Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8701102.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Drama, Established_Relationship, Pre-Canon
  Collections:
      Sinful_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-05-11 Words: 2505
****** It's All Relative ******
by MajorBrat [archived by sinfuldesire_archivist]
Summary
     Daddy’s home.
Notes
     Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally
     archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began
     importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in
     November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on
     Sinful_Desire_collection_profile.
     Author's notes: For a dear sweet wonderful friend who is taping the
     season finale for me so I can rewatch and analyze until next season.
     You know who you are!
Dean watched with fascination as a bead of sweat rolled from Sammy’s temple,
down the side of his cheek, and onto his neck. Digging his fingers in a little
bit tighter, he yanked his brother’s body closer pressing his aching erection
into Sammy’s belly before biting at his chin. The soft sounds Sammy kept making
were working his libido overtime, some kind of cross between a full out groan
and a sigh. He moved his hips up again, reaching a hand between their bodies to
take both of the cocks in hand, giving them a gentle squeeze before slip
sliding them through the wetness of pooling sweat, precome, and calloused skin.
 
Sammy was hovering over him, long bangs obscuring his eyes as he writhed in
Dean’s lap, completely lost to the sensations his older brother was causing in
him. It had been days since they’d been able to touch let alone anything else.
John hadn’t been going on as many hunts due to a pulled tendon in his calf
several weeks ago. Every little moment they had to be together was rushed and
frantic, not nearly as satisfying as they wanted it to be. And the last few
days, John had been sitting right at the kitchen table pouring over newspapers
and articles, making phone call after phone call. Dean had been expected to be
right there helping him with the tangible work while Sammy was busy scouring
the internet for whatever he could find. They’d both been too exhausted to do
anything but sleep when they could finally go into their designated bedroom in
their craptastic apartment.
 
But this, this was like freakin’ heaven. No dad, no worries, no having to rush.
Dean licked across Sammy’s neck, staring at the dark purpling bruise he’d left
there earlier in the day. As soon as the sound of John’s truck roaring away in
the distance could be heard, Dean had wasted no time in getting his hands,
mouth, and other various body parts on his sixteen year old brother.
 
This…thing…between them, he’d stopped worrying about it now. He’d been over the
whole right and wrong list in his head more times than he could count and in
the end it boiled down to two simple things…Sam wanted it and he wanted it. End
of story.
 
Dean reached his other hand up sliding it along the lean muscle of Sammy’s
arms, up to shoulders that were becoming broad and sturdy, farther up onto the
corded neck that was straining as Sammy rocked into Dean’s tightly closed fist.
Hand still moving, his fingers cradled the back of his brother’s head,
fingertips stroking the sweat soaked and dampened curls, small tugs and soft
caresses. Palm going flat, Dean directed Sammy’s head forward and down, taking
the slightly parted lips in for a deep kiss, tongues stroking slowly.
 
Sammy’s forehead bumped his, their noses brushed, and then Sam was groaning.
Hips jerking forward hard and hot wet heat coated Dean’s hand before Sam’s own
closed over his, pumping them both faster. Urging Dean on with quick bites
along the jaw line, Sammy flicked his wrist, thumbed the crown of Dean’s cock,
fingered the slit just this side of teasing. With nothing more than a hiss of
breath, Dean was coming and Sammy smiled down at him.
 
They sat plastered to each other for several long moments, Sammy’s head pressed
into Dean’s neck. Lost unto themselves, they waited for their bodies to come
down from the orgasmic high. They never got the chance.
 
The door to their bedroom was still slightly ajar and when Dean opened his eyes
and looked up, John Winchester was the only thing he could see.
 
**********
 
He’d only meant to be back in the house for a moment. One small talisman had
been left behind and John was never one for being unprepared. The television
had still been on, playing some damn action movie the boys had watched a
million times over on just about every channel you could think of. He’d grabbed
the small sachet of mixed herbs off the counter and was about to head back out
the door when he noticed the state of the living room. Half the books on the
one table were lying on the floor. A glass of some kind of dark liquid had been
spilled.
 
John didn’t care for slovenly people, even less when it was his sons.
 
The only logical place the boys could be was the bedroom, as he got nearer to
the slightly open door he caught the sound of creaking bedsprings. He’d been
about an hour away when he realized the sachet he needed for the ritual was
back at the house. It would have been too much of a hassle to try and find the
right herbs to remake it if they could even be found. It was only logical that
he come back for it other than do a half assed job and get himself hurt or
worse.
 
Stepping up to the door, John got the shock of his life. Both boys were
completely nude, Dean reclining against the headboard of one of the double beds
with Sammy on his lap. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on
but John felt like the biggest idiot in the world. He couldn’t get his body to
move or his voice to work. He watched in complete silence as Dean climaxed,
watched with a sinking in his gut as Sammy nuzzled into Dean’s neck and rested.
 
When Dean’s eyes opened and looked right at him, John felt his blood rage. The
look of disbelief on his eldest son’s face was almost comical but then
something else happened. Dean’s arms wound tighter around Sammy, his face
settling into a hard mask that seemed to scream ‘challenge’ at him. That was
what broke John’s sudden case of paralysis. He pushed the door all the way open
with the flat of one hand, taking pleasure in the loud bang it made when it
struck the wall and bounced a bit back. Sammy jumped but Dean sat ramrod
straight, body quivering with fight or flight.
 
“Get dressed. Now.”
 
********
 
Sammy moved quickly as soon as John was out of sight, yanking on a pair of
sweatpants and a tee-shirt from the floor. He kept throwing glances at Dean,
who was dressing much more slowly than he’d ever seen him. He’d walked in on
Dean before with some girl and nearly laughed himself to death as both had
tried to scramble quickly into clothes, practically falling all over each other
and themselves.
 
Dean’s face was unreadable and that scared Sammy more than anything else. At
any given time he could read his brother even when most other people couldn’t.
But this was a mask that even Sammy hadn’t seen before. They dressed in silence
and Sammy steeled himself for what was about to happen.
 
Stepping out in the main room, Sammy got his real first taste of fear. He’d
been scared before but fear was something totally different. He knew exactly
what it was when he saw his father standing in the center of that room staring
everywhere but at them.
 
“How long?”
 
Sam had to strain to hear the words, brow scrunching up in confusion. This
quiet man wasn’t what he had expected.
 
“How…long?”
 
Sam took an unconscious step back. Quiet maybe, but the words were filled with
something so dark that a shout would have been much more welcomed.
 
He glanced over at Dean, who had stuffed his hands in his pockets. Dean looked
up from the spot he’d been staring daggers at in the floor to meet his father’s
gaze now that he’d turned to look at them. “Long enough.”
 
Sammy looked between the two of them, watching a matched set of determined
gazes. He inched closer to Dean, not wanting to be any farther away from him
than he needed to be.
 
“Did you do this to him? For fuck’s sake, Dean, he’s your brother! YOUR BABY
BROTHER!”
 
There was the anger that Sammy remembered, the raised voice and the red face
that he’d grown accustomed to when they were being reprimanded and punished for
bad behaviour or stupid mistakes. But there was something else underneath all
of it and for the first time in his life Sam really got to see his father in
pain.
 
He took an unconscious step forward. “Dad…”
 
“Don’t, Sam. Don’t look at me like you don’t understand.” John’s voice wavered
just the tiniest bit.
 
“You don’t,” Dean said and everything seemed to freeze.
 
**********
 
Dean couldn’t stand the look on the faces of the family around him. When his
father addressed Sammy he couldn’t keep himself quiet. “You don’t.” John turned
to look at him with wide eyes, eyes that seemed to flash so many different
emotions. “You can’t understand. You’re never here.”
 
Dean knew it was a low blow but sometimes the truth was the most effective way
to reach someone. Sure, he could con with the best of them. He’d learned it all
from John as well as John’s select group of ‘friends’. A con wasn’t going to
work here and the last thing Dean ever wanted to do was lie to his father.
 
“Explain it to me then, Dean. Explain to me how you can make rational sense out
of this…out of having sex with your brother!” John’s voice went up another
notch and Dean’s hands clenched into fists.
 
Head raised in defiance, Dean forced himself to breathe. Anger wouldn’t win out
here. He had to keep his cool as best as he could. “It just kind of happened,
there really wasn’t any way around it.”
 
“Bullshit! You could have said no, Dean! You’re the oldest. You’re responsible
for him! I’m not that stupid to think that you couldn’t discern from right and
wrong on something like this!”
 
“You don’t get it! Don’t talk to strangers, Dean. Keep your brother close to
you, Dean. Don’t trust anyone. We’re all we’ve got. Family comes first. I
listened to every damn thing you ever told me, dad! Everything!” Dean stopped,
drawing in a few ragged breaths. “Being this close all the time… it just
happened. We rely on each other probably too much but what other choice did we
have, dad? We had to be like this, learn to live like this… and if this is what
happens because of it, so be it.”
 
*********
 
John couldn’t help it, he took a step forward and grabbed Dean by the collar of
his shirt, walking him backwards until his eldest son’s back hit the wall. “You
didn’t have to be anything! You can’t pin this on any given set of
circumstances!”
 
John watched as Dean smiled sadly and he felt his heart threaten to shatter at
the grief in his son’s eyes. God, was it true? Did he make them this way? Was
this all his fault?
 
“Don’t, dad,” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t blame yourself for it.
We’re not trying to blame you. We couldn’t fight what we felt. There are no
protections or sigils or wards that can fight something like this. Don’t you
think we tried?”
 
He couldn’t do this, couldn’t hold these feelings of rage against his own
children, his only single reason for living and breathing anymore. “It’s not
right, Dean.”
 
It was Sammy’s voice that broke through to him in the last moment that John
tried to fight to keep his head above water and not drown.
 
“When’s it ever been right in our lives, dad?”
 
********
 
Sammy sat on the couch, his feet drawn up underneath of him as he stared over
at the door to his father’s bedroom. John had been in there for an hour and a
half, not a single sound coming out from the thin walls. Dean was sitting on
the far side of the couch and Sam wanted nothing more than to lay his head down
on his brother’s shoulder and sleep for a year. Just sleep and forget
everything that had happened.
 
They sat like that for another hour, television on and ignored as both boys
were lost in their own heads. When John’s door opened up, they both sat up
warily.
 
John made his way into the small living room, dropping wearily into an old
recliner that creaked and groaned under the weight of John’s tall frame. Sam
could tell from the pinched expression on his dad’s face that a major migraine
had set in.
 
“I don’t like it,” were the words that finally came out.
 
Sam sat up a bit straighter. “We’re not asking you to.”
 
John sighed and closed his eyes. “So, what then? It’s not like I can send
either one of you away or force you to stop. I know it wouldn’t work. And I
can’t be worrying about that when I’m gone on a hunt as to what’s happening
here. What is it you expect me to do?”
 
Sam stood up and walked over, dropping into a crouch next to his father’s
chair. He reached his hand out and put it over top his father’s. When John
finally opened his eyes and looked at him, Sammy took a breath and started. “We
won’t flaunt it in front of you. This has been going on for months and not once
did you ever notice anything. It’d stay that way, dad. All we ask is that you
respect our decision because we’re going to be together no matter what. If you
can’t take it, then we’ll leave.”
 
Sammy heard the quick intake of breath from Dean and knew that was the last
thing his brother wanted. He respected John, listened to him more than Sammy
did because that’s what had kept them going from that first moment after the
fire that killed Mary. Leaving John behind would be hard but Sammy knew that
Dean would do it if there was no other choice. “Dad, it doesn’t change
anything. It doesn’t make us any less your sons or any less of who we are.”
 
************
 
The years had passed, taking each man farther into his life…making him older,
making him stronger. John still tracked the demon. Sam left for college. Dean
died a little inside each day his brother was gone. It was almost too much, the
love they had for each other. Dean knew he was the reason Sammy had left but he
hoped and maybe even prayed a little that something would bring Sam back to
him.
 
Something did.
 
And when they laid their father’s body on the funeral pyre, salted and waiting
for the match, everything in those missing years seemed to suddenly mean
something. It made them ready, prepared them for love and loss, pain and anger.
 
Because in the end, in that final moment when John took his last breath, he
realized that maybe the love his sons had for each other would be the one thing
that would keep them going.
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