Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/307988.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Original_Male_Character(s), Dean_Winchester/Original
      Female_Character(s), Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Alastair/Dean
      Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, Bobby
  Additional Tags:
      Rape/Non-con_References, Dubious_Consent, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt_Dean
      Winchester, Hurt
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-12-30 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 4386
****** Five Times Dean Gave, and One He Took ******
by hanyou_elf
Summary
     Dean is a master of giving things up to get what he needs.
Notes
     Dean/OMC, underage explicit content in this chapter, Dean is 14. It
     is non-consensual.
***** 1 *****
The first time that Dean Winchester has sex, he’s fourteen. It’s not like it’s
a terrible experience but it does hurt. But, Dean figures that shoving
something up his butt is supposed to hurt. He doesn’t cry even though he
bleeds.
Mr. Somerset is always so nice to him. He tells Dean that he’s special. That
Dean deserves the help that he’s being given. And sometimes, the help has to be
repaid. Dad’s already explained the concept to him- reciprocity. To get
something, you have to give something. He needs to pass this year so he can be
a junior, but he can’t pass without the help. English and literature have
always been his hardest subject.
So when Mr. Somerset offers to tutor him, Dean can’t resist. He learns what he
needs to learn, but while he’s doing it, then Mr. Somerset is touching him.
They stay at school for a while, until Mr. Somerset decides that it will be
easier to teach Dean in his own home.
Dean explains away the longer days at school with a simple excuse to Dad. He’s
being tutored, being tutored means that he’s going to be late coming home. Dad
doesn’t like it, but he accepts it, has no choice but to do so. Dean doesn’t
tell Dad that they’re in Mr. Somerset’s home, and he’s not really sure about
why, but he knows that he shouldn’t.
When Mr. Somerset makes Dean suck his dick the first time, he thinks he might
gag and choke on it. Mr. Somerset isn’t gentle about what he’s doing. He
doesn’t try to make things easier for Dean. He holds onto the short hair at the
back of Dean’s head and just rocks his hips, pushing the hard flesh deeper into
his throat. It’s disgusting. Dean doesn’t know what to do, and just when he
feels like he’s about to gag and throw up, his throat constricts and Mr.
Somerset grunts and comes.
Dean is disgusted by the thick heat that slides down his throat. Mr. Somerset
pets his head and sends him home, like it’s something normal, for the older
man. The things continue on for a while, for nearly two months. Dean gets
better at learning to suck dick. He can even swallow without gagging when Mr.
Somerset comes. He can swallow the man down deeper. But that doesn’t satisfy
the man for long. Eventually, Mr. Somerset wants more.
Dean doesn’t stop him. He’s been passing all of his classes, and he’s doing
well and he doesn’t want to give that up. So when the end of the year comes
closer and the finals come up, Dean knows that the yearly review is going to be
difficult. It’s going to take more of Mr. Somerset’s time, and he has to give
more of himself.
Mr. Somerset takes him home as usual and in a show of difference, he takes Dean
to the bedroom. Dean doesn’t know what he’s going to be expected to do, but Mr.
Somerset is quick to tell him, to teach him. He has Dean get naked and kneel on
the bed. He braces himself on his hands and knees with his head bowed. He
clenches his eyes shut tight and waits with anticipation.
Mr. Somerset whispers nice words that are supposed to sooth Dean while he
pushes his fingers into the teen’s body, stretching them. His fingers are wet
and cold. They push into his body and stretch his ass out, opening him for Mr.
Somerset. This is new. He doesn’t know how to react to the feeling of disgust
that permeates everything.
“So good for me, Dean,” Mr. Somerset breathes into Dean’s naked back. “This is
going to hurt, but I want you to be as quiet as possible and I want you to take
it. I know you can.”
Dean nods and the fingers pull free from his body. Dean doesn’t stop the sigh
of relief. It’s short-lived though because Mr. Somerset replaces them with
something thicker, hotter, and still covered in the cold wetness. There’s a
heavy hand braced in the small of his back and Dean wants to scream as he’s
torn apart.
The only thing that saves him is the training with Dad. Dad taught him to
compartmentalize injuries, to allow him time to get somewhere else for
treatment. Dean breathes and forces his tight body to relax. It feels like he’s
being ripped apart. Mr. Somerset’s dick is hard and unyielding. He has no mercy
as he bottoms out. Pausing for just long enough to gasp, he sets a rhythm
that’s hard to keep.
He rides Dean’s ass and pets his back and thighs. When he finally comes, Dean
sobs in relief. Mr. Somerset hadn’t worn a condom and now his ass is filled
with the older man’s come. The shit burns as he coats the muscles that were
stretched too little.
“We’ll work on that. You did well for your first time. A little studying and
some hands-on practice, and you’ll be brilliant,” Mr. Somerset advises.
When he pulls out, there’s an honest to God pop.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Dean/OFC explicit content. Dean is underage (16) and it is consensual
     sex.
The first time Dean has sex with a girl, he's sixteen. For the past year, Dad's
been teasing him about his lack of female companionship. He's given Dean the
talk and encouraged his oldest son to enjoy female companionship, as long as
does so respectfully and safely.
Dean doesn't know how to tell his father he's not a virgin. He doesn't know how
to explain how dirty he feels, how he doesn't want to make another person feel
like this.
It's not compassion that drives him to his solitude, its shame.
Dean likes girls enough. They are pretty. But they don't offer anything. Not
like men do. Men his Dad knows nothing about.
It's easier to pretend hesitancy, rather than explaining the lack of
reciprocity.
But Dad's adamant that Dean learn intimately about girls, so Dean does what his
father wants.
When Dean finds a woman he's confident enough to pursue, he understands that
she's a whore. She sells her body to men. Dean knows he won't make her dirty.
She kisses his shoulder and neck while her hands slide over his body. She
teases him and it's more than he could've expected.
She gets them both naked quickly. There's a wink as she climbs into his lap.
"You just let me take care of you," she promises.
Her hand is warm as it slides the condom down his dick. His eyes close as she
touches him.
"Now you watch this," she says.
She kisses at his lips, nothing serious, just pressing her lips to Dean's,
teasing. She arches her back. With an arm braced against Dean's knee, she
slides her fingers down and between her legs.
"Watch me, baby," the whore murmurs. She crooks her fingers and thrusts her
hips into them. "Play with us here."
Dean follows her directions and slides a finger in with her hand. She's wet and
hot. Something that he's not particularly fond of, but she clenches her eyes
shut and bites her bottom lip. Dean likes that, it's sexy and vulnerable.
He slips his finger as far into her body as he can from the awkward angle and
strokes her. She's slick.
Before he can get too used to the smooth inner canals, she takes his finger and
pulls it up to the apex of her crotch.
She drags the tip of his finger over a surprisingly stiff bump. She gasps and
jerks against him. As she moves, moisture drags across his naked thigh.
"That's good, baby. Now, fuck me," she demands breathily.
She lifts herself and grips his dick at the base. His hands brace against her
hips and support her as she lowers herself, sliding his dick deep into her
body.
He knows what it feels like to have a hard dick pushed into his body, splitting
him open. He knows how much it hurts, but she looks like she's enjoying it.
She grips his shoulders and uses the hold to rock in his lap, fucking herself
deep and hard on him. He's not sure he likes this, but damned if it doesn't
feel amazing.
It doesn't take long before he's on the boarder of orgasm. She clenches tight
around him as she rides him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Her hand slides back down to her clit and she rubs herself hard and fast.
He comes in a blinding rush of white. She rocks a little bit longer before she
gasps and stops, resting against him.
"You did good, baby," she murmurs against his lips.
Dean blushes and looks away as she pulls off of his softening dick. She drags
the condom with her, ties it off and tosses it before he can react.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Dean/Sam explicit content. Both are consenting adults, although it
     can be read as dubious consent.
The last time Dean has sex, he has seventeen hours and twenty-two minutes
before the hounds of hell come calling for him. He isn’t counting though. If he
counts, then he knows that Sammy’s counting the minutes and the hours. He
doesn’t want the last bit of time he has with his little brother to be spent
counting down the seconds until Hell rips them apart.
Instead, he does something that he knows that he’s good at. He gets Sammy nice
and loose and relaxed and then lets his baby brother fuck him. He doesn’t want
complete preparation either. He wants it hard and fast and painful. Something
he hasn’t had since Sammy convinced him that they having sex together was a
good idea.
Men don’t like to share their investments. They don’t want others to play with
toys that belong to them. And Dean isn’t stupid. He belongs to Sammy.
So he does what he’s supposed to do. Reciprocity.
Sammy gets Dean’s ass, and Dean gets the satisfaction that Sammy isn’t dead.
It’s really not that big of a deal. And worse men have been up his ass.
“Fuck me, Sammy,” Dean demands as he rocks his naked hips against Sammy’s. He’s
got him pinned against the wall in the shower. A brief respite from fruitless
searching. His hands tangle in Sammy’s too long wet hair, pulling gently as he
angles his brother’s head for the perfect kiss. He knows that he shouldn’t slow
down Sammy’s canine persistence, but he doesn’t want Sammy to be burned out
completely afterwards.
Sammy must be desperate with the time running out on the whole situation.
Normally, Sammy doesn’t want to push past anything that Dean’s not completely
interested in. They haven’t had sex yet because when Sammy plays with Dean’s
ass, his dick limps out. It’s embarrassing, considering the reputation he’s got
as a horndog.
Sammy’s lips claim his in a powerful and hungry kiss. His long arms wrap around
Dean and pulls him tight against his muscular body. He lifts Dean, like his
older brother weighs nothing. His paws travel the length of Dean’s body,
tracing the contours of the imperfect vessel he was born into. His back arches
when Sammy’s teeth nibble at Dean’s lower lip and the nails on his hands dig
into the sensitive skin of his ass.
They aren’t gentle. This is love making. This is desperation. Release and
reassurance. Sammy’s prep is cursory, his thick fingers move quickly and before
Dean can catch his breath, Sammy’s pushing in. His body stretches as it gives
way to Sammy’s invading dick and even though it hurts more than Dean had
anticipated, he’s not going to stop this.
Sammy’s eyes flutter closed and his head falls onto Dean’s shoulder when he
bottoms out. Dean groans. He’s torn by the perfect feel of Sammy blanketing his
body and the pain that he’d never associated with his brother but is more than
his due. He wraps his arms around Sammy’s thick neck and uses it as leverage.
A breathy groan that he’s learned to make sexy rather than painful, he rolls
his hips along Sammy’s and moves the dick within him. It’s teasing. Mr.
Somerset used to tell him that he was perfect at this. That he knew exactly how
to clench his body and move his hips to create the best ride. Because he was so
good at it, Mr. Somerset had always said he was made for it.
Dean uses his only talent as a whore to bring Sammy over the edge. His long
body shakes and his hazel eyes fall closed as he clings to Dean and fucks into
him. Dean kisses his brother with a hunger designed to distract and rocks down
onto Sammy. When he’s buried as deep as he can go, Dean clenches his muscles
and reverses his movements, dragging the vice grip along the length and
stopping at the head.
Sammy groans hot and dirty into his ear and explodes.
Dean breathes a contented sigh and relaxes as Sammy does. He doesn’t need to
get off. He didn’t really want to. Sammy’ll be pissed about it, but Dean
doesn’t care. He wanted to be broken open on Sammy’s dick before the demons
came to take him.
“Fuck Dean,” Sammy groans as he pulls his slowly softening dick free. They
stand forehead to forehead for a long minute while Sammy regains his breath.
When his eyes slide open, Dean knows the minute he sees. “Dean?” Sammy asks
with confusion and fear in his shaky voice.
“I wanted it!” Dean protests. “I wanted you.”
"You’re not… Dean, you weren’t hard. You didn’t get off.”
“Yes I did. Just, not like you. ‘M’a whore. Getting you off like that makes me
happy.”
“It was never supposed to be like that!” Sammy protests as he wraps his long
arms around Dean’s body. Dean holds him, comforts and protects like a good big
brother should.
There are sixteen hours and forty nine minutes left before the Hellhounds come
calling.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Dean and Bobby, no sexual content except for implications. Also, bed-
     wetting.
The first night Dean sleeps after his miraculous return from Hell, he wets the
couch. Bobby was more than generous in giving him clothing, food, and rest and
Dean ruined the gift by pissing himself like a toddler.
He's not sure what he's supposed to do so he improvises. He strips the couch
carefully and leaves the damp cushion leaning against the door. How he'll get
clean he doesn't know, but he has to try.
Bobby's been too good.
When Bobby wakes in the morning, he finds his couch stripped and the cushions
sat carefully around the first floor. And finally, he finds Dean, curled naked
in his tub with a blanket for a pillow.
Dean knows he should feel ashamed about what happened, and he does. But
stronger than even that, Dean is terrified he's back in Hell. He waits for the
proverbial shoe to drop. For Alistair his lord and master, to take him in hand
and remind Dean of his place.
It doesn’t happen. Instead, Bobby calls him an idjit and covers him modestly
with a towel. Dean is left reeling. He doesn’t talk, unsure of himself after so
long. And Dean is a good boy.
“Dean,” Bobby says carefully. “You know you’re top-side. Ain’t nothing
happ’nin’ less you want it to.”
Dean just nods. Sometimes, it’s just easier to do what the illusion says. He
wraps his bare arms around his naked chest. A gasp escapes as his hand finds
the cut in his left arm. It isn’t unbearable pain. In fact, Dean could ignore
it completely if he chose.
In Hell, his whole arm would've been ripped off.
"Bobby?" he asks softly, desperately.
The older man sighs wearily. "Tha's right, son. C'mon back."
"M'sorry," Dean whispers, gesturing behind himself at the covers. His voice is
full of fear and shame and self-loathing.
“Not the worst thing that’s ever spilled on ‘em,” Bobby reassures gruffly. “Get
dressed and we’ll find Sam.”
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Dean/OMC non explicit sexual content. Implied past non-con. Hurt Dean
     and comforting Sam.
The first time Dean tries to have sex after Hell is a spectacular failure. He
knows he doesn't deserve any special favors. He was a whore once and it should
be easy to pick it up again
He finds a man who's interested. He's been drinking far too much and isn't
thinking very clearly. He doesn't want to be fucked by this man aliased Peter.
But he needs to know he can secure funds.
So he lets Peter escort him to the bathroom. Let's the man shove his pants down
to his ankles before opening his own. Peter's dick is hard. Flushed red at the
tip and long enough that Dean knows he's going to feel it.
There's an almost crippling rush of fear at what he's about to let happen, but
he won't back down. Peter's hands on his hips ground Dean even as they turn
him.
Peter doesn’t care that Dean is terrified. He doesn’t care that Dean doesn’t
want this anymore. When he’s satisfied with their states of undress, he pulls
Dean back, ass to dick.
Dean shudders at the reality of his situation. He’s consented, even if he’s
hesitantly terrified now.
Peter rubs along the crease of Dean’s ass, hot hands wrapped around his hips.
Dean knows he should stop this. He keeps seeing Alistair, pressing tight and
hard and impossible against him on the rack.
Mr. Somerset pushing his small body into a wall at the end of the school year
and using him mindlessly.
All the countless men who have just used him, the broken and fucked out toy
that he’s always known himself to be. It comes as no surprise when Peter starts
to push his slick dick into Dean without prepping him.
They’d made advances at each other all night. Dean braces himself against the
bathroom wall and hangs his head. He doesn’t want this, but it’s too late.
Alistair, Mr. Somerset, and Dad have all drilled it into him to finish what he
starts. And he’s terrified, but he’ll finish this through. Even if it rips him
apart. Peter pushes deep and it’s too much for Dean. He groans and unwillingly,
his body tenses, reacting instinctively to the pain.
“C’mon sweetheart, relax,” Peter begs. He can’t hold himself still and his hips
continue to thrust shallowly as he rubs Dean’s stomach, his back, and his
strained shoulders.
Dean’s ashamed of the tears tracking down his face. He wants to pull off and
gut this unobservant asshole, but he won’t. His saving grace comes
accidentally.
Some drunken man stumbles into the bathroom. He takes a good long look at
Dean’s face and the heavy man behind him before he puts placating hands up
before he stumbles back out, stupid grin on his face.
It feels like an eternity, and Peter has worked himself in deeper, before
somebody else comes in.
It’s Sammy, and he’s pissed as hell.
“Be real easy and pull out of him now,” Sammy growls as he invades their space.
Strong arms wrap tight around Dean and pull him against the solid chest of his
baby brother and former lover. Dean goes willingly enough. He’s done here, has
been since it started, but Peter wasn’t.
“We’re just starting,” Peter whines breathlessly.
“Rape.”
The word echoes around the room. Peter’s body tenses and he puts his hands low
on Dean’s body. “He consented. He hit me up.”
“Well he ain’t now. Pull out and get gone.”
He’s none too gentle as he hurries to obey. Dean can’t blame him. Sammy’s voice
is deep and intimidating. He is a frightening visage. Dean flinches as the head
of Peter’s dick pulls out.
Sammy makes a disgusted noise and pulls Dean completely against him in a tight
grip. “Were you too stupid to wear a fucking condom? If you’ve got something, I
will hunt you down,” Sammy promises darkly. Dean flinches against Sammy’s
chest.
Peter says nothing. He buttons himself up and grunts something disgustedly
before he stalks out of the bathroom.
“Damnit Dean,” Sammy sighs angrily. “What were you thinking?”
Dean doesn’t answer. He clenches his hands in Sammy’s shirt and bows his head.
There’s far too much to say and not enough words.
“I thought you didn’t want to fuck anymore,” Sammy murmurs softly. “You have to
talk to me.”
“M’gonna throw up,” he mutters. Sammy lets him go and he stumbles into a stall,
retching.
Sammy comes in behind him and rubs his back. He pulls his pants up as much as
he can at this angle and offers him the smallest amount of dignity that he can
offer his brother.
Sammy comforts him as much as possible. Strokes his hair, and his back. He
kisses Dean’s shoulder and back.
“Fuck me,” Dean begs. His voice breaks and trembles as he speaks to the toilet.
His body shivers as he braces against the floor, holding himself up shakily.
“Not until you’re ready.”
“I’m fuckin’ ready,” Dean sobs.
Sammy slides a hand up Dean’s back and into the hair at the base of his skull.
He grips tightly at the short hair and pulls Dean back.
They cuddle together on the bathroom floor. Dean’s obscene with his jeans low
on his hips, limp dick exposed against his denim covered thigh. He doesn’t let
it stop him from leaning into Sammy’s comfortingly familiar embrace.
Sammy falls back to sit on his ass and pulls Dean into his lap. Long arms wrap
around his chest and hold him. Sammy’s not hard against his ass, and even
though he’s demanding to be used, he can’t deny that he’s relieved.
“Let’s go,” Sammy breathes against Dean’s ear.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     Dean/Sam explicit sexual content, consensual. Hurt/Comfort and fluff,
     as broken Winchesters do it.
The first time he and Sammy have sex after Hell, Dean is happy to admit that
he’s excited. He’s into the prospect and the idea that he’ll be able to ride
Sammy’s hard dick again. He wants to be split open in his brother’s lap, held
tight and moved forcibly with the power of Sammy’s body.
He can’t remember the last time he actually wanted to be fucked. It seems like
an eternity ago.
Sammy can’t deny him this time though. He doesn’t want to repay a debt in the
best way he knows how. He doesn’t want to make amends for some perceived wrong.
He just wants to be held down- or pushed against a wall- and fucked. He wants
to be ridden hard and put up wet.
When Sammy comes back to the hotel after a food run, Dean is naked. He’s
splayed wantonly on the bed, knees lifted as he shows his body off. He’s gained
the weight he lost when he tried to kill himself drinking. His muscle tone’s
back to what he’d like to consider normal. He knows he looks good. He hasn’t
been blind to the want in men and women’s eyes. He’s got a hand behind his
head, so his chest and his muscles are shown off, and the other hand is low on
his stomach, resting just about the jut of his semi-hard dick.
“Fuck,” Sammy groans.
The food is discarded thoughtlessly atop the complimentary table in their motel
room and Sammy pulls his shirt off. His chest and stomach are sculpted
perfection and Dean wants to trace each dip and ridge to his satisfaction. He
wants the taste of Sammy to explode across his tongue. He wants it to be the
only thing he remembers.
“That’s the idea,” Dean grins cockily. He pulls Sammy down tight against him,
rocks his hips demandingly up into Sammy’s body and lets the situation speak
for itself.
“You’re sure?” Sammy asks, breathless. Moving as he speaks above Dean.
“Fuck me,” Dean whispers as he drags his lips across Sammy’s neck and shoulder.
There are little words left after that. Sammy presses Dean down into the bed
and claims his mouth. The kiss is hungry. Sammy more than kisses, he devours
like he wants to taste every nuance he can find in Dean’s mouth. His hands roam
Dean’s naked body and encourage silently as his brother arches and moans into
his mouth.
Denim covered hips rock against him and Dean blindly searches for the button
and zipper, intent on pulling the offending material off. Sammy can’t fuck him
if he’s clothed. He pulls Sammy’s dick out of the confining fabric and rubs,
hard and teasing. He wants Sammy now.
“C’mon,” he begs with no small amount of desperation in his voice. “Fuck me
hard,” he demands. He pushes his hips up into Sammy’s and grunts at the feel of
them being dick to dick again for the first time in four decades. He wants it
too much. “I’m ready. Just, push in.”
“Dean,” Sammy pants against his lips. “Prep. Lube. Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Did it already. Wanted to be ready,” he answers. He arches his back the way he
knows Sammy likes it, cradles his little brother’s hips in his spread legs, the
way he knows Sammy likes it, and demands satisfaction the way he knows Sammy
likes.
“Fuck Dean,” Sammy groans. He’s too gentle when he grips himself at the base of
his dick and holds the firm globes of Dean’s ass apart with the other. The
entry is a slick, tight glide of coming home. Dean’s eyes slide shut in
perfection as he rocks into the tentative thrusts that breach him. Sammy
doesn’t want to hurt him, has never wanted to seriously hurt him. But Dean
needs harder. He won’t demand it though. He knows that Sammy is doing his best.
They rock together, hips knocking together as they race toward the finish. Dean
won’t last long, and he knows Sammy won’t either. Dean wraps a hand around his
own dick and strokes in tandem with Sammy’s thrusts.
It’s over almost too quickly. Dean hasn’t been with anyone since his return;
Sammy since Ruby’s death. Sammy’s seed is hot as it coats him. Brands him.
Dean grunts as he arches his back and comes, filling the space between them
with the hot slick of his own semen.
When he can breathe again, Dean clings to Sammy. He holds him tight, lets him
know that he’s relieved to have had this moment. That he has his lover again.
The tears come unbidden and completely without permission. He trembles as he
clings to his brother, holding tight to him as he lets go. When he’s done he
feels not whole, but definitely on the way in a positive direction.
“Love you, jerk.”
“Bitch,” Dean mumbles into Sammy’s shoulder.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!