Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/822837.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-30 Chapters: 2/? Words: 2566
****** Happy Birthday, Big Brother ******
by Morgana
Summary
     Sam meant to surprise Dean for his birthday, but things didn't go
     exactly as planned
***** Chapter 1 *****
Dean stared in amazement at his brother, wondering if he'd gone crazy or just
gotten some really good drugs. "Uh, Sam?"

Sam whirled around, then swore when chocolate sauce splattered over him from
the spoon he dropped in the bowl he was holding. "Shit! Sorry, but you
shouldn't sneak up on me."

Dean's eyes dropped to the droplets that dotted Sam's neck and chest. He
wondered where his shirt had gotten off to, and why he wasn't freezing his ass
off with just his jeans on. "Yeah, I can see that. You, uh, mind telling me why
you're playing Naked Chef on me, there, Sammy boy?"

His cheeks flushed. "It was supposed to be a surprise," he mumbled. "I was
trying to make you a birthday cake, you know, like the one you got me when I
was ten."

That cake had been conned out of a baker at the local grocery store, but he
wasn't about to tell Sam about that now. "Fair enough. But isn't it usually a
good idea to keep your shirt on while you're cooking."

"I got flour all over it, and it's too hot in here with the oven preheating to
get another one." Sam was almost bright red now, and Dean couldn't keep from
laughing. "Shut up, it's not funny!"

"Oh, I beg to differ," Dean chortled. "This is priceless, man. I totally need
to get you a frilly little apron for the next time you wanna play Betty
Crocker."

Sam glared at him. "Bite me." They'd been lucky to score a place with a fully
stocked kitchen this time around, although Dean hadn't really expected to see
any of them doing more cooking than heating up the usual canned goods they
lived off of when they weren't on the road. He had to say, it was kind of cool
to see Sam scraping the chocolate mixture out into a pan and shoving it into
the oven, and he realized he probably shouldn't have teased him about taking
that home ec class last semester.

Yanking the fridge open, Dean leaned in to grab a beer for himself and a soda
for Sam. He passed the can to his brother and dug his keys out of his pocket,
using the opener on his keyring to pop the cap off his bottle. "So, what's with
the Suzy Homemaker deal, anyway? Not like I haven't made it through a couple
dozen birthdays without this kinda junk." 

"I dunno, it's just -" Sam shrugged. "Turning 21, it just seems like it should
be a big deal, doesn't it?"

"I guess. Might be more excited about it if I hadn't spent the last 5 years
goin' to bars whenever I felt like it," Dean replied with a smirk. "But hey,
anytime you feel like channeling your inner Julia Child, go right ahead. Of
course, you might wanna rethink the whole 'chocolate taking the place of an
actual shirt' thing next time."

Sam's ears turned bright red. "Shut up," he muttered, glancing down at the
splattered chocolate. He grabbed his shirt off the counter and swiped at his
chest, mostly succeeding in just smearing it around rather than actually
cleaning up in any real way.

Dean's gaze followed every swipe of the shirt, and he swallowed hard, tamping
down on the sudden urge to lean forward and lick the chocolate off his
brother's skin. Luckily, Sam seemed too involved with his clean-up to notice
anything strange in the long drink he took of his beer. Instead, he looked up
and gave Dean a slightly lopsided grin. "So... I thought we could order a
pizza, maybe some hot wings, and watch some videos while we have your cake? I
got Terminator and T2..."

He stared down at his beer, not willing to look up at the hopeful expression he
knew was written all over Sam's face. "I, uh, I can't. Some of the guys at work
found out that it was my birthday and they, uh, they wanted to take me out for
a few beers."

"Oh." There was a world of disappointment in that single word, almost enough to
make Dean wish he hadn't agreed to go out to the bar with Mike and his buddies.
"Yeah, okay."

Dean sighed and set his beer down. "Look, Sammy -"

"No, it's okay. I'll save you some cake," Sam promised. He turned the faucet on
full-blast, drowning out anything else Dean might've been going to say. There
was no dealing with him when he was pouting like that, so Dean shook his head
and headed down the hallway to get ready.

Dammit, why'd Sammy have to pick this year to go all out for his birthday? They
didn't usually make a big deal of it, which was why he hadn't really thought
twice when Rick and the other guys asked him to go to the bar with them. But
apparently he'd managed to screw up Sam's plans, which meant he was gonna be a
little emo bitch about it for days now. Well, at least it should be easy to
keep his hands off him - sulking had never really been one of Dean's turn-ons.

Chocolate, though... that was something else entirely. As he stepped into the
shower, Dean let his mind drift back over the way Sam had looked, shirtless and
dappled with chocolate. His hand reached for the soap before it automatically
slid down to curl around his hardening cock, slowly teasing himself to a full
erection. He thought about his earlier desire to lick the chocolate off, about
laying Sam out and drizzling more over him - all over him - only to lick him
clean again. He'd taste good, too - a mixture of salt from his skin and sweet
from the chocolate, and Dean just knew he wouldn't be able to keep quiet under
the assault. The ghostly sound of Sam's moans and hitching cries rang in his
ears as he pumped himself faster, hand sliding over his dick as it grew slick
with soap and precome.

Jerking off in the shower was nothing new; hell, jerking off to thoughts
of Sam wasn't new, but he'd always been able to confine himself to fantasies
alone before today. But whether it was the chocolate, the earnest look in his
brother's eyes, or the fact that he'd actually gone and baked him a birthday
cake, of all things, Dean had been hard-pressed not to act on some of those
desires that he'd spent the past few years trying to hide. And maybe it had
been wishful thinking, but there had been a minute there, when Sam mentioned
his plans for the night, that it seemed like Dean's fantasies weren't
necessarily an impossibility after all- which made going out to the bar an even
better idea.

But at least now he could let it play out, imagine what it would've been like
to lick his brother clean, starting at the chest and moving down until he was
on his knees and Sam's dick was right there in front of him... "Fuck," he
gasped, one hand shooting out to brace against the wall as his orgasm slammed
into him and he came in white-hot spurts that splattered down onto the tile
floor at his feet. "Oh, fuck, yeah!"

Once he felt capable of moving again, Dean finished washing up and turned the
shower off, drying and dressing quickly. He still had about an hour before he
was supposed to be at the bar, but after the problems he'd had controlling
himself in the kitchen, he thought it was probably better spend grabbing a
burger than hanging around here. Of course, one look at Sam's puppy dog eyes on
the way out pretty much killed his appetite, even if he told himself that he'd
make it up to him tomorrow - maybe they'd go ahead and have that pizza and
movie night he'd wanted. Not like one night off ever hurt anybody, and if it
would cheer Sam up... well, Dean was supposed to be taking care of the kid,
right?
***** Chapter 2 *****
Sam was asleep in his bed when he got back from the bar. Nothing too unusual
there - he often crawled in with Dean when he'd had a bad dream or just wanted
a little extra closeness. And apparently even being an asshole who spent his
birthday with strangers wasn't enough to change that, although another twinge
of guilt slid through him at the thought of the cake he hadn't been there to
eat. He really was a crap brother, sometimes.
"Dean?" He looked down to see Sam blinking drowsily up at him, eyes as wide as
a baby owl's, and at least twice as adorable.
"Shhh, it's just me. Go back to sleep, Sammy."
He sighed and snuggled down into his pillow. "Mmmkay."
Dean smiled and ran a hand over his brother's hair, then stripped his shirt and
jeans off. He pulled the covers back to get into bed, and froze at the sight in
front of him. Sam might've climbed into his bed because he was lonely, but
apparently he'd had some other motivations as well, because he was naked. And
Sam didn't sleep naked. At least, he didn't on those nights that he slept in
Dean's bed.
But tonight he was obviously making an exception. And Dean had had just a few
too many drinks to remind himself that he wasn't supposed to stare at his
little brother like that, especially when Sam shifted and murmured, "Come to
bed, Dean."
The words hit him like a baseball bat to the stomach. For the last year and a
half, Dean had been aware of a growing sense of his brother, and he'd found
himself thinking more and more of doing things he knew he shouldn't, of pinning
Sammy down and licking his way down the stomach that was getting toned enough
to make his mouth water, or using his hands to find out if the developing
muscles he saw on his brother were as hard as they looked. And now... God, now
he had Sammy naked in his bed, and there was no way he could kick him out, not
when he opened his eyes and gave him a smile that looked like an invitation to
sin.
"God, Sammy," he choked out. He set one knee on the bed, and he wasn't sure if
Sam raised his arm up to him or he fell down onto him, but the next thing he
knew, he was stretched out half on top of his brother, and their faces were
close enough that he could feel warm, minty breath washing over him. He closed
the distance until their lips met, soft and wet and so sweet that it nearly
broke his heart. Kissing a girl had never been like this, like he could spend
the rest of his life doing just this and feel absolutely content.
They traded light kisses for what felt like hours, until Sam's tongue slipped
out to wet his lips and brushed over Dean's instead. Like a spark to tinder,
the tiny flicker set him on fire, and soon his tongue was inching out to meet
Sam's, stroking it and enticing it into his mouth so he could suck on it. Sam
moaned, a faint, slightly surprised sound, and Dean wondered if this was his
brother's first kiss. He wasn't about to stop long enough to ask, however,
especially when Sam shifted on the bed, legs parting easily for the knee Dean
instinctively slid between them.
Dean was harder than he'd ever been, and he could feel Sam's dick pressing
against his hip. He wanted to reach down and take hold of him, wanted to curl
his fingers around it and jerk him off, but he couldn't seem to stop kissing
Sam long enough to do it, so he settled on nudging Sam's legs further apart to
make a place for himself. Driving his tongue into Sam's mouth, Dean moved over
his brother, coming down full-length on top of him, groaning as his dick slid
against Sam's.
He didn't wait for Sam to agree, just pushed against him, rubbing their dicks
together. Sam was already slick with precome, so wet that Dean could feel it
sinking into his underwear to wet his own dick underneath. He was getting wet
himself, and he knew he needed to do something if he didn't want this to be
over with in about two strokes. When Sam's hand started moving down his side,
Dean tore his mouth away long enough to catch it and yank it up over his head,
doing the same with the other so he had his brother fully pinned beneath him.
Sam stared up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, as he began to grind against
him, a slow, teasing circle that had made his last girlfriend swear in two
different languages. Its effect on Sam was even better, because soon he was
whining, soft and high in the back of his throat, arching up and thrusting
against him in return. Dean brushed a light kiss over his mouth and nibbled on
his lower lip, tightening his grip when Sam pushed against his hands.
He did his best to draw it out, but he'd wanted this for too long, fantasized
about it for too long, and from the increasingly frantic noises that were
coming from his brother, he wasn't the only one. Dean's underwear was soon
soaked, turning the cotton barrier between them to almost nothing as they moved
together, the bed creaking under them as they began to pick up speed. Sam
squirmed underneath him, thrusting up against him with soft moans that were
unraveling him little by little.
"Dean..." Sam panted, a needy, pleading note in his voice that Dean had never
heard before. He was gasping like he'd run ten miles, Dean's name escaping from
him with every hoarse breath. "Dean, Dean, Dean... ohhhhh, God, Dean..."
"Yeah, Sammy, yeah," he growled. "C'mon, come for me, Sammy. Wanna feel it,
wanna watch you. That's it, Sammy, lemme have it." He barely recognized his own
voice as he panted hot words out against Sam's mouth, spewing the kind of filth
that he'd only heard before in the rawest pornos.
The effect was instantaneous. Sam arched up against him with a thin, keening
cry that was one of the hottest things Dean had ever heard. His wrists would
probably bruise tomorrow with how hard Dean was holding them, bearing his
weight down on them while he humped his little brother, but he didn't care
about that now. Right now the only thing that mattered was the way Sam's cock
pulsed as he shot between them, hot liquid splattering over bare skin and
soaking into cloth.
Dean could feel every spurt like it was his own dick shooting and not Sam's,
and he lasted only a few more thrusts before he was grunting and coming as
well, soaking his underwear as what felt like a gallon's worth of hot, sticky
come pumped out. He hadn't come that hard in... well, ever, and when it was
over, he barely had the strength to move over to one side before he collapsed.
Alcohol and sex took their toll, leaving him only distantly aware of Sam
pulling his ruined underwear off, wiping him off with the sheet, and crawling
in beside him before he blacked out.
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