Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2298197.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Community:_blindfold_spn, Cock_Worship, Come_Fetish, Watersports, piss
      drinking, Weechesters, Dirty_Talk, Pet_Names, Bathroom_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-07-20 Words: 2130
****** Hit the Head ******
by Edwardina
Summary
     prompt: Twelve-year-old Sam loves Dean's dick and cum so much, he
     starts to fantasize about gulping down EVERYTHING that cock can offer
     and can't get the thought of drinking Dean's piss out of his head.
     Eventually, in the heat of the moment, he begs Dean for it. Dean's
     unsure at first, but when Sammy pleads for him to piss down his
     throat and then wraps his little mouth around the head of his cock,
     he can't resist. Bonus points if afterwards, Dean fucks his mouth
     hard and Sam comes untouched.
Notes
     Written for blindfold_spn and originally posted here.
     I have written so much watersports and weecest and in fact weecest
     with watersports (more than I have ever finished/posted) but I have
     never written piss-drinking in particular and I also do not usually
     write wee Sam instigating anything, so I took this on as a challenge.
Sam sucks his big brother's dick. It's something he and Dean do when they're
alone, and Sam likes that, the feeling of being with Dean and being able to
touch him and look at his body. And even though Dean mutters about it
sometimes, all like, This is wrong, Sammy. I shouldn't let you do this, he
knows Dean likes it too. A lot of the time, it's even his idea, and they'll be
sitting in a fast food restaurant on the interstate just totally being
innocent, and then Dean will say, C'mon, kiddo, let's hit the head, and the
arch of a brow he gives Sam lets him know what that really means: him and Dean
cramming together in a stall, his knees on the tile floor in the McDonald's
bathroom and Dean unzipping for him, feeding him his big pink cock and letting
him suck it in a grateful frenzy, wondering the whole time if someone's going
to walk in on them.
To Sam, it's huge. Dean's like a grown-up already. A soft but scratchy treasure
trail leads up from the root of his dick to his navel, visible when he's just
in his boxers at night and teasing Sam with what's just down there beneath it.
He's always been bigger than Sam, always, in every way, but also always miles
ahead of him in the junk department. But since he got to be in high school, the
smell of him got stronger, the veins in his hard-ons got more pronounced, and
his balls are way huger than Sam's, and everything about him from the muscles
in his arms and thighs to the way he shaves his face is hot... but his dick is
the hottest thing.
He likes just looking at it, if that's all Dean will let him do (usually Dad's
in the other queen three feet from them, snoring, and it's a horrible tease to
the both of them for Dean to just tug down the very front of his underwear and
let Sam stare at it and watch it chub up for him). He loves watching Dean
handle it, whether he's just taking a leak in the urinal next to Sam's or he's
jerking it while Sam watches. Getting Dean off with his hands is hot, too - his
hands getting to feel Dean's jizz, his fingers getting to slip around in it. He
gets to watch when Dean comes and see it, thick and white, shooting out his
slit.
But Sam blisses out the most sucking it, whether Dean's holding it for him or
he's got to do it himself, whether Dean lets him draw it out forever and ever
or wants Sam to jack him off with just the knob of his dick in his mouth and
get his load quick. He used to let it go all over Dean's stomach and then lick
through it gently, push it around across his skin, but then he got so used to
the taste of it and the clingy, wet, thick texture of it that he started
licking it up. Licking it all up.
By the time he was through with fifth grade he'd learned to swallow it fresh,
straight from Dean's dick and down his throat, and that was less messy. The
less evidence Dean thought they were leaving, the more he let Sam swallow him
down and have his load, and now, even if all they feel safe doing is beating
off in a rush, he'll let Sam have it. He gets fingers in Sam's hair and pulls
and says, You want it, buddy? You want it? Here it comes. Sometimes he pulls
Sam up again and says, Show it to me, Sammy, and Sam opens his mouth, curling
his tongue inevitably to keep Dean's come from slipping out and down his chin
and onto Dean's jeans or the sheets. Then he'll say, That good? You wanna
swallow it? and make Sam nod and huff and squirm pleadingly until he says,
Swallow. But sometimes Dean's just quiet and lets Sam do anything he wants, and
then, Sam takes every hot splurt of jizz Dean gives him and gulps needily and
feels it sliding down into his tummy.
When they have to share a bed, it's awesome, especially when Dad's gone,
because then Sam can suck Dean off before they sleep and in the middle of the
night with Dean moaning, half-asleep, Fuckin' get it, kiddo. Little slut for my
dick. God, that's right, get it all in there, and in the morning, first thing.
First thing, his mouth wide open and full of Dean's cock. He loves it so much,
misses it so much when he can't do it.
He thinks about it all the time. More than Dean knows, probably. Even while
he's doing story problems on his algebra homework or sitting in science
learning about chromosomes for the third time or doing push-ups in phys ed.
It's a constant mental loop. Dean's pants. Getting in them. Dean unzipping for
him, right there, and pushing his dick into Sam's mouth. In the boys' room at
school. While he watches Dean kiss girls by the bike rack. While they're
watching TV. While they're putting highway behind them and there are rolls of
hay and cows meandering behind shabby rusted wire fences and that song by the
Steve Miller Band is on the radio. He wants to lean over or drop down like he's
Dean's sex slave or something, and suck it for him, anytime, all the time.
It gets intense when Sam finds himself wondering why Dean even wastes his piss,
because Sam would swallow that, too, any time Dean needed to piss. Sam would be
there to take it. And it would be so hot, and there would be so much. Much more
piss than come.
It's messed up, kinda. But it makes so much sense to him, too, that he wonders
if it hasn't occurred to Dean, too, especially whenever they share a bathroom
stall and the toilet's right there.
Can I clean you up? he asks one night. It's about one in the morning, and
they're just out of Arkansas, and besides a few stray dudes with tattoos and
bandanas and the night clerk in the mini mart of the truck stop, they're the
only ones there, at least while Dad fills up the car.
Clean me up how? Am I dirty? Dean asks, with a grin that suggests they get
dirty if the answer is no.
After you go, Sam says, trailing along behind Dean. But before you shake off.
Can I suck you then?
Dean locks the grimy restroom door behind them.
What, you want it to taste like piss?
Yeah. There's a moment of silence before Sam feels the need to fill it, to
explain. I like the way you piss.
You like the way I piss, Dean repeats, sounding incredulous, and Sam guesses it
was a stupid thing to say, but it's true. He feels red-faced, but Dean just
looks at him and doesn't say he's gross or anything. Maybe when your little
brother is blowing you all the time you don't have the leverage to say he's
gross.
You could let me swallow it, too, he says. I would. I would swallow everything.
Whoa, tiger, says Dean, though there's a hint of a self-satisfied grin on his
face. That's when Sam realizes that this could happen, right then, before Dean
has time to tell him to get out of his face, just like when he was nine and got
Dean to let him touch his dick for the first time.
Let me try, he presses, grasping at Dean's flannel shirt. Please, Dean?
Dean's back hits the stall door, opens it for them, and Sam squeezes in there
with him, up against him pleadingly. Sammy, you don't... you don't really want
me to make you drink...
Just this once, come on. Sam's down on his knees before Dean can even swing the
door shut. Please. If you don't like it, I'll stop. I just wanna feel you going
in my mouth... like when you give me your come.
Dean's silent for a second, then says, Sammy, no... - but his voice is like a
low, breathy moan. Sam can read it like a book, knows Dean better than anyone.
Please. Please, he whispers up at his big brother. His dick is hard in his jean
shorts just being down on his knees like this, in this familiar position, let
alone begging, and Dean's is boning up too. Sam's hand awkwardly slides up
Dean's thigh to squeeze at it through his jeans, making Dean inhale sharply. I
really want to. I wanna take it like I do with your come. Swallow it...
Yeah? You wanna? Dean asks slowly, fingers in Sam's hair.
So bad, Dean, please! You can piss in my mouth 'cause I wanna swallow it all.
Don't want you to waste it when you can give it to me.
Ah, jeez, Dean breathes, then unsnaps his jeans, unzips his fly. You can try
it, but you - you tap me if you wanna stop. Just tap out. You hear me, Sam?
Yes. Sam's cock is jerking, now, pulsing against his pants desperately, but he
ignores it, instead gasping softly as Dean works his half-hard dick out of the
front of his boxer-briefs. He's actually going to do this - Dean's actually
going to let him. He lunges forward, taking the time only to whisper, Wanna
swallow it, please give it to me before rubbing his face on Dean's cock and
finding the knob with his mouth and letting it pop his lips open. He goes down,
once, wetting the length of it because he can, Dean's just at half-mast, then
stops and waits.
Waits.
Endlessly.
It feels like forever. Sam's so far beyond steeled for the flood of it, the
taste - he knows it'll be different - that for once, he's miles ahead of Dean.
Dean is breathing loudly in the stall and maybe muttering something, and Sam
can feel it when his body relaxes marginally, then a little more, and his dick
plumps and rises tellingly, flexing, as he lets go and gives Sam a hot, brief
stream of piss.
Sam exhales hard, swallows instantly, drinks it down and moans for more.
Fuck, Dean sighs, and after a second, lets him have more, in such a hot rush
that it tickles the roof of Sam's mouth and fills it fast and Sam drinks it
down in glugs like a full glass of water, only it's steamy-warm and salty and
so Dean, somehow. He can hear himself swallowing noisily, full gulps one right
after the other, and oh, god, he's drinking Dean's piss down, taking it all
just like he wanted, all of it going in him instead of in the toilet.
It feels so good, Sam's brain bends in two. It's comforting in some way, taking
it, Dean's dick in his mouth, and painfully, skull-numbingly arousing in
another.
You're really drinkin' it down, huh, kiddo? Dean asks, both hands touching
Sam's cheeks gently, like he's helping to keep him there, cock in his mouth and
piss down his throat. Hope you can take all this. Not even halfway done. Givin'
it to you slow.
Sam kind of dies with hot-faced, gut-clenching, grateful, adoring pleasure.
He takes it all, starting to feel full but not ever flinching, his own breaths
and wet gulping fully audible to him in the tiny space, feeling so lucky. When
the rush stops, then he really tastes it on his tongue, piss dripping out of
Dean's slit, salty and sharp and watery and good, wiggles his tongue for more,
and groans. Dean's cock goes fully hard, wet warm soft skin sliding on rigid
flesh, and Sam's going for it, sucking it like he loves to do so much.
Fuck, baby boy. You like that? Dean pants, and pumps his hips, fucking Sam's
mouth with his cock. You like getting to drink my piss?
Sam's head is flooded with desperate images and desires. Dean using him instead
of the toilet every morning. Dean petting his hair and groaning with relief as
Sam swallows everything he's got in the parking lot, in the back seat, instead
of in the disgusting bathroom. He scrabbles to hold onto Dean, getting him
around the thighs, his body trying to jackknife there on the bathroom floor as
he creams his shorts. Pulses and pulses shoot from him, not near as much or as
thick as Dean's, but his dick keeps jerking anyway, like he's coming and coming
and can't stop.
When Dean blows it there in his mouth, clogging his throat with jizz, it's
second nature to swallow it down.
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