Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6759163.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Oral_Fixation, Oral_Sex, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Top_Dean, Bottom_Sam,
      Finger_Sucking, Thumb-sucking
  Collections:
      SPN_Kink_Bingo
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-05-06 Words: 2559
****** Lifesavers & Lollipops ******
by liftedandgifted
Summary
     Sam's always needed something, anything filling his mouth. Dean is
     his enabler.
Notes
     Written for SPN Kink Bingo
     Square FIlled: Oral Fixation
     Also on tumblr @mellowwincest
     Heed the warnings! Sam is thirteen, Dean is 17
See the end of the work for more notes
John couldn’t wean Sammy of his binky for the life of him. He’d waited too
long. Almost four and the kid barely spoke because his mouth was always filled.
It wasn’t like John hadn’t noticed, hadn’t considered taking it off him before
now, but there were more important things to worry about than what kept his
son’s mouth occupied. Besides, with Dean there to talk for him, to take care of
him, John wasn’t ever too concerned for his youngest.
Eventually, John took it away. Without the pacifier, Sam just found something
else to suck on. His fingers, Dean’s fingers, candy, and the one time John
actually caught him with a stone in his mouth.
Sam began crying at night, big, fat, silent tears, and Dean pulled him into a
tight embrace and offered up his thumb for sucking. Sam nuzzled into his
brother’s neck, slipping the digit into his mouth and sighing as the warmth of
Dean’s affection sunk in. It was love and safety all in one, and Sam never
wanted it to go.
When it was time for Sam to start school, John loaded his pockets full of
lifesavers and lollipops, hoping it would at least keep fingers out of Sam’s
mouth for most of the day. He got calls from teachers worried about Sam’s sugar
intake, his oral fixation, and the fact that he was practically mute. They
suggested doctors, therapy, and different tactics to help him. Needless to say,
they moved around quite a bit those years.
John didn’t need help raising his sons. Sam was fine. He could talk fine. The
fact that he didn’t, well that was up to Sam and if he’d rather not, John
wouldn’t force him. He liked quiet in the back of his car.
Middle school was easier on John and Sam. Teachers didn’t question Sam’s
silence, chalked it up to him being new and shy. They didn’t care how many
sugary goods he inhaled through the day as long as he didn’t leave the wrappers
lie everywhere.
The problem came when John decided it was time for Dean to start hunting.
Sam wailed, heavy, mucus-soaked sobs breaking from his chest. He clung to Dean,
fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding Dean’s thumb to his mouth. In a
wobbling, halted voice Sam choked out, “Yo-o-ou ca-” he paused to catch his
breath, gasping and gagging on the words. “Can’t go-o, Dean. Please. Please!”
He turned wide, broken eyes to his brother, the glance burning like a hot laser
on Dean’s heart.
“Sam, quit crying already. You’re thirteen, now act like it. We’re only going
to be gone for one night, for Pete’s sake.” John’s voice was exasperated and
gruff as he finished packing his duffel. “Dean, get your fingers out of your
brother’s mouth,” he added as an afterthought.
It used to disturb him a little, make him feel the failure as a parent like a
blow to the gut, the way Dean enabled Sam. He wasn’t blind to the way they
slept, Sam with a digit in his mouth, curled up like dogs. He’d given up on
breaking their habit, not willing to break their bond in the process. So he
averted his gaze, and went out to check the car one last time.
Dean turned to his brother and walked him over to their bed, sitting him down.
He drew his hand away to tilt Sam’s head up, wanting to see his favorite set of
eyes and pretty pair of lips as he said goodbye. Hands stroking his little
brother’s hair, soft and familiar under his palms, he gently shushed. “Sammy,
hey, eyes on me buddy, okay? Listen. Just listen to me. I’m going to be gone
one night, okay? It’s just one night.” Sam let out a sob, scrunching his eyes
shut as though he could take the pain away if he couldn’t see. He shoved one of
his own thumbs in his mouth, sucking hard and fast on it. “Sammy, look at me.
C’mon. There they are, those eyes. That’s a good boy.” Dean continued softly
stroking through Sam’s hair, heart hurting at the sight of his brother in such
distress.
Suddenly, he leaned down to rest his lips on Sam’s forehead whispering, “I’m
not looking forward to tonight either, Sammy. But we’ll be fine, okay? You call
me if you need me. Only if it’s an emergency.” He pulled back to grab a bag
from under the bed, smiling the most reassuring one he could manage. “And look,
I bought your favorite suckers to snack on. There’s cereal you can have for
breakfast tomorrow, pb&j for lunch, and you know how to heat up Campbell’s.”
Sam finally stopped crying, still gasping in shuddering breaths, and nodded at
Dean, taking in the information, basking in his brother’s care.
“C’mon Dean,” John’s voice barked from the entrance to the motel room, causing
the boys to jump. “Let’s hit the road.” He strode in to where Sam was sitting
and ruffled his son’s hair roughly, tugged the limb out of his mouth. “We’ll be
back soon, kiddo. Stay inside except for school, be good.”
With that, John turned to walk out the door, Dean right behind him, but a yank
on his arm had him turning back. Sam’s arms circled his waist, head resting on
Dean’s clavicle for a moment. “Be safe,” Sam whispered.
Dean hugged his brother back, committing the moment to memory. Their father’s
voice calling his name prompted Dean to finally break away from the embrace,
giving Sam once last pat on the head.
-
Sam’s security, his life and love, laid with Dean. Without his brother there,
Sam felt like up could be down and nothing made sense. School was a disruption,
something that took away his time. Here, alone in an empty room, Sam thought he
could go crazy.
He tried reading while he sucked on the lollipops Dean left him. Unable to
concentrate, mind moving in a million different directions, he did homework
which was a welcome distraction for once.
When he was finished, he took a shower. As the warm water washed over his body,
Sam couldn’t help but indulge himself in the mesmerizing dreams he’d been
having lately.
Dreams of being on his knees and sucking gently on his big brother’s cock, of
drawing the sweetest skin of his brother into his mouth and never letting go.
He managed to come in the shower, sighing in pleasure, but afterward felt
nothing but yearning for Dean.
He didn’t sleep that night. He missed the warmth of his brother, the salty tang
of wet skin in his mouth. He tried sucking on his own thumb, but without the
safety of burrowing into Dean’s chest, it’s helpless. Tossing and turning was
futile, so Sam settled for lying on his back, four fingers in his mouth, and
stared at the ceiling until the sun returned.
Morning was difficult, getting ready for school and eating. He felt like he
couldn’t get anything big enough in his mouth, nothing helping the ache he felt
in his chest, stomach, and throat. School was a trial of torture. He ran out of
lollipops halfway through the day, and having been beaten for his frequent
thumb-sucking before, he had enough self-control to keep his fingers out of his
mouth. He ended up finding nothing to occupy his tongue but pencil erasers.
At the motel, he rinsed his mouth with water and ate the soup Dean had left for
him to take away the disgusting taste of rubber and graphite.
It was late evening when Sam finally heard the phone chirping. He scrambled to
pick it up, heart racing in excitement. There was only one person who would be
calling him. “’Lo?” He answered, voice high in anticipation.
Dean’s voice was loud through the speaker, and Sam could hear music playing low
in the background. They were in the car. “Hey Sammy! How’re you doing?”
Sam talked quiet into the phone, clearing his throat once before answering.
“I’m okay Dean. Are you coming home?” Home wasn’t this motel, or Lawrence, or
anywhere in the world but where Sam was. It was all he could think of, their
return.
A little gentler, Dean replied, “Yeah Sam we’re on our way home now. Should be
back in a bit, okay?”
Afraid of his brother hanging up, Sam yelled into the phone, “Dean, wait!”
Dean chuckled. “Yes Sammy?”
Again Sam cleared his throat to answer. “I just… I wanted to ask. Are you
okay?”
Another chuckle. “Yeah Sam, I’m okay. A little sore, but otherwise fine.”
Sam found himself nodding, accepting Dean’s answer and anticipating his return.
They listened the each other’s breathing for a minute before Dean spoke again.
“Hey, I’m gonna let you go, okay? But we’ll be home soon, I promise.”
“Okay Dean.”
With that, Dean hung up the phone and Sam held it up until it started
screeching.
-
It wasn’t a feeling he could describe, when he finally heard the rumble of the
Impala. He was tired, light-headed, and his heartbeat echoed wildly throughout
his body.
John entered the room first, headed to the bathroom to shower. He threw a
casual “Heya Sammy” over his shoulder with a satisfied smile at seeing his son
okay, and disappeared into the bathroom. Then there was Dean strutting through
the door, dirt streaking his clothes and circles under his eyes. Sam was on him
immediately, hugging as tight as he could, trying to show Dean how much he had
been missed.
Dean breathed a sigh, “Sammy,” and returned the hug, glad to be with his
brother again. He barely slept, missing the usual warmth of Sam by his side.
The water in the bathroom shut off, and they broke apart, Dean unpacking some
of his duffel.
John came from the bathroom, cleaned and dressed. He walked over to his boots
and sat to begin putting them on. He looked up at his boys. “I’m heading to the
bar tonight, kiddos. Just go to sleep at decent hour, okay?”
Before he left, he walked over to his oldest son, clapped him on the shoulder,
and told him, “Great job on the hunt son. Proud of you.”
After Dean’s shower, they both laid in bed, and Sam found himself clinging to
Dean while Dean told him about the hunt. It was a salt and burn, something
simple for Dean’s first hunt. Dad had Dean do most of it himself, testing his
abilities. Sam began tuning his brother out, finishing up the lifesaver he’d
stuck in his mouth.
He was nestled into Dean’s side, head resting on his chest, heart beating in
his ear. Sam couldn’t help himself. He sent out a tentative tongue and licked
at Dean’s nipple through his night shirt.
“Sammy?” he heard through the haze in his head. Sam wasn’t really listening
though. He wrapped both lips around the hardened nub and sucked hard,
innocently looking over at his brother. “Sa-hnng.” Dean was looking over at
him, mouth parted in a confused expression. “Sam,” his breathing was a little
harder, which made Sam feel a little better. “What’re you doing?”
“Don’t you ever get tired of me just sucking on your fingers? Don’t you ever
want me to suck on something else?” He grinned widely as he drew the nipple
back into his warm mouth, hearing Dean let out a pleasured sigh.
He heard the trembling in Dean’s voice as he said, “Sam c’mon, let’s just go to
bed. Not today.” He went to push Sam’s head away, but Sam dodged his hands and
slunk lower on the bed. Dean tried talking sternly, but Sam could see the tent
in his boxers, hear the want beneath each word. “Sam we can’t. Stop, c’mon.”
“Dean, I just want to suck it. Please. I really want to try. To see if I like
it.” Sam turned on the biggest, widest puppy dog eyes he had in his arsenal.
Dean could never deny him.
Dean just stared back for a second, then threw his head back onto the mattress.
“Fuck,” he said.
Sam smirked and took that as his answer. He pulled Dean’s boxers down, exposing
hardened flesh leaking at the tip. A warm tongue darted out, licking a hot
strip right up the middle. Dean groaned wordlessly.
Positioning himself at Dean’s hip, Sam rested his head on Dean’s belly, mouth
lined up with the head of his cock. It was big, average length but thick. Sam
lapped at the precome dripping from the slit in front of him, and then drew the
whole tip into his inviting mouth.
“Oh God,” Dean muttered. Sam smiled around the flesh, sucking gently, loving
the taste and feel. After a little while of that, he felt fingers in his hair.
Sam looked up, and what he saw instantly made him hard in his shorts. Dean’s
pupils were blown wide, lips wet and pink, skin flushed red under the freckles
that littered the apple of his cheeks. “Sammy, either you have to suck me or
I’m going to jack off.”
Sam had almost forgotten the sex, content to suckle on the member forever, but
he couldn’t leave Dean in such a state.
In between Dean’s legs, Sam took his brother into his mouth again, tongue lying
flat against the flesh as he drew his head up and down.
“Wrap your lips around your teeth and suck a little harder Sam,” Dean croaked
out.
When Sam did that and added a hand at the base of Dean’s cock, Dean moaned
loudly. “Just like that, baby. Just like that.” Sam lost himself in the task,
unsure how long he’d been blowing Dean, but soon he realized Dean was panting
hard staccato breaths, hips pumping under Sam’s head, and warm liquid filled
Sam’s mouth. He looked at Dean and grinned, swishing his brother’s come around
his mouth before swallowing.
Dean was speechless, sated and boneless under Sam as Sam laid his head back on
Dean’s tummy. “God, Sammy.”
Sam went to wrap his lips gently around Dean’s cock once more, this time more
pliant and soft in his mouth. Dean hissed at the sensation on his sensitive
flesh, but once Sam got settled, he calmed and they both fell into a deep
slumber.
-
That night, John stumbled in from the bar, drunk and tired. He’d been proud of
Dean for what he accomplished on the hunt, seventeen years old and better than
the majority of seasoned hunters John had encountered. The thing he couldn’t
shake sometimes, the thought that followed him into nightmares, was that this
was no life for his children. Always on the road, Sam a social recluse, Dean
chained to his little brother, and John an absentee parent. It wasn’t what Mary
would have wanted. And then he thinks, But Mary’s dead. Killed by an evil that
had to be stopped, an evil that had the power to destroy his Sammy.
John’s drunken thoughts were interrupted when he took a glance at the boys
sleeping in their bed. He wiped at his eyes, hoping they were wrong, but the
scene didn't change.
Grumbling, he went back out to the Impala, keying her open and sliding inside
to sleep for the rest of the night. He supposed he’ll just have to get separate
rooms from then on.
End Notes
     Apologies for any errors! Thanks for reading!
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