also tried to sleep.
But he couldn't. He kept thinking about how pissed off Sam had looked. He
didn't like angering his brother. Hell, he hated seeing Sam unhappy any time,
and the fact that he was probably the cause for it, this time, was making him
feel like a piece of crap. Dean finally gave up on trying to get some shut eye
and crawled out of his tent. He went to his brother's, gently pulled back the
tent flap and peeked in.
"Sam, are you actually jealous?" Dean was asking.
"Oh my god, get the fuck away!" Sam screamed, tossing his pillow at his face.
That's when the smell hit him. Oh, it was perfect. Sweet and tangy and salty,
it smelled just like he thought Sam would: downright sinful. Sam's face was
sweaty and pink, his hair mussy from running his hands through in frustration.
Dean saw the outline of his erection under the blankets. Dean's eyes started to
darken, and he felt something like a needy growl start at the back of his
throat. He stopped it, immediately, when he realized what was going on.
"Sam, are you in heat?" he whispered. Sam whimpered and covered his face with
his hands, nodding.
"Why didn't you call me?" Dean yelled, angry and needing at the same time. He
wanted to pull Sam closer, to smell him better, find out what the shimmering
sweat on his pale neck tasted like. But he held himself back.
"I'm sorry! It started a few hours after I went to bed, and I got angry at you
so I thought you were angry at me, and - oh god, Dean, I don't know what to
do!" Sam was writhing now under Dean's gaze, which was hungry now, and Dean
couldn't help it. It wasn't fair, Sam smelling this good. But his little
brother needed him right now. Whatever fucked up things he was feeling right
now, he'd deal with them later - in a bathroom, alone, the image of Sam pink
and sweaty and sprawled before him. But that would be later.
"Alright, Sam, just calm down. Deep breaths." Sam nodded, and obeyed. "Now,
give me the blankets. Believe me, you are going to get very hot - you'll need
as few layers on as possible." Sam kicked the blankets off and handed them to
him. Dean couldn't help feeling a little twinge in his stomach. Was Sam always
this obedient? He ordered for Sam to take off his clothes, and he did, not
questioning a thing. Sam trusted Dean. Dean's alpha instincts were jumping off
the wall. Since when had his brother been this fucking hot? It wasn't fair. It
wasn't right. But Dean wanted nothing more than to grab Sam, pin him down, and
fuck him into next month. He found himself having to take deep breaths, too,
just to control himself. Sam, who was palming himself involuntarily and making
reedy little noises in the back of his throat, wasn't making things any easier
on him.
"Okay, okay. Yeah, keep doing that, it'll make it easier. Shit, I wished I'd
prepared for this. I should have read up about this, god knows I don't know
what to do. But dildos are a good choice, right? I could drive off the
mountain, but it'd take too long to find a town with a shop that sells dildos -
there isn't even a Spencer's for forty miles.
"I don't want anything fake," Sam said resolutely.
"Well, no hooker is going to come all the way up here for you, Sam."
"Don't want anyone else, either," Sam continued. He snaked his arms around
Dean's shoulders, trying to tug him into the tent. He mouthed along Dean's jaw,
pressed his lips to Dean's frozen mouth. Sam was slurring his words against his
brother's lips. "Want you, always have, nobody else. No one but you. Want your
cock, Dean, fucking me all night."
He looked up at Dean with those big puppy-dog eyes, scent coiling around Dean
like a snake circling its prey. "Please?" Sam whimpered, and his web snapped
down around Dean, who wasn't at all expecting anything like this. He found
himself crowding Sam onto the floor of the tent before he could fully process
what he was doing, mashing their lips together. Sam moaned and opened his mouth
for him, wanting, submissive. He tried to touch himself again, but Dean growled
loud and pinned Sam's arms down, taking his time. His alpha instincts were
jutting out in spikes, eyes clouding with lust and the slight beginnings of
fangs peeking through his gums. All senses of rhyme and reason were gone, for
both brothers; if John decided to come back to his sons' camp now, he would be
in for a surprise. But who cared about John anymore? It was only Sam and Dean,
and the burning need for something more.
Dean trailed kisses down Sam's neck, pale and bared for his brother. If Sam
were in a better state of mind, he would have been worried about the hickeys,
but now he wanted Dean's markings everywhere, so no one would ever forget who
he belonged to. 
"So perfect, Sammy," Dean whispered. Sam's scent was better than any drug he'd
ever tried, pulling him so high off his feet he never wanted to come back down.
He pulled away to shuck off his shirt, and Sam whined, trying to pull him back.
Dean quirked an eyebrow. 
"Patience," he growled, suddenly grabbing Sam and flipping him over. Sam
gasped, and grabbed the pillow of his sleeping bag. Dean roughly adjusted his
legs so his ass stuck high in the air. Sam couldn't help urging it higher. Dean
slapped him there once, but hard, and he whimpered, practically writhing for it
now. Dean bent down and licked a hot stripe over Sam's slick, pink hole. He
pulled his cheeks apart with his hands, and edged his tongue into it. He
worried he was going too fast for a first time, but Sam was making beautiful,
beautiful noises beneath him. Fuck, he wanted this just as much as Dean did.
Dean added a finger into Sam's dripping hole. Sam pushed back on it greedily.
"Want you, Dean. Stop teasing." Dean grinned on Sam, making him shiver. He
removed his finger from Sam with a slick noise, but didn't refill him. Instead,
he stretched himself along Sam's body, sucking the lobe of Sam's ear into his
mouth and eliciting a moan from his little brother.
"What do you want, Sam? Want me to fuck you right here in the tent, fuck you
until you come on my cock like the little slut you are?" Sam nodded meekly,
biting his lip to keep from sobbing. "Then tell me."
"I'm a little slut for you, Dean, please fill me up, don't want anyone but you,
ever - god," Sam hissed, just as Dean slapped him again. His dick was throbbing
from neglect, precome dirtying the sleeping bag so Sam knew it would smell like
tonight forever. But he didn't reach for it. He trusted Dean to know what was
right. 
At that moment, Dean wasn't sure of anything but the fact that what he was
about to do to his sixteen-year-old brother was the exact opposite of right.
Nevertheless, he straightened himself up again, angling his cock at Sam's
soaking wet hole. He slapped him once, twice, turning Sam's ass a beautiful,
blushing red. 
"Please, De," Sam whispered desperately. Sam hadn't used Dean's nickname for
years - now, it was setting him off like a firework. He growled and roughly
pulled Sam's body onto his cock. Sam exclaimed in surprise, but immediately
moaned in pleasure. He buried his head in the plush fabric of his sleeping bag,
breath coming in gasps now. Dean was bigger than he had expected, and he felt
more than too full, but god, did it feel good. He cried out shamelessly every
time Dean hit his prostate with a merciless thrust of his hips.
For a few minutes, the small tent shook to a crazy rhythm that was all their
own. Crickets chirped frantically, as if to scream for them to stop. Sam and
Dean could care less. Finally with each other in that tent, the two brothers
felt safe - loved. Dean's animalistic growls pierced the night air, and Sam's
needy, uneven moans and pleas for Dean to go harder were enough to make the
entire fauna population of Little Feather hot and bothered.
"Dean, I wanna - I need to -" Sam tried, trying to free his wrists from the
tight grip Dean was holding them in above his head. His cock felt almost
strangled - he needed to come so badly, and he didn't know if he could just
from Dean fucking him. 
"Mm, I know what you need, gonna give it to you," Dean slurred, words thick and
sweet as syrup. "Gonna make you come on my cock without me even touching you,
baby boy - promise you'll like it." Sam's eyes widened, but he didn't protest,
crying out as Dean smacked him again on his sore bottom. He started pushing
back to meet Dean's thrusts, cursing a blue streak as he hit his prostate every
single time. Dean's thrusts became more erratic, his breath heavy in Sam's ear.
He bit down on Sam's shoulder, where the sun had burnt it a few days before.
Sam practically screamed, and clenched angrily around Dean as he came in pearly
white lines onto the tent floor. 
"Fuck, Sam -" Dean hissed as he shot off into Sam's fucked-out hole, messy and
uninhibited. When it started to drip out, he shoved a tired finger in and
pulled as much out as he could. Without any prodding, Sam turned and took
Dean's filthy finger into his mouth, making horribly obscene noises as he
cleaned every last drop of spunk off. He blushed when he looked up at Dean, who
was looking down at him with a mix of wonder and reverence. 
"Was it okay?" Sam asked, suddenly self-conscious. He remembered what he had
been saying before, and was exceedingly glad that there had been no one but
Dean to hear him. 
"Okay? Baby, you're perfect," Dean whispered, laying down beside him and
gathering him into his arms. Sam grinned and snuggled against him. Before they
both dropped off, he heard Dean say, "And tomorrow, I'm going to show you just
how good you can use those beautiful cock-sucking lips of yours." To Sam, that
didn't sound too bad at all.
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