Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/969058.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Pre-Series, Established_Relationship, Plot_What_Plot/Porn
      Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-16 Words: 2228
****** Don't It Make You Feel So Fine ******
by tmn1966
Summary
     Just a lazy Sunday morning in a house they're squatting in, waiting
     for their dad to return from a hunt. (Sam is 16 and Dean is 20)
Notes
     This is my first (and maybe only) attempt at writing wincest. I hope
     I captured them halfway decently.
     The title comes from the song 'Do You Wanna Touch Me' by Joan Jett.
The house was old and creepy by most standards, but it was supernatural free,
so Dean kind of liked it. It had a history if you bothered to look – from the
chipped china that had been left behind in the kitchen cabinets to the peeling
wallpaper that revealed another layer, a different gaudy pattern beneath it. He
wondered sometimes if he started picking at it just how many layers he’d find.
All and all, Dean was pretty happy to hole up there for the few weeks it would
take their dad to finish his current hunt and come back to collect them.
It was a Sunday morning, the one day he was allowed to sleep in and he had
taken full advantage of it. He didn’t have to jump out of bed, get Sam's ass to
school and get his own to the 7-Eleven for his shift. He squinted to get a look
at his watch. Nine a.m., not too bad.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked around. Sam’s bed was empty, the
sheets all tangled and rumpled. They really didn't need to share a room, and if
they weren't so wrapped up in each other's lives he was sure that Sam would be
bitching for his own room. But neither of them asked and their dad either never
thought to try to get them into separate rooms or was still living under the
mantra that Sammy needed constant watch. Dean didn't disagree. It was his job
to do that and it was easier to accomplish if his younger brother was underfoot
constantly. Dean wasn't complaining about that either.
Standing up and stretching, he couldn't help but give his brother's bed a
cursory touch. No warmth could be detected, which meant Sam had been up for a
while. The kid had probably already gone out to get the paper. For all of Sam’s
smarts when it came to school and shit, his little brother still hit the Sunday
Funnies first before looking at anything else. Smirking at the thought of Sam
with his nose buried in the paper, ink staining his fingers and giggling at
some stupid shit Snoopy or Garfield did, he slipped on some sweats and socks –
the floor was always fucking cold in the morning. He padded out of the bedroom
in search of Sam.
“So predictable,” Dean muttered as he found him lying on his stomach on the
living room floor, his feet kicked up behind him, the colorful pages of the
Funnies spread out in front of him.
“Shut up,” Sam said absently. “Like I don’t know every move you’re gonna make
before you do it.”
“You do not,” Dean grumped, even though it was probably true. Mostly anyway.
“Did you get breakfast while you were out?”
“Yeah, I got your pie,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder to give him the
requisite bitchface. “Which, gross, that’s not a very healthy breakfast.”
“What about our lives is healthy,” Dean murmured as he wondered into the
kitchen to see a slice of cherry pie and a glass of milk sitting on the table,
ready and waiting for him. He touched the tumbler, impressed to find that it
was ice cold. He couldn't help but be a little smug at the thought of Sam
hearing him stirring and jumping up to get his breakfast ready.
“Hey, Dean?” Sam called from the living room.
“What?” He plopped down in the chair and picked up the fork, ready to dig into
the slice of pie that was already making his mouth water.
“Wanna go out and see a movie today?”
Dean mentally went through the money he had left over from his last pay as he
got his first taste of the sweet and tart cherries fill his mouth. There
probably were enough funds for a matinee and some popcorn, but he wasn't a big
brother for nothing. "We gotta hit the Laundromat today. No clean clothes left,
dude."
"Aww, Dean," Sam whined just like Dean knew he would, and came pouting into the
kitchen, all slouched shoulders and droopy mouth. "C'mon, can't we see a movie
first? I promise I won't ask for nothing else all week."
"All week, huh?" Dean asked thoughtfully as if he had to seriously consider it.
"Please, Dean." Sam slipped into the chair opposite Dean's and gave him a shy
little smile. "Give you anything you want."
Oh well, this was turning out better than he’d thought. "Like?"
"I dunno. Whatever." Sam was still in that awkward teenager phase and although
he could be damn stubborn at times, when it came to other things, he was quite
endearingly cute stuttering about and not sure how to put into words what he
wanted.
"Huh. Well, I don't know either, Sam. Whatever seems to encompass a lot. Gotta
give me some specifics to go on. See if it's worth giving in to you."
"Dean," Sam huffed. "You hardly ever give in to me."
Now that right there was a damn lie and Sam knew it. But again, Dean
understood, barely being out of his teens himself. "You sure about that one,
Sammy?" he said, low and smooth. "Seems to me I let you kiss me a few weeks
back."
Sam ducked his head but not enough that Dean didn't get a nice look at the
blush that stained his brother's cheeks.
"You're a jerk, you know that," Sam said, but there was no heat to it and his
mouth was starting to curl up into a smile. Yeah, Dean was sure that Sam was
pretty proud of that moment where Dean had let Sam explore his mouth and run
his hands all over his big brother. They'd done more stuff since then, but Dean
refused to go too far. Sam's hormones were doing most of the talking for him
and Dean wasn’t about to take advantage of that.
"Why don't you come over here and show me what you'd do then."
Sam gave him a hot little look through his bangs and Dean was unsure if his
brother realized the power of that look. Most likely he did once he straddled
Dean and settled himself on his lap and could feel that Dan’s cock was already
hardened up. Sam leaned his forehead on Dean's shoulder and said quietly,
"Wanna get you off."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Sam asserted, kissing the juncture of skin between Dean's neck and
shoulder, sucking lightly and then actually licking him. "No one tastes like
you, Dean."
"You been tasting a lot of people, Sammy?" Dean tried to tamp down his jealousy
- he wanted Sam to have experiences, he just didn't necessarily want to know
about them.
"No," Sam said with a small snort. "I mean, I kissed a coupla girls, but you
know, not like this."
And okay, girls were safe. Dean had no problem teasing his little brother about
his sexual prowess when it came to girls.
"You get any other action besides kissin'? Second base?"
Sam buried his head in Dean's neck, his breath hot on Dean's skin as he said,
"I felt up Missy Tenor a few months ago."
"How was it? Didja like it?"
Sam was rutting against him a little and Dean's arms wrapped loosely around his
brother's waist. "Yeah, I guess," Sam said, finally lifting his head. "But I
really like this, too."
"Pretty little Missy didn't let you do this, huh?"
"Never did it with anyone else but you." Sam started to writhe against him in
earnest now.
"You keep that up and you're gonna come in your pants and we really will have
to go do laundry first."
"Don't care."
“You’ll care when we’re sittin’ at the overly warm Laundromat watchin’ our
clothes spin around instead of in a comfy movie theater eating popcorn and
suckin’ down some sodas.”
“Wanna suck you,” Sam whispered into his ear. “Can I?”
Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall back just a little. “Sammy,” he said
on a sigh.
“C’mon, Dean, please. Been wanting to for so long. Need to taste you like
that.”
And Dean should’ve figured Sam wouldn’t be happy with rubbing off on each other
and a few hand jobs now that he’d had a taste of it, so to speak. Sam’s hand
slipped down between them, cupped Dean easily through his sweats. A groan
managed to find its way out before Dean could stop it.
“Please.” Sam was a little breathless, his hips circling, grinding against
Dean.
“Sound so pretty beggin’.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but it was true
nonetheless. Sam could be relentless when he wanted something, but Dean had
never heard him sound like this.
“Been dreaming of it, tasting your cock, feeling you on my tongue. Thinking of
your hands on my head, holding me while you fuck my mouth.”
“Jesus, Sammy!”
His brother leaned back, his eyes dark and full of lust, and Dean could feel
him shaking a little. It might have been a mixture of want and fear, a heady
combination.
“Let me,” Sam pleaded. “I really want to, Dean, I promise. Been thinkin’ ‘bout
it for over a year.”
Dean drew in a sharp breath. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but still,
knowing that his brother had been thinking of blowing him for so long was
hotter than hell.
“Sam,” he groaned as his brother slipped off his lap, slid slowly to his knees,
his hands pushing against the inside of Dean’s thighs. Dean let his legs fall
open and Sam moved in closer. Dean’s arms were hanging useless at his side when
Sam started trying to work his sweats down.
“Lift up,” Sam ordered softly and Dean instantly obeyed, like a damn Pavlovian
response or some shit. His brother slid his pants and boxers down his thighs,
past his knees but left his pooled at his feet as he moved in quickly to catch
a drop of pre-come off Dean’s dick, swiping his tongue across the head.
“Fuck,” Dean breathed, his hand finding its way into Sam’s hair without
permission. He hadn’t intended to touch Sam, wanted Sam to feel that he could
stop any time he wanted.
“Yeah, Dean,” Sam moaned. “It’s what I want,” he said before fitting his mouth
around Dean. He was cautious at first, tentative, and still it felt amazing.
Dean had his share of blow jobs and really there was no such thing as a bad
one, unless someone bit your dick off or something. But Sammy would never do
that and this already felt way different than any other blow job.
Sam was humming around Dean’s dick and it felt fan-fucking-tastic. And Sam’s
hair threaded through his fingers? It was the icing on the cake. “Jesus, Sammy,
your mouth.”
Sam looked up at him, and didn’t that make a pretty picture, his mouth stuffed
full of Dean’s cock. Sam’s one hand circled the base of Dean’s cock while the
other cupped his balls, his fingers lightly stroking his perineum. His little
brother had been doing some research it seemed. Dean would’ve laughed, but
seriously he was far more thankful than normal that his brother was such a
nerd.
Sam was pretty sloppy about it, but certainly made up for it in enthusiasm and
the slurpy, pornographic noises he was making. Dean’s orgasm was building
before he could stop it, and he really didn’t want to anyway. He just wanted to
enjoy this moment, this time when it really was just him and Sammy. As far as
he was concerned they were the only two people in the world.
He arched his back slightly, his fingers curling tighter into Sam’s hair.
“Gonna come, Sam.”
He wasn’t surprised when his brother didn’t pull off, just kept sucking,
moaning even more when Dean started to spurt into his mouth. Jesus, the kid
loved it, no doubt about it. Sam stayed with him, rode out his orgasm with him,
his tongue sliding against the underside of Dean’s dick. Sam finally pulled
off, but not fully, not before taking a few last licks.
Dean let his body go limp, enjoyed the post-orgasmic bliss. “Gimme a minute and
I’ll return the favor,” he panted.
“Um.” Sam was back to keeping his head down, not looking at him. Dammit, he
knew he shouldn’t have let it go this far. But then Sam looked up at him with a
sheepish look. “You don’t have to. I kinda lost it when you did it.”
“Oh fuck, I missed that?” Really not what he’d wanted to say, but fuck all that
was hot, Sammy coming untouched.
His brother grinned, showing off his killer dimples. “Well, we can do it again
later, can’t we?”
He never could deny Sam much of anything. “Yeah, we can,” he said softly,
leaning in for a quick kiss. “Now go change while I finish my breakfast.”
“Pie really isn’t a good breakfast,” Sam complained as he stood.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch. Man’s gotta have some pleasures in life,” he said as he
pulled his pants back into place.
“You’re the poster boy for hedonism, Dean,” Sam scoffed as he made his way into
the bedroom.
Dean smiled around a mouthful of pie as he looked up at the fine little cracks
running like veins in the ceiling. Yeah. He really did like this house.
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