Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6358690.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural, Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Jensen_Ackles, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Loss_of_Virginity, Soulless_Sam_Winchester, Underage
      Jensen, Implied/Referenced_Underage_Relationship(s), Implied/Referenced
      Underage_Sex, Implied/Referenced_Incest, Implied_Dean_Winchester/Sam
      Winchester, Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Dubious_Morality, Extremely
      Underage, Anal_Sex, Size_Kink, Size_Difference, Oral_Sex, Sexual
      Coercion, Coercion, Dirty_Talk, Feminization, Anal_Fingering, Painful
      Sex, Bottom_Jensen, Top_Sam
  Collections:
      SPN_Masquerade_Spring_2016
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-03-27 Words: 5498
****** Doppelgänger (little bird sing) ******
by Exaggerated_Specificity
Summary
     Written for SPN Masquerade Spring 2016. The prompt was: "Soulless Sam
     sweet talks an underage girl/boy into giving up her/his cherry. As
     young as you want."
     Soulless Sam has a little fun with one extremely young Jensen Ackles.
     Read the warnings. This is every bit as dirtybadwrong as it sounds.
        [https://40.media.tumblr.com/6364d8098a9b492596fb9e6948e0b4e3/
                      tumblr_o4ombxiLnJ1qaf2eso1_500.jpg]
Notes
     Original SPN Masquerade post HERE. Tumblr post HERE.
The grass is blissfully cool under Sam’s back as he repositions his arm to
shield his eyes from the afternoon sun. He’s been waiting nearly forty-five
minutes for the guys at Monro Muffler and Brake to finish the tune-up on his
Charger but at least he wasn’t stuck in the cramped waiting room next to the
elderly woman in a mumu who smelled like week-old coffee and cat piss. It’s hot
as balls even though it’s nearly October but the picnic table on the corner
next to the garage is the only shade close enough to hear the rumble of the
car’s engine when they pulled it around once it was done. It should only be
another ten minutes or so and then Sam would be back on the road, good as new.
“Hey, isn’t that the little fag from gym class? Jensen or whatever?”
The boys are far enough away that Sam doesn’t notice them until the word ‘fag’
pricks in his eardrum like a thorn. Three clones of varying heights in baseball
caps, crisp blue jeans, and bright white sneakers are walking down the
sidewalk. Rich kids, cocky as the day is long, with no sense of self-
preservation. The same kind of jock assholes that seemed to be fixtures at
every school in the lower forty-eight.
“Yeah, that’s him. Jensen Ackles,” one of them snorts, saying the unusual name
like it’s a dirty word.
Sam pushes up on his elbows and sees a young blonde kid waiting at the city bus
stop right in front of his patch of green. The boy’s slight back is to Sam but
he can see the freckles speckling the back of his neck and the way it’s flushed
extra pink from the sun. The seemingly older boys are further down the block,
coming closer as they continue hurling insults.
“S’up, Jenny? You waiting for your boyyyfriendddd? Fucking queer.” One of them
barks. As they get closer Sam realizes these punks don’t even look old enough
to be in middle school. He’d forgotten how young shit like this started.
Sam watches on coldly, an exercise in observation more than anything else. He
remembers when something like this would have make his skin crawl, made his own
cheeks flush as pink as Jenny’s neck, only with righteous anger instead of
sunshine. These days he’s not so… emotional.
“He’s in my English class too, fuckin’ know-it-all, always spoutin’ off
Shakespeare and shit.”
“Aw, that’s cute. A faggot and a nerd! Tell me, bro. Are you the Romeo or the
Juliet in the relationship?”
“Come on, just look at him! Definitely Juliet. Pretty pink lips just like a
fuckin’ girl’s. Bet you suck a lotta cock, dontcha, Ackles?”
Sam’s interested enough to stand now but the kids are too involved in their
after-school harassment to notice his muscular, imposing frame.
“What’s the matter, fag? That’s right, you’re a fuckin’ FAG, huh?”
Sam looks on as the Ackles boy turns his head to glare at the bullies. The kid
doesn’t say a word. It’s clear they want a fight but he’s not playing, he
tightens the straps on his backpack and looks up the street, eager for his bus
to come.
The boys edge closer, fanning out like a pack of rabid dogs ready to attack.
They’re not satisfied with the silence of their target. Sam had seen this kind
of thing all too regularly during his own childhood. He may be too removed from
that entire part of his life these days to truly empathize but, if there’s one
thing he hates, its monsters. These boys were much more likely to grow into a
fine set of them if he let their sick taunts continue.
He steps from the grass onto the sidewalk, crossing his arms over his broad
chest.
“So what if he's a fag?” Sam says, his deep voice catching all three of the
little hooligans off guard. “What if I'm a fag, too? You gonna beat us both
up?”
He’s practically twice the height of even the tallest of the trio. The look on
their faces is priceless as they evaluate Sam, the interloper, their eyes wide,
mouths hanging open.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Sam growls, stomping his right boot on the concrete
just to watch them jump.
He can see the baby fat jiggle in their cheeks as their faces flush with panic.
The ringleader buries his hands in his pockets and shoves past Jensen to
continue down the block. The other two follow behind like good little lap dogs
and just like that it’s quiet again in the blazing afternoon sun.
Jensen stands there quietly, his head tipped down, his narrow shoulders folding
in a little like he’s trying to hide standing right there in the open.
“Ignore those pussies,” Sam says, his voice as gentle as he can make it. “At
least one of them is gonna go home after this and beat off to the pictures in
his Boys’ Life Magazine. Guaranteed.”
Sam steps up right next to the kid, tilting his head to the side to try and
give him a smile but the boy’s eyes are closed, his sweet little face is
pinched up, and there are tears wetting his long eyelashes. Sam reaches out to
put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, a reassuring gesture, something he does out
of sense memory more than anything. He’s nearly knocked backwards as Jensen
opens his big, teary green eyes and looks at Sam. His face is the spitting
image of a very young Dean Winchester.
“Jesus fuck,” Sam gasps, gripping the boy like it’s the only thing holding him
upright.
“Thanks,” Jensen offers weakly, his plump bottom lip quivering as a tear slips
down his round cheek. “Sorry, y-you didn’t have to do that, I – I can take care
of myself…”
“Christ, you’re…” Sam breathes, a lifetime of memories rush through his mind
with the speed of a bullet train, the images of his brother blurring, dizzying.
This kid is Dean’s doppelganger and it brings Sam as close to having a real
feeling as he’s been in months. It’s bizarre and exhilarating.
Jensen looks confused, his eyes darting over to Sam’s hand that’s still clamped
protectively over his bird-boned shoulder.
“Shit, sorry,” Sam says, releasing his grip. He can’t pull his hand away
without wiping a tear from Jensen’s cheek with his thumb. “You just – fuck, you
look exactly like someone I haven’t seen in a really long time. Someone that
meant a whole lot to me. Just surprised me is all. I’m Sam, Sam Winchester.”
Sam crams his hand in his pocket so he doesn’t run his thumb over the kid’s
lower lip. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, trying to pull himself
out of whatever nostalgic delirium he’s lost in. Looking at the love of his
life’s mini-clone had knocked him on his ass. Sam’s cock twitches in his jeans
as he clears his throat.
"Anyway, like I said, don’t let what those kids were saying get to you too
much, Jensen. Alright?”
The boy nods, his lips parted a little, his tears drying up. He’s staring up at
Sam the way Sam always used to gaze at Dean. Like he hung the fucking moon.
“You know, people used to tell my brother he had cock-sucking lips too and he
grew up really big and strong.”
“Wow, like, as big and strong as you?” Jensen says, his voice full of awe and
his eyes wide, roaming over Sam’s chest and biceps without a hint of shame.
“Yeah, yeah he did. Well, almost,” Sam grins, unable to resist as Jensen lights
up, his face so round and pretty it practically hurts Sam to look at him.
Little heartbreaker. “Listen, Jensen. I know you’re waiting for your bus and
all but my car is in the shop right over there. It’s gonna be ready here any
minute. I can give you a ride home, if you want.”
“Can’t, mom’s working ‘til late,” Jensen sputters as his cheeks pink up, his
words blurting out too quickly, forced. “I take a bus to the YMCA, they have
after-school camp…” Jensen looks less than enthusiastic about going to the Y,
shrugging his shoulders as his face falls. “She’s a nurse, she works a lot…”
“Hey, I know what that’s like. My dad worked all the time when I was a kid.
Left me and my brother alone a bunch. It gets lonely…”
As if on cue, Sam hears the chrome-rumble of the Charger’s engine revving off
in the distance. It pulls him from the stare job he can’t seem to stop giving
Jensen’s mouth. Christ, he’s just a baby, but Sam was already doing filthy,
horrible things to his big bro back when he was Jensen’s age, maybe it wasn’t
such a stretch.
“Hear that?” Sam asks, motioning toward the garage with his head. “Sounds like
my car’s done. I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” Sam offers again,
watching as sweat beads up on Jensen’s freckled forehead. “You maybe…” God, he
shouldn’t. He reallyfucking shouldn’t. Sam wasn’t who he used to be but he
still knew right from wrong. Didn’t he? “I’m staying in a hotel over by the
freeway. There’s a soda machine and air conditioning and free HBO. We could
hang out until your mom gets off her shift?”
Excitement floods Jensen’s eyes as quickly as the tears had earlier but he
tucks his thumbs under the straps of his backpack and looks down at his feet,
sighing hard enough to make his shoulders bob up and down.
“No, I get it. Stranger danger and all that. You’re right. You’re a smart kid.
Seem like a real good boy. Wouldn’t want you to do anything to get in trouble
with your mom.”
Sam needs to stop watching ‘To Catch A Predator’ reruns, insomnia or not.
Jensen looks up, his brow knit in conflict. Sam can see that he wants to say
yes as clearly as if there were a sign pinned to his faded t-shirt. The loud
hiss-screetch of hydraulic breaks makes Sam look up from Jensen’s face. The boy
hears it too, looking back over his shoulder at the lumbering, crowded bus
pulling up to the curb at the stop across the intersection.
“That’s my bus…” He says softly before looking down at the toes of his scuffed
Chuck Taylor’s again. He looks back up at Sam, a serious expression painted
across his precious, delicate face. “You’ll take me to the Y before my mom gets
off work at eight, right, Sam? Promise?”
“Scout’s honor,” Sam says, raising his hand in the air like he was being sworn
in to testify in court. He sticks with it even though he’s pretty sure it’s
three fingers or something but Sam had a hunter’s life instead of a sash full
of patches. Jensen doesn’t care, he smiles big at Sam and nods, pushing up on
his toes.
“Okay, yes. Let’s go.”
Jensen just made Sam the closest to happy he’s been in the better part of a
year.
                                       ~
Jensen is a lot chattier on the drive to the hotel than he’d been at the bus
stop baking under the Texas sun. He opens to Sam up in a way that says he
probably doesn’t have a strong male role-model in his life. That on top of
being grateful to Sam for saving his skin has clearly impaired Jensen’s pre-
teen judgement.
Jensen’s cocktail of eager, young, damaged, and gorgeous is pushing Sam’s
buttons in ways that only Dean had ever been able to, the Dean who gave Sam
every single one of his firsts. It was like a time machine had picked Sam up
and dropped him back in 1987, thrumming with pent-up desire and lacking a moral
compass.
The Motorlodge parking lot is blissfully empty as Sam pulls the Charger in
front of his room. He keeps an eye out as he ushers Jensen inside, getting him
settled on the king-sized bed with the TV remote before venturing out for ice,
an armful of sodas, and a pile of candy from the vending machines near the
office.
There was apparently an ‘Indiana Jones’ marathon on whatever premium channel
Jensen had flipped the crappy TV to and when Sam gets back he’s sitting on the
bed cross-legged and barefoot in his holey jeans and well-worn Spurs t-shirt
like Sam’s dirtiest wet dream.
Sam dumps the candy on the bed in front of Jensen and sets the ice bucket full
of sodas down on the night stand, slipping his hand into the drawer for the KY
he’d stashed there the night before.
“Sweet, I love Red Vines,” Jensen says, plucking the package from the selection
strewn across the bed as Sam cranks up the AC unit under the window. He pulls
the curtains closed and smiles at Jensen.
“There, is that better? Easier to see, right?” Right….
Jensen shrugs, kicking his legs out in front of him as he takes a bite of red
licorice, chewing happily as Sam moves the other candy onto the night stand
next to the sodas. He sets to taking off his boots and peeling off his socks,
casually stripping out of his shirt in the process and using it to wipe the
sweat off his neck and from under his armpits.
“Fucking hot in Texas,” he says matter-of-factly, winking back at Jensen over
his shoulder. He can feel the boy’s eyes on him – curious, maybe a little awe-
struck. Sam’s like ninety-nine percent sure Jensen’s never seen a grown man
naked, much less one Sam’s size. He’s more in shape than he’s ever been in his
life, tan and rippling like some kind of Grecian hero, a monster slaying
machine. If things went the way they seemed to be, he might have to commit
suicide. Sam shrugs at the thought before settling back against the headboard
next to Jensen. He’d make sure it was worth it.
They watch the movie and drink a full soda each, Sam a Dr. Pepper and Jensen an
A&W Cream Soda. Sam remembers Short Round shouting “Dr. Jones!” when he chases
the sweet, creamy taste of it with his tongue, kissing Jensen until he’s
shaking and breathless.
“You’re being such a good boy, Jensen,” Sam whispers as he kisses up the side
of the boy’s sweaty neck, nipping right under his ear, just enough to make him
whimper a little, his fists balling up in the cheap comforter.
“Did that feel good?” He asks, not really caring what the answer is. “You taste
so good.”
Sam licks up the tendon at the side of Jensen’s neck, pausing to suck briefly
right over his pulse point. He licks the salty-sweet from his lips, his dick
already rock fucking hard for this kid. Jensen’s heart is racing when Sam
slides his hand up the line of his slender leg, over his knee, fingertips
questing up his inner thigh.
“Do you want me to stop?” Sam asks soft and breathy, right up against Jensen’s
ear as his big hand cups the boy’s entire crotch. Jensen’s breath catches in
his throat, his red vine colored tongue slipping out to wet his bottom lip, but
he doesn’t say a word. “Good. That’s good, Jensen. I really don’t wanna stop.”
Sam works Jensen’s jeans open one handed. He was always better at that then
unhooking bras thanks to Dean’s tutelage.
“You ever play with yourself, Jen?” Christ, he’s already using pet names. He
was gone for this kid. Gone as Dean ever was for his Sammy. “Yank on this
pretty little dick? Make yourself come?”
Jensen’s jaw quivers as he nods a weak ‘yes’ for Sam. He’s just a baby,
probably doesn’t even get the mechanics of it all yet. No dad at home to give
him a proper sex talk – not the kind a nurse would give – the kind about making
yourself feel really good. It’s okay, Sam was an excellent teacher, just like
Dean had been.
Sam’s on his knees, blocking the TV now, but Jensen’s eyes are on him and not
the movie as he tugs Jensen’s jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion.
Jensen’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown in the dim hotel room, and his little
cock is standing straight up even if the rest of the kid’s body seems paralyzed
with fear. He helps Jensen tug off his t-shirt before kissing him again, one
hand braced against the bolted-in headboard and the other running down Jensen’s
chest, making goosebumps race down his arms, making his tiny pink nipples hard.
Sam pulls away from Jensen’s mouth, his fat bottom lip trapped between Sam’s
teeth for one final tug before he sets on moving south, down, down, down, until
he’s got the boy’s cock between his lips, tongue sweeping over it. Tastes a
million times better than any sugary sweet from the vending machine. Sam groans
around it, the flavor of little-boy precome a distant but vivid memory, one
ingrained so deep he swears it’s in his DNA. This was the next logical
progression without his real brother nearby to satisfy him. That’s what he
tells himself, anyway.
Sam only knows Jensen comes from the high-pitched, strung-out sounds he makes
and the way his little body tenses up from head to toe under Sam’s much larger
one. His cocklet barely leaks a trickle but he feels Jensen’s bare little balls
seize up against his chin. Sam opens his mouth wider to fit them inside too. He
keeps mouthing at Jensen’s genitals until Sam can only taste his own spit,
until his tiny dick is nothing but a floppy toy for Sam’s over-zealous tongue.
Sam settles back down next to Jensen with a happy hum, wrapping his arm around
the boy’s waist, and pulling him close. He nuzzles up against the side of
Jensen’s neck and rocks his hips closer, letting his hard on rut against
Jensen’s thigh through his jeans.
“Was that okay, Jensen?” Sam asks, forcing sincerity and concern into his tone.
He’s hard enough to cut glass and, while he truly hopes Jensen is having fun,
at this point he’s going to keep going even if the kid starts to cry. He might
even like it more than he’s ready to admit if he actually did.
“Y-yes…” Jensen mumbles, his heart still racing. Sam can feel it.
“Good, I’m glad. You’re being a very good boy for me. The absolute best. But
you know what I want to try?”
“Hm?” Jensen manages, looking into Sam’s eyes as he strokes his long fingers
through the boy’s sun-streaked hair.
“Well,” Sam says softly. “I made you feel good, right? So I thought maybe you
could try to make me feel good too. I mean, that’s fair, don’t you think?”
Jensen nods, holding the eye contact and biting his lip a little. Sam can tell
Jensen isn’t quite sure what that means even though he seems to react pretty
positively to the praise.
“That's right. That's what a good boy would do. And you’re a VERY good boy,
Jensen.”
Sam settles back on the bed, resting his back up against the headboard with his
legs stretched out in front of him.
“What do you think? Think your mouth would look pretty wrapped around this?"
Sam slides his hand from where it’s resting on his knee up between his spread
thighs, cupping the bulge of his cock, and giving it a firm squeeze. Jensen’s
eyes follow his hand and he licks his lips subconsciously. It makes Sam’s dick
lurch uncomfortably against the inside of his zipper. “Do you wanna see it,
Jensen? See what a real man’s cock looks like?”
That’s what makes Jensen finally look away, eyes darting to the floor as his
cheeks go an even deeper pink under that pretty sea of freckles.
“It’s okay to be curious. No one else will ever know,” Sam reassures as he
thumbs open the button on his jeans.
“Just kiss it a little, just like I did for you, and we can stop whenever you
want. Okay, Jenny?"
Jensen does his best once Sam’s jeans are off, abandoned in a pile on the
floor. He climbs between Sam’s long legs and gives him a breathy little whine
as Sam press his thumb into the divot underneath his bottom lip, holding his
jaw open to push the angry purple head of his prick inside.
Sam’s leaking so much that his precome is seeping out of the side of Jensen’s
mouth after just a few clumsy sucks. It feels better than fucking heaven. He
even likes it when Jensen’s sharp little canine teeth drag over him. He has to
reach down to grip the base of his cock hard and rough to keep from unloading
right then and there.
“You know what else good boys do to make men feel good, Jensen?” Sam asks,
meeting Jensen’s eyes as he does his best to suck Sam deeper. He manages to
shake his head, the little muffled sound in his throat tells Sam that Jensen
has very little idea. Anatomy books aren’t the best resource when it comes to
getting fucked.
The boy’s lips are bright red and puffy when he eases Jensen off his cock, like
he’d just eaten a cherry popsicle too quickly. He shakes his head again,
dipping his chin down a little like he’s embarrassed for not knowing.
Sam pulls Jensen up into his lap, stroking his hair again. “I can put it inside
you, Jen. Push it in so it’s way up here, right in your belly.” Sam slides his
palm over the pale, pudgy slip of Jensen’s stomach, his prick throbbing as his
hand eclipses the kid’s entire stomach. “That would make me feel even better
than you using your mouth. It would be a real nice way to pay me back for
letting you come over, for making you feel good before. Should we try it?” Sam
tips his head forward, forcing Jensen to meet eyes. “Show me what a good boy
you can really be?”
Jensen’s thighs are so delicate under Sam’s big, calloused hands, so pliable.
Sam perches Jensen’s plush little ass on his knees, his hand rubbing slow and
gentle up and down Jensen’s thigh as he reaches over and grabs the KY off the
nightstand.
“I’m gonna get it real slick with this stuff. It’ll help it go in, make it
easier to fit.”
Jensen’s eyebrow quirks a little, as skeptical as he should be, but his eyes
stay locked on Sam’s erection. He lubes it up slow, focusing most of the thick
gel on the tip where there’d be the most resistance.
“Is – is it gonna hurt a lot?” Jensen asks, the bright, talkative boy from the
car ride over is long gone. “it’s – it’s so much bigger… than mine.”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna lie to you, kiddo,” a line straight from the lips of Dean
Winchester. “It’s gotta go in right here,” he coos, rubbing two of his thick,
lubed up fingers between Jensen’s bouncy little ass cheeks. “Gonna give me your
cherry and that always hurts, but only for a little while. I promise.” Sam
circles his fingertips over Jensen’s insanely tight pucker. “But, I’m gonna
make you a deal. You get to be in control, okay? Just like before, we can stop
whenever you want. So, if it hurts too much, we can stop. You’ll be on top.
Here,” Sam pulls Jensen forward, coaxing him onto his knees before guiding
Jensen’s hand back to grip Sam’s shaft. His hand feels so fucking small, it
barely makes it all the way around Sam’s girth.
“I’ll guide it in. Just hold it steady and try to push out against it, like
when you’re on the toilet.”
Jensen’s face is pinched with concentration, like Sam has given him some
complicated maneuver he’s trying to memorize. It’s not going to fit, Sam didn’t
even get a finger in the kid yet, but it was going to be so much fun to watch
him try. With a (fake) gentle smile, Sam pulls Jensen forward with one hand and
guides the lubed up head of his erection up snug against his asshole with the
other.
“Push, baby. Try to sit on it, try to let me in.”
His slit is leaking like a faucet and there’s so much lube it’s practically a
joke, the hard, too-thick head of his dick slip-slides over Jensen’s virgin boy
hole just like it would if he was rutting up into his armpit. There might as
well not be any opening there at all. Still, Sam likes the look of stern
concentration on Jensen’s face and the way he’s got his little fist wrapped
around the base of his cock, trying his hardest to get Sam inside.
Sweat starts to bead up on Jensen’s forehead just like it had when they were
out in the afternoon sun and he’s grunting, whimpering, his face red from
trying to push Sam’s impossible girth up into his virgin cunt. Sam strokes his
back, showers him with praise and encouragement, and does his best to hide the
wicked smile on his face when little tears start glistening in the corners of
Jensen’s big, green doe eyes.
"We can stop if you want, Jenny. It’s okay.” It’s not.
“There's lots of other boys I can find who can take it. Promise, it’s okay,
just like I said. We’ll stop." Sam gives the kid a lazy smile, pleased when he
sees the desperation on his sweet face.
"No, no, please, Sam, I can! It's just - it's j-just so big." Jensen’s voice
gets a little higher, he’s rambling, and it sounds like he might start to cry.
“Hey, hey, what if we try something else?” Sam soothes. “How about I do the
pushing this time? You know I’m real strong, I bet I could get it in.”
Jensen bites his bottom lip and nods, those spring-green eyes so wide, so eager
to please. Even if they were glistening with fresh tears.
“Okay, beautiful boy,” Sam says as he moves Jensen over on the bed next to him,
positioning him on his hands and knees and sliding one of the pillows under his
head. “Keep your butt in the air, okay? You can grab onto the pillow and rest
your head on it but you have to keep your ass in the air. That’s the only rule.
Be a good boy, arch that pretty back for me.”
Sam slides his hand down the curve of Jensen’s lower back, coaxing his
shoulders to the bed but keeping his other hand locked firm on his hip.
“Spread your legs, baby. Show me your hole. We’ll get it open, don’t worry.”
God, that pink little furl nearly makes Sam come as soon as he gets his eyes on
it. It’s going to be so tight it’ll keep Sam from blowing his load too fast,
like a built in cock ring.
He wants to lick it, shove his tongue inside, feast on the taste of little boy
ass, but Sam never did like the aftertaste of KY jelly. He would have bought
something special for the occasion if he had known he was going to have
company.
He grabs the tube spreads a thick line of it along the first two fingers of his
right hand.
“Take a deep breath for me, Jenny,” Sam says, still stroking the boy’s flank as
he pushes the tips of his fingers inside. It’s like a tiny pink vice, the boy’s
hole clenches up too-tight around Sam’s thick fingers. Jensen yelps, panting
and shaking, looking back at Jared over his shoulder with panicked eyes.
"Shh, shh. It's okay, Jensen. Just breathe. If you can’t get my fingers in how
are you ever gonna take my cock?”
It would be a miracle if he didn’t rip the boy in half, if he was honest. But
Sam wasn’t very honest these days, not when it came to making his dick happy.
“Hurts –” Jensen whimpers, his voice shuddering, tears ready to flow.
“I know it does, I told you it would, remember? But you’re my good boy, Jenny.
So pretty, so pure. Let me get your little hole opened up. Then you’re gonna
make me feel so, so good.”
Sam shoves in deeper, pressing his other palm between Jensen’s shoulders,
pinning him to the bed as he plows in to the knuckle. The kid is crying,
without a doubt. Sam is a little worried he’s going to piss off the neighbors
once he managed to wedge his dick inside.
Sam watches the clock as the corkscrews his fingers, thrusting in and out of
Jensen’s tight hole, working him open as patiently as he can manage. After five
minutes, the sounds Jensen is making are more like the happy little sobs Sam
wants than the pathetic cries he’d gotten at the start.
“You are gorgeous like this, Jensen. So good for me. I’m so proud of you.”
Jensen moans and bucks back against Sam’s stilled hand, the final gate before
Sam pulls his fingers out and lubes up his dick for the second time. He should
really get a third finger in, work the kid for another ten or fifteen minutes,
but Sam’s dick is a leaking, throbbing mess and he won’t last long as it is.
“Now, Jensen. This is going to hurt. Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” Sam
curls his fingers down, flicking against Jensen’s prostate. The boy yelps,
clutching the pillow and shutting his eyes. “Is that a yes?” Sam chuckles as he
slides his fingers out.
Jensen’s hole is puffy and pink as his mouth was when Sam first laid eyes on
him earlier that afternoon. He fucks his fingertips in a few more times,
watching the tiny little gape it makes when he pulls out. After he’s fucked the
boy, it won’t be nearly so pristine and pretty. Sam should really take a
picture but his phone’s forgotten somewhere on the floor with his jeans and
he’s got a cherry to pop.
He snugs the head of his dick up against that little pucker and pushes, leaning
forward with all his weight and feeding the head inside. He has to slap his
hand over Jensen’s mouth to muffle the scream.
“So fucking tight,” Sam grits out, his hips twitching with restraint. “Come on,
Jenny. Gotta let me all the way in. Like a good boy. Breathe through your nose,
try and relax this little cunt or else it’ll tear.”
Jensen is writhing under his weight, whimpering against his hand, a panting,
crying sniveling mess as Sam deflowers him.
He doesn’t remember crying so much the first time Dean fucked him.
He soothes the boy as best he can, even as he keeps shoving deeper.
“Shh, it’s okay baby, shh. You feel so fucking good, you know that? Feel like
fucking heaven around my cock. You can take it, I know you can.”
It takes a little time but eventually Sam’s entire length is buried deep in
Jensen’s guts. The boy pulses and quivers around him as his little body is
wracked with sobs. He grinds in deep, keeping his pelvis flush with the kid’s
round ass. He could come just like this but it’ll be so much better if he makes
a little room for his balls to empty.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, precious one. Give it up for me, give me that virgin
pussy.”
It only takes a few slow, deep thrusts to get the kid carved out to fit Sam’s
dick. He finally releases the grip he has on the base and grabs Jensen’s hips,
fucking him in earnest. Jensen’s chewing on his bottom lip, his face red and
tear streaked, but he’s taking it so good. God, Sam wished he could fucking
keep him.
Sam is pretty sure he comes harder than he ever has. Well, since Dean was
around anyway. His balls twitch and spurt after spurt is funneled right up into
the kid’s insides, making his thrusts a sloppy, gorgeous mess.
He pulls out quicker than he’d like, knowing how much it hurts from personal
experience. He doesn’t want to fuck the kid up too much. Not yet. It was still
early. Plenty of time to make his little bird sing.
He pulls the trembling boy against his chest, pressing soft kisses all over his
head and shoulders.
“God, Jensen. You made me feel so good. You’re the best, most beautiful boy
I’ve ever seen. Thank you.”
Sam takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, tightening his arms around Jensen
in as close to a gentle embrace as he can manage. Sure, he’s a monster. He
knows it, he proved it today once and for all. But maybe he’d wait on the
suicide for a little while.
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