Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/230343.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Wincest_-_Freeform, Weechesters, Oral_Fixation, Amulet
      Fic
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-07-29 Words: 3740
****** Hard-Won Inches ******
by BewareTheIdes15
Summary
     Dean’s developed this thing lately where he likes to touch Sam’s
     mouth while he has the amulet in there, fingers tracing so gently it
     almost tickles, around the little pouty spot where the cord
     disappears between Sam’s lips. It’s kind of weird, but probably not
     weirder than the fact that Sam’s ten and still sucks on his brother’s
     necklace to go to sleep at night.
Notes
     Written for the Summer 2011 Blindfold_spn round for the prompt "Sam
     just loves taking Dean's amulet into his mouth. Sucks at it every
     time he wakes up from his nightmares and Dean has to hug him and
     comfort him. Or when they are sparing and Dean pins him to the ground
     and the amulet just hangs from Dean's neck, dangling just in front of
     Sam's face. Would be awesome if it could be different moments in
     time. 6y old Sam up to late teens. If it leads to sex is up to the
     writer. Bonus if there could be some neck licking involved. The damn
     thing hangs around Dean's neck after all." I went a little off-book.
The first time, the very first, start of it all, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s
the middle of March, in the middle of Maine, which isn’t very much fun even
when Sam doesn’t feel like he’s going to throw up from the weird squirmy thing
his tummy is doing. The only thing the heater in the corner has given them so
far is the stench of burning wires, so he’s wrapped up tight around Dean in
their bed pretending it’s so he can keep warm.
It so much worse now than it used to be when Dad didn’t show up when he said he
was going to. Because now Sam knows. Knows about the things out there and what
his dad is doing and how he might not ever come back. Sometimes he wishes he
had never dragged the truth out of his brother just so he wouldn’t have to
think about it, but mostly he’s glad that he did because as bad as this feels,
it would be worse if he was feeling it all by himself the way Dean has had to
for years. If it can make things a little better for Dean, it’s worth feeling
like he’s going to be sick.
Later, much later, years down the road, he’ll never know what made him do it
that first time. They’re just lying there together in the dark, watching the
shadows change on the walls when cars that don’t rumble like the Impala drive
past the window, with the proof that Sam loves Dean best nestled between their
chests, hard and just a little bit cold. He doesn’t really think about doing
it, doesn’t even realize he’s going to do anything until he’s rooted at the
leather cord around Dean’s neck to bring the amulet up higher. Doesn’t even
realize it until he’s opened up his mouth and pulled the figurine inside.
The taste of it is sharply metallic and strange, like a penny but not. The
angles are all hard and oblong, pushing against the soft inside of his mouth.
It so weird and alien and right, for reasons and in ways he doesn’t understand.
The minerally taste floods his mouth and the warm smell of Dean is in his nose
and somehow the unusualness of it all distracts him from everything else as he
learns the peaks and dips with his tongue.
He falls asleep like that, better than he has since he learned about the family
business. That’s the beginning.
Maybe it would have stayed like that forever or maybe he would have grown out
of it – different place, different time, different life. But in the one Sam’s
got, that’s not how it goes. How it goes is just like that, just exactly like
that, for a lot longer than even their messed-up definition of normal can
account for. They’re growing up, both of them, but Dean always more, always
faster, miles and miles ahead when Sam feels like he’s standing still. They
don’t fit together in a bed the way they used to, not enough space so they end
up pressing even closer in the night while Dean curls around him and Sam
suckles gently on the amulet because that’s what they do, that’s who they are.
Dean’s developed this thing lately where he likes to touch Sam’s mouth while he
has the amulet in there, fingers tracing so gently it almost tickles, around
the little pouty spot where the cord disappears between Sam’s lips. It’s kind
of weird, but probably not weirder than the fact that Sam’s ten and still sucks
on his brother’s necklace to go to sleep at night. Not weirder than that
they’re still sharing a bed and living in motel rooms and barely have a dad.
Weird is one of those things that doesn’t mean the same thing with them that it
does with other people.
So, yeah, Dean touches his lips and Sam doesn’t really pay much thought to it
because this is one of those things – it happens and they don’t really talk
about it; it just works. He doesn’t think much about it either when one night
he reaches for the amulet and Dean closes his own fingers around it instead,
because Dean’s his big brother and sometimes he decides to be a jerk just
because. Except Dean doesn’t dangle it out of Sam’s reach like he usually does
when he has something Sam wants. Instead he takes the edge of it and runs the
cool bronze around Sam’s lips, watching him open for it with this thing in his
eyes that Sam doesn’t recognize. Then, at the last second, before Sam can duck
his head just right to get his mouth around it, Dean takes it back and pops it
into his own instead like the last Lifesaver in the roll.
That’s kind of confusing because, for all that Sam’s sucked on it enough to
probably have a permanent imprint of the little face on the roof of his mouth,
he’s never seen Dean do it, not once. It only lasts a second and then Dean’s
opening his mouth, the amulet sitting right there on his tongue, spit-shiny in
the dark. Dean plucks it out of his mouth and presses it back up against Sam’s
lips insistently. It’s warm and wet and Sam should probably at least pause
before he opens his mouth up and nibbles it out of Dean’s fingers, but he
doesn’t. He just pulls the metal into his mouth and gets it situated right in
the middle of his tongue like always.
Dean makes this noise that Sam only ever hears when his brother has to get
himself off at night and that’s the first time he really clues in that Dean’s
hard. It’s not exactly a new thing – Dean been able to get hard for a long time
now and for the last couple of years, he’s done it a lot. Sam’s used to weight
and the heat of it against his hip, knows exactly what it feels like when it
gets even hotter and wetter when Dean rubs up against him and finishes, but
there’s something about this that’s different when Dean grabs hold at the top
of Sam’s thigh and hitches him in closer.
It might be the way Dean’s face tilts down against him instead of up and away
so that they’re breathing the same warm air, slightly musty from the Goodwill
sheets. It might be the way Dean’s hand slides up to the small of Sam’s back
and tucks him in even tighter, the pressure of Dean’s hard-on pushing against
him making Sam’s own twitch and start to fill up with that still-new ache that
he can never quite decide if he likes. It might be the way Dean’s lips push
right up against Sam’s mouth and his tongue snakes out to pull at the cord
until Sam opens up and lets his brother take the little bit of metal back.
Quiet and hungry, Dean breathes out another sound, digs his fingers in against
Sam’s back and Sam can feel him sucking at the amulet, the tiny pulses of his
lips as he moves it around in there, hear it when he swallows the metal-tinged
saliva that Sam knows the exact flavor of. His stomach seems to jerk at the
same time that his dick does and his whole body suddenly feels way too small
for him. Dean opens his mouth again, pushes the slick piece of bronze against
Sam’s lips almost painfully until he remembers how to open up and lets his
brother push the charm right inside of him with his tongue.
Dean’s breathing crazy-hard, making all kinds of racket as he humps against
Sam’s body and Sam’s bucks right back against him, doing everything all on its
own because he still hasn’t got a clue what’s going on. Dean’s lips twitch
against his like they do sometimes when he’s reading, little snatches of words
that never really make it out. He pushes at Sam’s mouth with his tongue again,
sucking on Sam’s tongue for just a second along with the amulet when he
reflexively gives it back and Sam’s body cramps up all the way around at the
same moment like he’s frozen. His underwear goes wet - which is still
embarrassing even though he knows it’s not really pee - and Dean grabs onto the
back of his head and shoves the necklace back into the mouth that Sam can’t
figure out how to close, licks the inside of his cheek so Sam can’t stop coming
even after it hurts.
The space all around him goes even hotter as Dean starts to lose it too, hangs
onto him so tight Sam can’t breathe and then finally goes limp, panting against
Sam’s mouth. Sam doesn’t have a word for how he feels all of a sudden, shaky
and weak like that time he had the flu but still really really good. He wakes
up the next morning sticky and gross with Dean’s necklace still in his mouth
and green eyes on him like he’s something brand new and special.
That’s mostly how it goes for a while, a long while; the two of them trading a
tiny bit of bronze between their mouths at night, sucking each other’s spit off
of it, and about a year after the fact, it occurs to Sam that they’re kissing.
After that it sort of stops mattering whether or not it’s weird because Sam’s
been making out with his big brother all this time without really noticing so
the next night, he licks his way up the cord while Dean’s sucking the charm and
puts his mouth to Dean’s neck to pull at the skin the same way he’s done the
amulet so many times.
His brother comes right exactly then.
Afterward, Sam laughs at him about it and Dean pins him to the bed and shoves a
hand down Sam’s boxers. He doesn’t really have much room to laugh after that;
Dean’s hands are his new favorite thing.
He thinks maybe the necklace is just an excuse now, but that doesn’t mean that
they stop using it.They’re stuck in apartment in Memphis toward the end of
July. Sam’s summer reading list is tucked into a copy of Roll of Thunder, Hear
My Cry in his duffle, but last year he was ahead of most of the English classes
he got dumped into so he’s not too worried about reading up just so he can
repeat the same pattern in eighth grade. Besides, it’s not really his fault he
keeps getting distracted when Dean’s the one laying around without a shirt on –
he’s only human.
The air smells like rain on hot pavement and Dean’s skin tastes like sweat-salt
as Sam chases the shine of metal in the afternoon sunlight across his brother’s
chest with his tongue. The amulet catches on the peak of a nipple so Sam
lingers there for a while, mouth open wide around bronze and dusky, pebbled
flesh. Dean moans deep and squirms underneath him like a wild creature.
For some reason that, making Dean lose his carefully controlled cool, works Sam
up harder than hours’ worth of messing around. It’s the whole reason he’s spent
most of his summer working up the courage for this – because if he can do it,
if Dean will let him, it might just be the most amazing thing he’s ever felt.
His brother is all but writhing against him when Sam finally relents, leaving
his nipples tight and red, dark little marks all over his chest and neck. When
Sam lifts the amulet up, drags it over his brother’s head, Dean startles,
reaches out automatically to take it back. Sam gives him a smile he’s been
trying to copy off of his brother’s face for a while now and maybe he succeeds
because Dean rests his hand back on his belly and lets Sam do what he wants
with the necklace, despite the small wrinkle of worry between his eyebrows.
What Sam wants is simple and incredibly complicated, but for the moment he
settles for slinking down the bed until he’s eye-level with Dean’s hips. He’d
gotten Dean’s pants down around his knees a while ago – and lost a tiny bit of
his mind when he realized his brother had been hanging around commando all
afternoon – so now all he has to do is wrap the worn leather strand around
Dean’s cock.
It’s a little bit more challenging than he’d imagined, getting it all just
right so that the charm itself sits on top of the crown like a pedestal,
getting even shinier as fluid pulses out of the slit. Still, he manages, and
for the way Dean stares, eyes wide and shocked, totally struck stupid by it,
it’s completely worth the effort.
This is the hard part. He’s not scared of Dean’s dick or anything, he’s had it
rubbed all over just about every part of his body imaginable at one point or
other, but this is different. This is the thing that means they can’t just
pretend it’s convenient anymore, that it doesn’t really mean anything. This is
voluntarily and clear-headedly sucking his brother’s cock. This makes it sex.
Sam’s hand is shaking where it’s wrapped around the base of Dean’s dick, little
flashes of dark leather showing between his fingers. But then Dean’s is
trembling too when he touches a hand to Sam’s temple, so soft it’s like he
thinks Sam’s going to disappear any second. Maybe he does, Dean’s funny about
this stuff sometimes, like he can’t ever really believe that Sam wants it when
it’s what Sam spends approximately 87% of his waking hours – and a lot more of
his not-waking hours – thinking about.
His eyes are bright green around the wide spread of his pupil, shiny like after
he’s had a couple of beers and Sam’s pretty sure the room could go up in flames
around them right now and Dean wouldn’t even notice. And that’s all Sam needs.
He knows exactly how big Dean is, but it’s still sort of a surprise how wide he
has to open his mouth when he pushes down onto the head. The amulet scrapes
gently against the roof of his mouth, bumping across the washboard texture and
flooding him with the mixed taste of metal and precome. It prompts Sam to suck
harder, hungry for more of a flavor that’s uncomfortably like home in the back
of his head. Dean whines and fists his hands in the sheets.
He can’t get it in very far, even less with the charm pressing at the back of
his throat, but his brother doesn’t seem to mind. Hesitant and soft, Dean’s
fingers push into Sam’s hair, just barely resting there like he’s afraid of
pushing and the second the thought hits, it’s what Sam wants. He arches up,
pressing the back of his head against Dean’s hand at the same time he shifts
the amulet around with his tongue until one of the little horns presses into
the slit. Dean’s fingers tighten instantly, gripping hard enough to hurt just a
tiny bit, nothing compared to the steady throb between his legs as his boxers
get slicker and slicker on the inside.
It doesn’t take very long, not with Dean guiding him up and down as he sucks,
aborted little rocks of his hips that say how bad he wants to fuck up into
Sam’s mouth and it’s so insanely hot Sam’s going out of his freaking skull.
There are tears leaking out of his eyes as tiny metal protrusions bruise his
palate and there’s no way it looks sexy like girls in pornos but Dean sounds
happy. His thumb skates around the outside of Sam’s stretched lips – he has
such a thing for that – bumping over the ridges of cord as they slide in and
out of Sam’s mouth. It pushes at the corner just a little bit the very tip
sliding in and it’s a challenge with his mouth stuffed full like this but Sam
manages to slide his tongue around and tickle at it.
Dean’s grip really does go tight on him then and the bronze-and-salt flavor in
his mouth goes thicker as he’s suddenly filled with more liquid heat than he
can swallow all at once. He ends up choking on most of it, letting spurt after
spurt hit the flat of his tongue and it’s amulet shield and dribble back over
the length of Dean’s spasming cock. He laps it up off of the softening shaft,
mouthing and tonguing around the cord for extra-long because it makes his
brother shiver. For dessert, there’s the charm itself, messy with come. He lets
his pursed lips rest at the slit and pull semi-pained little sounds out of Dean
with every small brush as he sucks it clean too.
Sam hardly has to get a hand down to press against the front of his shorts
before he’s going off himself, wet and dirty in his clothes. Dean’s fingers rub
at the back of his neck as his jitters his way through it, face pressed tight
against his brother’s hip, mouth still full of the taste of metal and Dean.
From there it’s not much of leap to see where they’re headed, but it still
takes a while to get there.
Sam’s sixteen before he finds himself laid out naked in the back of the Impala
with his brother hovering over him, the amulet cord strung between them like a
lifeline. One of Dean’s hands is buried between Sam’s legs, pushing a knot of
three fingers in and out of his hole so slow Sam’s pretty sure his nerves are
going to fry from all the heat swamping through him. He sucks harder, working
his tongue against the sharp angles of the symbol in his mouth in a way that’s
impossibly soothing, all things considered. The motion Zens him out, makes it
easier to take when Dean pushes his pinkie in just to the first knuckle and
then draws it out again along with the other three, leaving him almost
unbearably empty for a moment.
Sam hears himself gasp his brother’s name, slurred a little around the figurine
on his tongue, embarrassingly desperate. Dean echoes his own right back at him
just as needy and then it’s happening, really finally happening after what
feels like a lifetime in the making.
It hurts, no denying that, even with all the stretching. It aches deep inside
and Sam’s muscles fight against it, try to push out when he knows he really
wants this even if he can’t remember why right this second. Then Dean’s mouth
is on him, just like it has been so many times for so many years, licking at
Sam’s tongue around protrusions of bronze and the pain is still there but now
it’s manageable, almost overwhelmed by the surge of need-want-love. His arms
wrap around the back of Dean’s neck, holding him in place, the fingers of one
twining with the cord as his legs tighten around his brother’s hips and force
them in, faster, deeper.
Dean pulls the amulet halfway out of Sam’s mouth, clamping his teeth around it
midway and holding there as he slowly pulls his body back too, a gritty drag of
hard-won inches. Sam mirrors him - has to, needs something to bite down on -
teeth and lips flush together in the curling mingle of machine-gun breaths. The
push back wrecks it all, both of them, as Dean either forgets what he’s doing
or totally loses control of his upper body as he dick sinks all the way back
into Sam on a jarring push. Sam gasps and the amulet falls back into his mouth,
uncontrolled, almost choking him as it hits the back of his throat except he
has no air to actually choke on.
The jolts of Dean’s hips are hard and erratic, as starved as the low-grade
growl he keeps leaking against Sam’s dampening skin. He presses kisses all
over; forehead, cheeks, lips throat, everything he can get at. Sam arches into
any and all of it, just as rabid to take as his brother is to give. His own
cock is trapped between their bodies, twitching every time Dean pushes in and
hits that place inside that makes Sam lose random pieces of himself to the
sparks behind his eyelids. Sweat-slick, they slide on the vinyl with each push,
sloppy and uncoordinated and Sam just can’t take it, can’t stand it, won’t ever
be able to live without this again.
He nearly strangles his brother when he tries to get a hand down on his cock,
forgetting about the leather strip wound around his fingers. Instead he ends up
jacking shakily with his left hand, even more tragically uncoordinated because
there’s only a sliver of space to work with. It’s still enough to make him feel
like lightning’s just been funneled into his veins.
Way too soon and already he’s there.
Luckily Dean knows him, the way he looks or sounds or something, because his
lips are back on Sam’s just like that, salty and wet, the slick push of tongue
pressing the shape of the amulet into his own. He’s helpless to do anything
before that onslaught of push-pull-suck-fuck-love-me but surrender.
His orgasm is close to painful and he’s still swimming through the haze of it
when he feels Dean still against him, the bizarre jerk inside of his body as
his brother pumps him full in a whole new way.
Dean’s not so much kissing him anymore as mouthing at his lips and letting his
tongue roll aimlessly around the line of his teeth. Sam’s actually more than ok
with that, so he slides his fingers into the wet silk of short blonde hair and
encourages him with tiny non-sense sounds. He loses a lot of time in it, whole
worlds rising and falling as far as he knows, in the humid warmth of Dean’s
mouth on his, keeping him grounded and whole when flying apart or melting away
both seem like legitimate threats.
At some point he dimly feels the body-warm hardness of the amulet get pushed
out of the corner of his mouth to leave a wet snail-trail of spit down his
cheek. He really doesn’t pay it very much attention at all.
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