Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6200929.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Sam_Winchester/Original_Female_Character
      (s)
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Serial_Killers, Voyeurism, Voyeur_Dean, Vaginal_Sex, Anal_Fingering,
      Prostate_Milking, Overstimulation, one_very_very_only_a_paragraph_long
      reference_to, Extremely_Underage, this_also_may_look_like_noncon_but_it
      isn't, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-03-09 Words: 3458
****** Lifeless Green Eyes ******
by castielsstarr
Summary
     Dean was flirting with the waitress and Sam wasn't going to let her
     get with his brother.
     Sam is 14.
     HEED WARNINGS, PLEASE. (There is a single paragraph referencing him
     and Dean when Sam is 12, but literally that's it.)
Notes
     Yeah, ok, so I lied about you all getting fluffy stuff next. Sorry,
     not sorry.
     Inspired by the absolutely AWESOME (and totally fucking dark) series
     Exquisite_Red. Never heard of it? Do yourself a favor and go read it.
See the end of the work for more notes
Sam's right hand fumbled with the key to the motel room door, pretending he
couldn't open it, looking more the embarrassed teenager than he had ever been
at any point in his life. He let them—everyone else but Dean—see what he wanted
them to, not how he was, not how he wanted to be. To them he was your normal,
gawky, sixteen-year-old boy. Interested in girls, sports, and jerking off at
all hours of the day.
They didn't know him at all.
He always got mistaken for older than he was. His frame was always going to be
slight, but his face was more angular than any of the other kids in his grade.
Sixteen was actually fourteen, but to a bored and horny, nineteen-year-old
waitress from the restaurant across the way, it wasn't going to make a
difference.
The pretty brunette slid her arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close to
her side, kissing her misplaced affection into his hair. "No need to be
nervous, baby boy. I'll show you just how good your first time can be."
He almost winced visibly as the pet name sickened him, but he neutralized the
expression with another swish of his floppy brown hair and averted eyes. Only
one person was allowed to call him that and it wasn’t her.
Sam got the key into the deadbolt, and he could hear each of the pins popping
into place before the key turned and the lock tumbled open. He was trained to
hear each one of those pins, know the right amount of pressure needed to set
them. It was funny, how everything in the world was always behind just a simple
lock and key. Learn to pick it and you have access to anything.
The door swung open and the girl—he never bothered with her name, though she
told it to him twice—took the lead, entering ahead of him. Bold move since he
mentioned his father could have been home. He wasn't, Sam knew, but she didn't.
Had been part of what made her come over here in the first place, he was sure
of it. Amazing how much more interesting you find something as your chances of
getting caught rise.
Her shirt was on the floor, breasts bare, before the door was even closed
behind him. "I promise I'll go easy on you." All sly smiles and suggestive
grins. She gripped her tits in each hand and bounced them, supposedly for his
enjoyment. He was staring, sure, but it wasn't for the reasons she thought. Sam
never really understood the appeal of women’s parts. Liked Dean’s flat chest
better—the way it seamlessly flowed into his trim belly.
"O-ok," he stuttered out softly, moving further into the room, setting his keys
on the table. Sam let his fingers tremble just a touch as he played with the
ring on his right hand. She encouraged him further with a sweet little giggle
and a teasing, "Don't you want this?" He nodded and shucked his overshirt.
The green plaid was just the wrong side of too big, but it was the one he liked
the most. It was his favorite because it was Dean's favorite. Sam would put it
on when his brother wasn’t around, reveling in the scent of fast food, big
brother and sex. The combination was heady and often stale, but it didn't
matter. It was perfect.
Sam’s t-shirt came off next and the girl eyed him like a ravenous hound,
wanting to tear into the flesh of his stomach and snack on bits of muscle. Of
course, that wasn’t what she actually wanted, and he continued to strip out of
his jeans. She eyed his thighs and hardened cock much the same way. It was easy
to get hard when the waitress, with her green eyes and pixie-cut hair, looked
exactly like his brother.
She didn’t even need to remove the skirt of her uniform—just plopped herself on
the edge of the bed and spread her knees wide. With the blue skirt barely
touching her knees to begin with, it crept higher the more she opened her legs,
drawing his attention to the barest bit of dark hair between them. Aside from
that one small patch, her skin was bare, the way his own used to be not a
couple years before.
Dean had slept curled around Sam most nights when they were younger, wrapped
tight in the essence of brother, want, home, while the world went crazy around
them. His hand would rest gently between Sam’s legs, cupping his hairless balls
that were drawn up so close to has body. “Gonna grow hair down here and your
cock will be bigger than mine, I promise you,” he had whispered one night
before falling asleep.
He had been right, however; Sam’s cock was almost as big already and he knew he
still had a bit of growing left to do. But right then, the size didn’t really
matter because the girl wanted it. As she slipped a finger below her skirt to
part the soft folds of her skin, really allowing him to see, he could tell how
wet she was for it. Her touch slid easily and she moaned. It was a candy-coated
sound, so sickeningly sweet that he knew it wasn’t real.
She was putting on a show for him the same way he was putting on a show for
someone else.
He moved in closer, letting his fingertips brush just barely along the milky
white skin of her inner thigh, mouth forming around false words he couldn’t
spit out. You’re beautiful. I need you.
The girl leaned back across the bed, letting him see every inch of her. "Do you
want to do this nice and slow or do you just want to take me?" Her voice gave
every indication that she would be agreeable with either option.
Sam had known before he even picked her up tonight how this was going to go. He
just let her think that every choice was hers. "S-slow. Please." The stutter
held a lie that she didn't find.
A slight, contented sigh. "Slow is good. Why don't you get over here?"
When he came near enough to her, she took his hips in her hands, pulling him
close. Too rough, like the way his brother had in the back of the Impala many
times before. Did Dean know from experience? This must have been one of the
reasons he picked her. Had they been messing around when Sam had his back
turned?
Arms wrapped around him, hands splayed on Sam’s lower back, pulling him closer
still, standing between her legs as her tongue roamed the undefined planes of
his stomach. It was the one part of him that truly belied his age if she looked
close enough. Sam wasn't sharp, overworked muscle, toned to within an inch of
injury. He was soft lines and a little bit more pudge. Dean loved that about
him, but for some reason he couldn't see it the same.
She removed one hand from his back, hefting the weight of his hardened cock in
her hand as she continued to nip and lick and suck his skin into her mouth.
Insatiable and she hadn't even gotten to the good part.
Blowjobs were commonplace between him and Dean, but a girl's mouth was a
different sensation. He'd been given one once or twice by the other girls he’d
fucked, and their mouth's were smaller, making cheeks tight around his length
when they sucked. Their lips weren't as chewed up and chapped, either. Soft and
warm just like the wetness between their legs. A firing squad couldn't have
made Sam say which he preferred.
It was just as he thought it would be when she took him into her mouth without
preamble. Tight, wet heat mixed with soft lips along the underside of his dick.
He was only human and the stimulation was enough to make a moan escape. She
groaned, too, sending the vibrations down his length. With how deep in her
throat he was, Sam could feel it in his balls and he thrust forward, gagging
her a bit.
He pulled back and slapped on that doe-eyed look that every woman and most men
he'd come across found endearing. It said, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
Like a dog afraid to be kicked.
She coughed, spluttered a little, and regained her composure with a smile. "Not
a big deal. Just got a little too excited, huh?
"Y-yeah, I guess," he said, as she thumbed at his hip bones.
"Let's get you suited up to play then, shall we?" She gave a salacious wink and
he almost rolled his eyes. Attention-craving slut was not a good look on her.
It didn't take long for him to find a condom in the bedside drawer and roll it
on.
Her hands were back on his hips, guiding him slowly inside of her. With every
inch he pushed in, he trembled and whined—gave her some sort of little show.
Frantic was the best word. His hips impatiently twitched forward that final
inch, seating himself fully inside of her.
"Ooh, yeah." She was whining, even though he hadn't moved inside of her yet.
"You feel so good.” With the way her face was starting to contort, he couldn't
tell how much of this was a facade for his sake and how much was she actually
wanted to have sex with him. It was stupid.
Sam was supposed to be inexperienced, but why not give her at least a little
fun? He withdrew no more than two inches before slamming his hips back in. His
bones pounded into the meat of her ass as he fucked in, pulling her legs to
wrap tight around his waist.
The keys made a distinct jingle outside the door, as the moan that got pulled
from her was loud and unrestrained. If Sam hadn't been listening for them
specifically, he wouldn't have heard it. They paused though, the sound dying
out, and Sam was able to see a small flicker of motion through the barest gap
purposefully left in the motel room curtains.
He kept pounding into her, trying to keep his attention focused, especially now
that he knew Dean was watching.
"Are you sure you haven't—nnngg, yes—done this before?" She was starting to
writhe on his dick, pushing her hips back to meet his. Of course he had done
this before, and he knew how to make a girl come in less than five minutes. Sam
worked his fingers between them, rubbing a brutal rhythm over her clit, making
her cry out. "Oh, my god! Fuck, I’m close!"
If Dean wasn't already 100 percent sure what Sam was doing to her, he knew now.
Sam could sense his brother's eyes on him, working over his shoulders, back,
trim waist and hips. His brother's eyes—likely that brightened, sparkling green
that he got when he was angry—always held their own presence. The fury they
could hold—or the love—was a remarkable thing.
There wasn't a lot of time left for Sam to make his move if he was going to.
His free hand slipped over the side of the mattress and ducked just barely
under the edge, searching for what he knew was hidden under there. As he pulled
it out, he fucked deep into her, pushing a hand up underneath her chin, baring
her neck for him. Sam ground his hips in small circles, making them rub against
her clit, until he felt her walls start to flutter around his dick.
That was when he placed the knife to her jugular and sliced from right below
her ear, down, and across her neck, the end falling at the hollow of her
throat. He could have made a precise cut, following just the line of that
pulsing vein, but why fucking bother?
She choked on air and blood and fear, knowing she was going to die silently,
making her pussy tighten as Sam continued to fuck through her orgasm. It was
more than enough to pull him over and he came inside of her, moaning loud so
Dean knew.
He'd be coming in here any minute now to stop Sam; he could already hear that
Dean was fumbling with the keys again. Hand moved to the back of her neck now,
Sam lifted her just slightly, causing that slick red to flow down over her
breasts and stomach, instead of just soaking back into the comforter. Had to
get her all ready for big brother. Dean always loved sucking blood-smeared
nipples, though usually they were Sam's, but if he wanted this one the same way
he wanted Sam, then she had to be perfect.
She had stilled by the time Dean wrenched the door open and slammed it shut,
yanking closed the little stretch of curtain. Just to bait him, Sam rolled his
hips and moaned again, forcing Dean into action.
Hands were on his hips, dragging him backward, pulling his cock out of her
barely-dead body. His back met hard body, ass finding harder cock as a pair of
teeth painfully nipped at his ear. One of those hands released his hip to press
tight on Sam’s throat.
"What is this?" Dean hissed, breath hot in his ear.
"I saw the two of you. The way you fucking looked at her."
"Jealousy isn't becoming on you, Sammy."
"It's Sam." He struggled against his brother's hold, but Dean just clamped
down, cutting off his airway. He tried to get in air, but nothing was getting
passed.
"It'll be Sam when you stop acting like such a fucking child," he spat.
He wasn't expecting to be released that easy, but Dean had tossed both hands
from his body, like it was burning him the longer he kept his hands on him. Sam
didn't look at his brother—just kept staring at the girl in front of him, blood
darkening her paling skin, the knife up by her head. Having it this close to
Dean was probably a mistake and he wondered if he shouldn't have hid it before
he had gotten the door open.
The anger was palpable, but Dean's voice was calm when he spoke. "Get on the
bed. Straddle her."
Sam went to turn. "But—"
"Now."
The cool and collected tone should have bothered him, but instead it sent
shivers up his spine and his cock made an attempt to twitch back to life. His
legs settled, one on either side of her thighs, and he bent down on his elbows
over top of her. Sam made sure to keep his chest held up while his ass was in
the air, presented for Dean.
His brother's warm hand slid between his body and hers, making sure to drag
just barely against the oversensitive, come-slicked head of his slightly-
attentive cock. When he dropped his head and moaned, Sam could see how Dean was
rolling and rubbing two fingers through the blood that had pooled on her
stomach, dipping one into her belly button, forcing what had settled there to
well up around the digit. Oh god, yes.
"Please, Dean." Sam wiggled his hips back and forth, pushing them back more so
Dean could see his hole, still puffy and red from fucking himself on his own
barely-wet fingers early that morning.
"Oh, you think I'm going to open you up for my cock?" Dean teased, as his
weight settled over Sam's back, t-shirt rough from too many washings against
his bare skin.
Sam nodded with a whine.
"That's what you want, huh? Smear this poor girl all up inside you, slick
myself up with your come that's leaking out of her, and pound your ass?" Sam
couldn't help rocking his hips back against his brother's jean-constrained
erection as he groaned.
Dean laughed, a dark sound that made Sam wary, as he pulled away. "No.
Misbehaving baby brothers don't get to be fucked."
Heat and pain rushed Sam as those two coated fingers forced their way to fully-
seated in his ass. Instinct said no, get away, pull forward, but he pushed back
harder on them, urging Dean to move.
He shifted them just enough to find Sam's prostate before pressing down against
it. His fingers held still, just the pads of those two rubbing over and around
that sensitive area.
"Dean! Oh, fuck."
"This is what you get for taking someone without me. I don't care that it was
her; she was gonna be a gift for you, anyway. But I told you, Sammy, you can't
do this alone."
"I c-can, ahh!" His mouth barely worked to form words, only wanting to force
out moans, but he tried. "I'm older than when we s-started. I wanted to prove I
can do this, too!"
"I'm not saying you can't because you're too young, and one day maybe you'll
understand that." He pushed harder and faster, forcing yelps out of Sam. "Now,
you're going to make this up to me, aren't you?"
Sam nodded. His legs were shaking so hard he wanted to let them splay to the
side, take the weight off of them and rut against her cooling skin. How good it
would feel against his cock, already hot and hard, threatening to spill over
her.
A sharp smack landed against his ass, further reddening his already flushed
skin. "Answer me."
"Yes! I will make this up to you, I promise."
"Then come. I want to watch you."
His second orgasm wasn't as strong as the first had been, but it was close. He
let go, moaning, painting her belly with the few spurts of come that was left
in his balls. Far less than what he knew he shot inside her. Could feel how it
had shifted around inside of her on that last thrust.
Sam was starting to come down, but the fingers inside of him kept moving. It
was too much, too fast, it hurt. His fists clenched in the sheets and his eyes
screwed shut. "De!"
He was off balance, no longer solidly on his elbows. Dean had his left hand
pressed down hard in the center of Sam's shoulders, forcing his head between
her breasts. "Swear you won't do this without me again."
"Yes! Yes, I swear. Just, please, stop!" The tears were thick in Sam's voice—or
maybe that was the tangy copper taste starting to coat his tongue as he
panted—but he didn't say the word that would bring this all to a halt. Didn't
want to. He coughed against the intrusion as her blood seeped into his nose,
too.
"One more, baby boy, then we're done." Dean didn't let up on his shoulders,
though, keeping him pinned. "I know you can do it. C'mon, just come once more
for me."
The change to the soft, loving voice Sam usually heard was what set him off.
His hole worked around Dean's fingers harder than before and every muscle in
his pelvis jerked and shuddered as he came dry. He screamed as the suddenly-
stilled pressure against his prostate kept him coming, and he was sure it was
never going to end. He felt like he was going to die being milked on his
brother's fingers.
Dean took pity and slowly withdrew from Sam's more than sore asshole. Even as
hurting, tired, and fucked out as he was, he still whimpered at the loss. Both
arms were around his waist in seconds with the soft question of, "Stand?"
His brother shifted him back off the bed, off the lifeless green eyes that
still stared wide at him. Sam's feet touched the floor, but his legs buckled as
soon as he put his weight down. It was just long enough for Dean to shift and
hoist Sam into his arms.
He settled Sam on the other bed, pulling the comforter tight over his
shoulders. Sam wasn't sure when he started shivering or when the room went
blurry, either. He blinked, maybe for a bit longer than a he thought, and there
was a warm washcloth gently pressing against his face.
"We'll get the rest cleaned off when you can shower," Dean murmured. "I just
didn't want her sticking your eyes closed while you slept.”
Sam tried to answer him with a "thank you," but the hum that came out was going
to be all the acknowledgement he was capable of.
Dean chuckled before placing a gentle kiss to his slack mouth. "I love you so
much, Sam. I'll come to bed once she's gone."
He was asleep before Dean's weight even shifted off the mattress.
End Notes
     Come hang out with me on Tumblr, I promise I don't bite:
     SPN NSFW Multi-ship sideblog: wingedwincest.tumblr.com
     Main blog: castielsstarr.tumblr.com
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