Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1495330.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural, Wincest_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Dean
      Winchester/John_Winchester, Dean_Winchester/John_Winchester/Sam
      Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Extreme_Underage, First_Time, Light_Bondage, Blow_Jobs, Anal_Sex, Dirty
      Talk, Topping_from_the_Bottom, Caught, Angst_and_Porn, Parent/Child
      Incest, Wincest_-_Freeform, Weecest, Bottom_Sam, Top_Dean, Easter, Sam_is
      a_Bunny, Prequel
  Series:
      Part 7 of Holidays_with_the_Wincesters
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-20 Words: 7168
****** Like Rabbits (A Wincest Easter) ******
by MothMeetsFlame
Summary
     Sammy's a bunny who's tired of not getting what he really wants.
     Dean's too tied up to protest, not that he wants to. John's more than
     a little surprised at the sight.
Notes
     Prequel to the series. This is the first time Dean/Sam/John get
     together.
     WARNING: Extreme underage. Sammy is 10 for this fic, putting Dean at
     14. Despite the ages, this is not non-con. Also contains incest. Lots
     and lots of incest between siblings and their father. If you don't
     like it, don't click. It's as simple as that.
     On another note, I got my first piece of hate mail the other day,
     making me an official Wincester! Woo! Despite the many warnings I
     placed, and tags to boot, someone decided to read the fic against
     their personal morals and values. I'm flattered to be considered a
     "revolting plebeian" and hope that others will find the description
     befitting for a slashfic writer such as myself, as I can only assume
     my writing is so ingenious that even the flamers are unable to keep
     from reading. Many thanks to my readers, and many more to the
     commenters. Whether good or bad, they are always appreciated :) Enjoy
     ;)
See the end of the work for more notes
It wasn't supposed to happen like this, Sammy thought with a low moan as his
brother pressed a slick finger inside of him. His breath hitched in his throat
when it crooked against his prostate and wiped any conscious thought from his
mind.
Dean chuckled, a breathless noise that Sammy knew meant his brother was just as
on edge as he was. He loved having his brother like this, wantingbut trying to
keep control of himself. Sammy vowed to make his brother lose it, if he could
get things back on track.
Dean kissed up his neck, sending shivers down his bare back, and bit him right
on the collar bone. He would have to wear higher-necked t-shirts for a week,
not that he was thinking about that. Instead, he gasped at the sudden pain and
shivered again when Dean mouthed at it, deepening what was sure to be a bad-
looking bruise when he was done. Sammy was far from complaining.
“Want you in me, baby boy,” Dean all but moaned into his ear. “Wanna feel you.”
Sammy groaned at the words, hips canting uncontrollably to the rhythm of Dean's
movement. How was he supposed to pass that up? If he'd stuck with the plan, it
would have been pretty easy, but Dean wasn't one to play by the rules,
especially when Sammy made them, which was why he was now brain dead from over-
stimulation as Dean whispered filth into his ear.  
Dammit, Dean! His brother just didn't play fair.
“No, Dean,” he managed to whisper. “The--ah--plan.”
“What plan?” Dean asked.
Maybe he'd forgotten to tell his brother about his plans after all. Well, it
was too late to do anything about that. Sammy brought his lips up to lap at
Dean's nipple, eliciting a delicious moan from his brother. Who was he kidding?
It wasn't too late for anything if he could make Dean gasp and moan like that.
“Trust me?” Sammy asked, examining Dean's face for any hint of dishonesty.
Dean opened his eyes and looked right back, his face more open than Sam had
ever seen it, eyes blown wide with barely concealed lust. “Always,” he said,
surprised that Sammy even needed to ask.
“Good,” Sammy said, slipping out from under Dean and leaving him alone on the
bed. He ignored the hurt look on his brother’s face in favor of gathering
supplies. Dean's eyebrow crooked when he pulled a length of rope from the bag,
but he didn't comment, just let Sam get what he needed before coming back to
bed.
“Hold onto the headboard,” Sammy ordered, his voice as hard as their father's.
The response was automatic. Dean's arms went up and gripped the headboard, and
an immediate shiver of pleasure went through him.
“Stay,” Sammy commanded. Dean trembled a little, but Sam saw no discomfort on
his face, only arousal and a large amount of gleeful anticipation.
Dean did as he was told, holding right to the headboard while Sammy tied him
up. The bonds we're loose enough that Dean could slip them, but tight enough
that they wouldn't come undone on their own. It was good practice. Their father
would be proud.
Sammy held in his scoff. If their father ever found out what they were up to,
they'd be in for a beating. It didn't matter that they'd hardly been hit in
their lives—outside of sparring practice, of course. Their father would kill
them if he knew.
“You okay?” Dean asked, concern etched on his face.
Sammy realized he'd gotten distracted and focused his attention back on his
brother. “Perfect,” he said in what he hoped was a seductive tone. Judging from
the way his brother shivered again, he'd gotten it right.
“Why wouldn't I be perfect?” Sammy asked, eyes raking Dean's bare torso. “I
have you here, under me, all to myself.” He leaned down and captured Dean's
bottom lip between his teeth. He bit down just enough to break skin, loving it
when Dean moaned his name. Sammy kissed it all better.
Dean was a truly wonderful kisser. His lips were thick and plush, so smooth,
and they knew just how to move to bring Sammy closer to the edge. Like it was
with everything else, all he had to do was follow Dean and he'd find what he
needed. This time, though, Sammy was the first to pull back, leaving his mouth
in favor of pressing light kisses to his jaw, trailing his lips up until he was
right at Dean's ear.
“Got a surprise for you, Dean,” he said, and he was off of the bed again,
smiling wide at the loud groan Dean let out when they lost contact.
Sammy shuffled through his duffle bag, searching until he found what he was
looking for and put them on. Then he returned to Dean’s bedside and took a
moment to appreciate the sight of Dean all splayed out for him, ready for the
taking. The lithe muscles pulled against their bonds, but didn’t break free,
and his cock bobbed slightly with every movement, so hard it was leaking,
though they’d only been at this a few minutes. Sammy licked his lips, wanting a
taste.
“What’s that?” Dean asked him.
“It’s Easter, Dean. I thought I’d dress up.” Sammy smiled mischievously as his
brother took in the outfit—pink bunny ears and panties. Dean didn’t know the
best part though, Sammy thought, so he turned slightly, showing off his poufy
bunny tail over the pink satin panties. He knew his butt was just starting to
fill out, round and smooth like Dean liked it. The tail only made it better in
his opinion.
Apparently in Dean’s too because he tried to reach out for a touch, only
catching himself on the bonds. He let out a broken grunt, caught between
wanting to feel Sammy and wanting to be good for him.
Sammy wasn’t cruel enough to stay away for long. He crawled back up on the bed,
arms and legs splayed out over Dean. He kissed Dean once, nice and deep, before
pulling away and whispering seductively into his ear.
“Gonna take you, big brother. Gonna make you scream my name. Gonna put you in
my mouth and suck you 'til you cream and mark you 'til you're hard again, make
you remember who you belong to. Then I'm gonna ride you, Dean, bounce on your
huge cock 'til you shoot inside me, and imma keep you in me all night so you
know who I belong to, and in the morning, when we wake up, I have a surprise
for you.”
If Dean was shocked at the filth pouring from Sammy's mouth, it was nothing
compared to Sam's shock. He was equal parts mystified and terrified that he'd
been so brazen, but Dean was now struggling beneath him, cock straining for
friction and finding it against the silk of his ass, letting out low moans of
pleasure, and Sam just couldn't bring himself to regret anything.
Sammy saw Dean's lips moving and he brought himself closer to hear.
“Oh, God, Sammy, my Sammy, please. Please, Sammy. Oh, God.”
Sammy smirked at the writhing mess he'd reduced Dean to with a few simple
words. He normally wasn't this vocal in bed, but if this was what happened when
he was, he was definitely trying it again in the near future.
“You like that, Dean?” he asked, blowing lightly on his left nipple before
lathering it with nips and licks. Dean's nipples had always been sensitive, but
any attention that Sam ever wanted to pay them was normally lost in the ecstasy
of Dean taking him in his mouth or showering him with praise or pressing slick
fingers inside him. This time, it was Sammy's turn to take care of Dean.
“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean whispered, not nearly loud enough for his liking.
Sammy bit down a little harder, forcing Dean's eyes open with a gasp. He met
Dean's searching gaze. “Said I was gonna make you scream,” Sammy said. “Won't
work if you're holding it in, Dean.”
Then he returned to Dean's nipples, capturing one in his mouth while he pinched
and prodded the other. It wasn't long before Dean's moans grew louder, his
words gaining volume even as they lacked coherency. It was then that Sammy
decided to move on.
He'd never tasted Dean's cock before, but it had been at the forefront of his
mind for as long as he could remember. They'd only started this thing between
them a few months ago, but since then, it had been fast moving, from traded
kisses in the backseat of the Impala to hand jobs under the sheets while their
father was on a Hunt. Dean was always the one in charge, and to be honest,
Sammy preferred it that way.
Dean knew when too much was too much and when he needed more, was always there
with a 'you okay, Sammy?' and a kiss to make it better. Dean was his
everything, but now it was Sammy's turn to take the reins, to finally get what
he wanted. Dean never let Sammy get him off--it was only ever one way, Dean
doing this for Sammy—but now Dean didn't have much of a choice, and Sammy knew
his brother would enjoy it as much as he would.
Dean's hips canted up as Sammy moved with slow kisses down to his naval. Sammy
stopped at Dean’s hip, making sure to suck a bruise there for Dean to see when
he showered. He could imagine the small parting of his lips as he discovered
the mark, the way his cock would instantly harden and how Dean would grip the
shaft tight and move with slow strokes, bringing himself to climax with Sammy's
name on his lips.
That thought on his mind, he sucked another just like it on the other hip.
“Sammy, please,” Dean moaned, half frustration, half pleasure. He was louder
this time, though, and Sammy was happy that Dean was losing himself more and
more with each passing moment.
He could feel his own prick leaking into his panties, getting so sensitive that
he thought just the touch of the silk against him would set him off. Every
moan, every movement had him aching. It could only get better, he knew,
especially when it was him making Dean make those noises, was his name that
Dean was chanting.
Sammy moved lower until he was right at Dean's engorged cock. His own was
small, three inches—hard—and even that was a stretch. Dean said it would get
bigger when he hit puberty, would start making real come too, but Sammy didn’t
care about his own so much as he cared about Dean’s. He knew it wasn’t huge,
but as far as he was concerned, it was perfect. It was smooth and sleek with
precome, and it curved just slightly, straining toward his stomach. The head
was thick and purple with a need for release. The best thing, though, was the
size. It didn’t matter who it was—Sammy just reveled in the fact that it was
him Dean chose—his brother’s cock would fill anybody up, would push them right
to the edge.
He settled himself between his brother's legs and licked his lips, wanting a
taste. He grasped the shaft lithely in his hands. His small fingers wrapped
themselves around it perfectly, and Dean groaned.
“So big,” Sammy said reverently. “Don't know if it's gonna fit, Dean, but it's
okay cause I'll make it fit. Wanna swallow it whole, choke on it. Can I do
that, Dean?”
Dean’s quick intake of breath and a fresh spurt of precome was the only answer
he got. He looked up and met Dean's eyes, not surprised in the least to find
his brother's pupils blown wide. His cheeks were flushed. His mouth opened and
closed as his mind and body warred for control, but neither of them succeeded.
“Guess it doesn't matter,” Sammy said, smiling. “You can't stop me this time.”
He laughed at Dean's shocked look.
“Yeah, I know you've been trying to distract me from this, but now it's my turn
to taste.”
Without further preamble, Sammy turned his attention back to Dean's cock
watching with rapt attention as another bead of precome dribbled from the tip
down the shaft. He’d always wondered what it tasted like.
Then realized that he didn't have to wonder anymore.
Sammy licked a trail up Dean's shaft, from the base to the head, and latched
onto the tip, wrapping his lips around it and sucking more of the bitter fluid
into his mouth. It was good, different than he'd imagined, but purely one-
hundred percent Dean and that made it delicious. Sammy knew that he'd come to
crave the taste of Dean in his mouth, and he hoped that his brother would let
him do this more after today.
Dean's moans became gasps of breath as he fought to keep control, but Sammy
just smiled around the cock in his mouth, knowing that it wouldn't be long
before he lost it completely. His prick twitched with the thought, spilling
another mass of precome into his panties, but Sammy didn’t pay it any
attention. He suckled Dean’s head, running his tongue under the rim and pulling
back to kiss it gently.
Dean peeked down at him through lidded eyes, so lost in ecstasy that he wasn't
sure Dean would understand, but he tried to get through to him anyway. He
kissed the head one more time, bringing Dean back to him. “Mine,” he growled
possessively.
Dean's answer was an uninhibited groan.
He was gone now, Sammy knew. Consciousness wasn’t even a thought in his mind.
Sammy didn't waste any more time. He took Dean into his mouth once again, this
time as deep as he could until his brother was pressed against the back of his
throat. He gagged so good on the cock in his mouth, a compulsive moan slipping
from deep within him. If didn’t matter that it wouldn’t fit, Sammy pressed
harder, taking Dean into his throat until he couldn’t breathe. Then he hollowed
his cheeks and pulled back, creating a suction that had Dean's eyes rolling
into the back of his head.
“Sammy!”
Sammy smiled at that and repeated the motion, using his tongue this time to
caress the underside of Dean's thickening cock with every pass. Dean bucked up
into the tight heat of Sammy's mouth, forcing another low moan from him. Sammy
couldn't help it. His brother gripping the headboard and moaning his name as
his hips forced more into him, making him gag on it… it was a mind-blowing
sense of power, and Sammy’s prick was painfully hard at the force of it.
Sammy groaned again and that was all it took to have Dean pouring down his
throat, more than he could have had any hope of swallowing, but he tried
anyway. He wanted everything Dean gave him. A small stream of come dripped down
his chin when he couldn’t swallow fast enough, and his tongue slipped out to
catch it before it could dribble onto his chest, fingers trailing it to scoop
up whatever his tongue left behind.
When he finished cleaning himself up, he bent down again and cleaned Dean,
licking everything he could get into his mouth. Sammy reveled in the choking
gasps Dean was making, completely beyond whole sentences, barely even able to
say his name anymore.
It was cruel, he knew, to keep mouthing at Dean’s cock when he was so
sensitive, but Sammy wasn’t sure he ever wanted to stop. It didn’t matter to
him that Dean was soft. His cock was still perfect, fit so snugly in his mouth,
slack against his tongue. He licked at the tip one last time and sighed in
contentment as he rose to drape his small body over Dean’s. He rested his head
on his brother’s shoulder, and they both tried to steady their breathing.
Sammy nibbled on Dean’s collarbone, loving the way it jutted out just that
little bit whenever Dean inhaled. His fingers snaked up to absentmindedly play
with Dean’s nipples, using soft caresses of his fingertips to elicit the most
miniscule shivers that Sammy wouldn’t have noticed had he not been so aware of
Dean’s every movement. When his breathing was as close to even as it was going
to get, he pulled himself up to straddle Dean’s hips, his brother’s hard cock
tapping against his back, already at full mast.
“Ready, Dean?” Sammy asked. He searched his brother’s face for any hint of
discomfort at what they were about to do, but it held nothing but a need that
Sam had never seen so openly displayed in his brother. Dean’s cheeks were
flushed red from his recent orgasm, highlighting the light peppering of
freckles on his cheeks. Sammy vowed to count them one day before they were
gone.
“Always ready, Sammy,” Dean said.
It was music to Sammy’s ears. He smiled wide and leaned down to capture Dean’s
mouth for reassurance. To be honest, he was nervous, more nervous than he
thought he’d be, but this was Dean. This was the one person who would never do
anything to hurt him, so he knew he was ready.
Sammy swung off of the bed and lowered the panties. He was slightly
disappointed that he couldn’t keep them on, but with having to choose between
wearing the panties and having Dean’s cock inside of him, he didn’t even
hesitate to pick the latter. Besides, he still had the ears.
He reached for the lube on the nightstand and slicked three of his fingers
before straddling Dean’s hips again. He reached behind him and circled his rim,
hesitating only a moment. He pressed a single finger inside, barely letting
himself adjust, and then he was moving it in and out, wiggling it inside of
him. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of having something in his hole.
It didn’t happen often enough for him to be satisfied.
Dean had never put anything but fingers in him before. Sammy knew that Dean
liked to open him up, had done it for over an hour before, but he’d never done
any more than that. Sometimes, when Dean wanted—when Sammy almost begged—Dean
would let Sammy play with his hole, slide his small cock inside of Dean and
come inside of him.
Dean loved when Sammy did that, but Sammy was small. Dean’s cock wasn’t the
largest he’d ever seen—moving from motel to motel, he’d seen a lot of porn so
he knew a lot about big cocks—but he still seemed too big to fit in Sammy’s
tiny hole. Dean had told him once that he was surprised that he could even fit
a finger inside of him, that he was tight. Sammy knew he was tight. It had hurt
a lot then, his first time. Wouldn’t this hurt more? Then Sammy remember the
look on Dean’s face when Sammy rocked into him, and it was enough to have him
wanting this, wanting Dean.
One finger became two, but that was nothing compared to the size of Dean’s
length. Sammy’s fingers were so tiny that it would take all four to stretch him
wide enough to take Dean’s cock. It took three fingers for him to notice the
burn, so he pulled out and added more lube before plunging them back in, out,
in, out until he couldn’t keep his own hips from canting into the touch.
Sammy added a fourth finger and peeked at Dean through his lashes, surprised to
find his brother’s eyes wide and enraptured by him. His breaths came in shallow
pants through red parted lips, directly in contrast to Sammy’s mewls.
When all four fingers moved easily inside of him and he was gasping for breath,
his own cock rock hard and wanting just that little bit more, he knew he was
ready.
Sammy removed his fingers and slid them along the shaft at his back, slicking
it up, readying it.
“You sure about this, Sammy?” Dean asked, his concern bellied by a moan as Sam
finally paid his cock some attention.
Sammy nodded his head so fast, he thought it might detach at the neck. “Been
dreaming about it, Dean. Need to feel you in me. Want it.”
He lined himself up with Dean’s cock and, before he could wuss out, plunged
himself down, bottoming out in one fell swoop. He cried out as he was stretched
further than he thought capable, partly in pain, but mostly in surprise at how
great it felt to have Dean pressed against the most intimate parts of him. He
could feel tears trailing down his cheeks, but he didn’t care, lost in the
pleasure of having Dean inside of him, finally.
“Sammy?” Dean’s voice was raw and terrified, but Sam didn’t pay him any
attention. He knew that Dean was worried he was hurt, but it wasn’t a bad pain.
No, not at all. It was possibly the best thing he’d ever felt, and he needed
more, now. Maybe if he—
Sammy placed his palms flat against Dean’s chest and used them as leverage to
lift his hips until only the tip was inside. He was slower this time as he
lowered himself on Dean’s cock, gasping when something inside of him had him
seeing stars. “OhGodsogood,” he moaned, unable to keep quiet.
Sammy worked himself up and down on Dean’s cock, faster and faster, bouncing so
forcefully that his bunny ears tumbled to the floor, lost in a sea of gasps and
groans as his prostate was repeatedly stimulated. His head swam with pleasure,
overwhelming him more than Dean ever had before. He could feel something
building up inside of him, bringing him to the edge, threatening to push him
over, and he wanted nothing more than to fall over whatever cliff it was that
would bring him release.
“Saaaaammyyy,” Dean groaned, using what leverage he could to meet each of
Sammy’s thrusts with ones of his own. He strained against his bindings, but
they held tight. Then Dean shot, hot and pulsing, inside of him, slicking the
way even more so that Sammy could move faster on top of him.
“DeanDeanDeanDeanDean.”
It was all he could think of to say.
Then he cried out, Dean’s name on his lips, as he came without even a hand on
his tiny prick, small strands of release striking Dean’s chest.
“Oh, God, Sammy. That-That was…” Dean let out a small half-chuckle through his
panting. “Damn.”
“Mmmmmm,” Sammy moaned lazily as he collapsed against Dean, not caring in the
least that he was lying in a small pool of his own come. He could feel his
brother softening inside of him, but didn’t move to part from him. He wasn’t
joking when he’d said he wanted to sleep with Dean in him, wanted to feel him
whenever he moved during the night, wanted to wake up with Dean hard and
wanting and go another round, wanted—
The thought was cut off by the telltale sound of a key in the lock.
“Shit,” Dean cursed. “Fuck, fuck!”
Sammy sat up quickly and looked down at Dean’s wet chest, at his own sweat-
slick body, and realized that, no matter what they did now, there would be no
hiding what had happened.
The door opened and their father stepped inside, face frozen in shock, hand
still on the doorknob.
Before John could unfreeze, Dean slipped his bindings and twisted Sammy behind
him, kneeling onto the floor, the bed between them and their father. Dean’s
hand snaked under the pillow, pulling a knife from beneath it.
Sammy felt Dean’s come dribble from his hole and down his thigh, causing an
involuntary shiver. He’d been wanting to feel it just like that for months. His
prick twitched at the feel of it, fighting through his fear with arousal.
“Dean,” John said, trance broken. He held his hands up in a placating gesture.
“I, uh… I…” He cleared his throat, clearly caught off guard.
Sammy trembled from behind Dean, scared, but still wanting, liking the way his
father’s eyes raked quickly over his body before plastering themselves on
Dean’s face, steadfastly refusing to look anywhere else.
Was he angry? Sammy wondered. Would they have to stop? Surely, they wouldn’t be
separated, would they? The last thought had Sammy whimpering, and it wasn’t in
arousal this time.
“I’m… going to grab a drink in town,” John said. He looked sadder than Sammy
had ever seen him, but he wasn’t disgusted or angry. Sammy didn’t know what it
meant, but the look pulled at him in a way that he couldn’t explain. “Be ready
to… leave in the morning.”
With that, he was gone. The door closed quietly, and then nothing. The sound of
the Impala couldn’t be heard, though both boys listened for it, but the door
didn’t open again, and their father didn’t return.
“What the hell?” Dean asked once he was sure their father wasn’t coming back.
Sammy didn’t think it was a real question, but he answered anyway. “I don’t
know,” he said.
“Well, at least he wasn’t pissed off,” Dean said, smirking in relief now that
the danger had passed.
Sammy frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, pulling him closer and lifting his chin so he could
look him in the eye. “You know I won’t let anything bad happen, right?”
Sammy bit his lip. It wasn’t that, nothing even close. “I think…” He took a
deep breath. “I think he was sad.”
Dean scoffed. “Of course he was sad. He walked in on us, Sammy. He’s not gonna
be rainbows and sunshine after that.”
Sammy shook his head. “No, Dean. I mean, he was, like, really sad, not
disappointed or anything, just sad. I think… I think he wanted…” Sammy shook
his head again, shaking the thought away, but Dean understood.
“You mean he…?”
Sammy nodded.
“Huh.” Dean sat on the bed. His eyebrows creased in thought, and Sammy crawled
in his lap, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Things were always better when
Dean was closer. “You ever thought about it, Sammy?”
Sammy bit his lip. Of course he’d thought about it. Even before he thought
about Dean like that, he thought about his dad stretching him wide, lips
parting against his, panting and moaning his name. Yeah, he’d thought about it.
Sammy nodded, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Huh,” Dean said again.
“Have you?” Sammy asked in a small voice.
Dean was so wrapped in thought that he didn’t hear. “What?” he asked.
“Have you ever thought about Dad… likethat?”
“Yeah,” Dean murmured. “Used to all the time, Sammy. Wanted him to…” Dean shook
his head. “It doesn’t matter ‘cause it’s not gonna happen.”
Sammy wasn’t so sure. He grabbed his boxers off of the floor where he dropped
them in exchange for the panties, and opened the door to the hotel. Sure
enough, John was there, sitting in the driver’s seat of the Impala, head down
on the steering wheel.
“What the hell are you doing, Sammy?! Get inside! Someone’s gonna see!”
But Sammy didn’t listen.
He checked to make sure no one was around—the hotel room was out of the way
enough that not even the desk clerk could see them—before he crossed the
walkway to the Impala.
John looked up in surprise when the passenger side door opened, but didn’t say
anything as Sammy scoot across the bench seat to kneel at his side. Sammy
noticed that he didn’t make a move to distance himself either.
“Dad,” Sammy said.
John watched his son with rapt attention, trying his hardest not to flick his
eyes over his son’s exposed skin.
“Daddy,” Sammy whispered, and just that word alone shot lust straight through
him.
No.
He knew it was wrong, to want his sons like that, sick. Even sparring was
hard—was he holding his son because he truly needed to show him something, or
because he wanted to be closer?—but he thought he’d taken care of that, leaving
often enough that he could pretend he didn’t want his boys. Now, though, with
Sammy here, only half clothed, big brown eyes peeking up at him through thick
lashes and silky hair, it was hard—so hard—to say no.
“I asked,” Sammy said, voice pitched low enough that John could barely make out
the words.
John was confused. “Asked what?” he wondered aloud, voice just barely void of
tears. It had been a long time since something had affected him this much.
“For Dean,” Sammy whispered. “Every night, kept asking and asking and asking.
Dean didn’t know for a long time, not ‘til fall last year, but Dean was asking
too.”
John looked at his youngest, seeing that whatever he said now was going to
affect him hugely. Could he condone this? Telling Sammy that it was wrong to
want his brother would break his heart, but wouldn’t it be worse to let him
continue?
“Dean didn’t let it happen at first, you know.” Sammy smirked, so like Dean
that John couldn’t help but smile in return. “Kept saying stuff like I was too
little and it was wrong, but he understands now. At least, I think he
understands now.” Sammy’s smile was small and private.
“You may not think so, but you are too young, Sammy,” John said, gritting his
teeth at the words. He hated saying no to his boy, but it seemed as if he was
just going to have to get used to it. “You may like boys—which is fine,” he was
quick to say. “I won’t judge.” He let the steering wheel go and put his hands
in his lap, trying to keep them from shaking. “But your brother isn’t the only
one for you. I know you boys do everything together, and it’s my fault for
leaving you alone so often, but when you’re older you’ll realize that there’s a
world outside of your brother.”
Sammy scoffed and turned away. “I’m not an idiot.”
“I never said you were,” John said slowly.
Sammy’s eyes were fierce when they turned back to meet him. “Then why do you
keep talking out of your ass, thinking that I haven’t thought this through?
Because I’m a kid?” he asked, taking the words right out of John’s mouth.
“Newsflash, Dad, I haven’t really had a chance to be a kid.”
John looked away, unable to find any words to argue against that statement.
Sammy had had a childhood almost as much as Dean had. They’d grown up in the
life, moving from place to place, hunting creatures of nightmare, dealing with
death on a daily basis. There’d never been a place for a childhood in the
Winchester family.
John’s train of thought was interrupted when Sammy crawled onto his lap and
rested his cheek on John’s shoulder. “’M sorry,” he mumbled. “That wasn’t
fair.”
“No. You’re right.” John loathed the words, but he couldn’t refute the truth of
them.
He could feel Sammy’s smirk against his neck. “I know.” There was a pause
before he spoke again. “I’m also right about this.”
John didn’t have anything to say about that.
“You know, we’ve been in a lot of hotel rooms. I’ve watched a lot of porn.”
John swallowed roughly. It was one thing to talk big picture, quite another to
get into the particulars.
“I don’t like it,” Sammy admitted. “You know why?”
He seemed to be waiting for an answer, so John shook his head, not trusting
himself to speak.
“It’s ‘cause I don’t think I like guys or girls. I like Dean. The first time I
watched one of those movies was when you and Dean were gone in Michigan,
remember?”
John nodded. It had been the first time he’d ever left Sammy alone without
Dean. They’d only been gone a day, but he hadn’t had the heart to do it again
since then. Maybe when he was older.
“I took a long shower and touched myself. It was only ‘cause I didn’t know if
it really felt good, and it didn’t when I started ‘cause I was picturing just
regular guys. Then, I thought about Dean—Dean’s hands on me, Dean touching me
everywhere—and it felt real good after that.”
Sammy paused again, and when he continued, his voice was shaky, like he was
holding back tears. “I was so scared when it was over ‘cause I thought he’d
know how bad I was thinking of him like that. I mean, I knew brothers weren’t
like that, but I wanted… I…”
John’s arms came up around Sammy, holding him tight while he tried to regain
control of himself.
“I don’t want something like that,” Sammy said. “Like those guys in the video.
They pretended to like each other and moaned real loud like they liked it, but
it was all fake. I want Dean. You know what he does for me, Daddy?”
And there was that damned nickname again, threatening to harden his cock. How
the hell had Sammy gotten on his lap anyway? Shit, shit, shit.
“He takes care of me. He can tell me everything he needs to with just one look,
and he can make me squirm and moan with just one touch. He gets off on seeing
me, and when he takes me in his mouth, he moans at that taste and swallows
everything I give him like it’s a treat, something special from his Sammy.
That’s what I have, Daddy. I have someone like that.”
Sammy pulled back and looked right into John’s eyes, his own sparkling with
mischief.
“But,” he continued. “Now I can have two.”
John was confused for a moment before realization dawned on him. Sammy wanted
him. Sammy wanted him. Oh fuck, fuck, oh, fuck. Shit.
“Not that Dean isn’t enough. He took real good care of me while you were gone,
Daddy. Filled me up all the way.”
Sammy leaned in and whispered softly into John’s ear, grinding his hips down to
stimulate John’s half-hard erection.
“He came inside me, Daddy, so much it was leaking,” and John couldn’t take it
anymore. He tangled his fingers into his son’s hair and pulled Sammy’s mouth to
his, licking his way inside and allowing their tongues to mingle together.
Sammy’s was so small compared to his, but it was smooth and sweet, and John
wanted nothing more than to keep the memory of that taste with him everywhere
he went.
It was wrong, so wrong, but he didn’t really happen to care in that moment. All
he cared about was taking care of his boy. He heard someone clear their throat,
and glanced out the window to see Dean standing there, smirking. His boys, he
corrected in his mind. Plural. Both boys wanted him.
“You wanna share, Sammy?” Dean asked, chuckling at his brother’s enthusiasm.
John tried prying his son off, but Sammy clung to him, peppering kisses down
his neck and onto his shoulder.
“Nuh-uh, Dee,” kiss, “’s mine,” kiss. Then Sammy’s mouth claimed his again and
John’s brain short-circuited.
“I’m older.”
Sammy pulled back for a half-second. “’M cuter.”
“Boys,” John chastised, causing both of them to shiver.
“Yeah, Daddy?” they both asked at the same time, forcing a shiver to crawl down
his own back. Damn, that was possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever heard.
“Enough,” he said, making his voice hard. “We’ll deal with this inside.”
Sammy pouted, but he pulled away and shuffled out of the Impala, mumbling
arguments as he made his way back inside the hotel room. Sammy plopped himself
down on the bed, laying back and spreading wide. The site shouldn’t have
thickened John’s cock, but it did.
Before he could speak, however, Dean was on him. His eldest tackled him to the
opposite bed and his lips came down in a bruising kiss, wild and unadulterated,
filled with a lust he hadn’t thought anyone capable of. John heard a moan,
surprised when he realized it was coming from deep within his own throat. He
kissed back, not thinking a damn thing as his son’s tongue slipped inside for a
taste. It was warm and wet and tasted different than he thought it would, but
it was Dean, and, despite never having tasted him before, he would recognize it
anywhere.
Lithe fingers that could have only belonged to his youngest moved against his
naval, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them and his boxers down to reveal his
fully erect cock.
John broke the kiss to ask, “What are you—?” But then Sammy grabbed the base
with his small hands and licked the tip, taking away whatever it was he’d
wanted to say. John’s head flew back into the mattress, completely lost with
his boys touching him this way.
Dean’s head came down to mouth at John ear. “He likes to taste,” his eldest
said and John nodded, not really registering anything outside of Sammy’s mouth
on his cock. He bucked up into the wet heat, looking for more, and was met with
a throaty chuckle from his eldest.
Dean was off of him in an instant, disappearing to who knew where, while Sammy
continued with little kitten licks at the head of his cock. It wasn’t enough,
not nearly, but the small swipes had him twitching in pleasure as shivers
racked his body. He didn’t think it was possible for the need inside of him to
grow, but it did with every pass of Sammy’s tongue.
“Said you had to share, Sammy,” Dean reprimanded playfully, his hand joining
his brother’s on the shaft of John’s cock. Dean stroked his hand up and down,
allowing John’s arousal to build.
Sammy wrapped his lips around John’s head, sucking lightly, taking every bit of
precome John had to offer. Dean’s strokes increased their speed, fingers
clenched just tight enough around his aching cock. The other hand moved lower,
fondling John’s balls, rolling them between his fingers, and John was lost.
“Dee –Sa’my, gonna… so close…”
But neither of them seemed to care other than to help him along. Sammy’s mouth
moved lower, trying to take as much as he could until John’s cock was tapping
against the back of his throat. Dean’s hands sped up, bring him quickly to
climax. With a moan, John came down Sammy’s throat, unable to see his youngest
swallow everything or his eldest watch wide-eyed as his brother came untouched
from simply sucking down John’s cock.
John hadn’t realized how much tension he’d had in his muscles until his entire
body relaxed in the afterglow. His eyelids were heavy, too heavy to keep open,
but he pried them apart anyway.
Sammy’s smile was blinding, though his eyes were heavily lidded, showing his
exhaustion. Dean’s smile was slightly strained and John saw why. His eldest
son’s cock had been sorely neglected, something that didn’t sit right with him.
His boys had given him the orgasm of his life. It was the least he could do to
return the favor, never mind that he’d been dreaming of seeing both of his boys
come since Dean had hit double digits.
“Come ‘ere, Dean,” John said, motioning his son over.
“Yeah, Dad?” Dean asked.
John pulled him down and twisted them both so that Dean was on his back on the
bed and John was draped over him. He crushed their lips together like Dean had
earlier, hard and brutal and raw in a way it hadn’t been for him in a long
time. He bit down lightly, dragging Dean’s lower lip with him until he was
forced to let it go in favor of his neck, then his chest, his stomach, naval.
Then John was level with his son’s cock, beautiful and flushed red with
arousal, the head a light purple with need.
It had been a long time since John had sucked cock, but like riding a bike, he
couldn’t forget. He took his son into his mouth and sucked lightly, running his
tongue over the head and then lower. Dean gasped and groaned, sounds that
worked to liven John’s flaccid cock, even though it was much too soon. So
entranced in the sounds Dean was making, John forgot about his youngest until
he heard a quiet, “Daddy?”
Without moving his mouth from Dean, John sought out Sammy, finding him in an
instant.
“Let me?” Sammy asked. He held up two slick fingers—When had he gotten lube?
Where had he gotten lube?—and looked deliberately at Dean.
John nodded, moving his mouth faster up and down Dean’s swollen cock, eliciting
another gasp and a small cry from him.
Sammy toyed with Dean’s rim for an instant before plunging the fingers inside.
He set a punishing pace, forcing them in fast and deep without warning. John
knew when Sammy hit Dean’s prostate because his eldest began to clumsily buck
his hips, unable to decide between Sammy’s fingers pressing against a spot
inside of him that had him seeing stars and his father’s hot, wet mouth that
was better than any of his fantasies.
He didn’t have to wait long though. With nothing more than a grunt for warning,
Dean shot, hot and slick, into John’s mouth. John wasted no time in swallowing
each and every drop, savoring the taste of Dean once more—the same taste as
every other part of him, only more somehow—and then he pulled off, not wanting
to play with the oversensitive cock while it might cause him pain.
John rolled over and tried to steady his breathing. It had been incredible,
better than he’d ever imagined, and wasn’t that horrible? Oh, God, he thought.
I’m a monster.
Sammy yawned and moved closer to snuggle up to John, pulling those thoughts
away from him. Dean tucked himself into John’s other side, shoving the thoughts
deep down, never to be heard from again..
“Sleep now,” Dean said. “Freak out later.”
“Or never,” Sammy amended, letting loose another yawn.
The yawn was contagious. John found himself yawning as well, completely
exhausted after such an amazing orgasm.
“Sammy?”
“Yeah, Dean?”
“You still have those ears?”
Sammy smiled into John’s side. Nothing good could ever come from a smile like
that.
“Yeah,” he said. “Next to the bed. They fell off when I was riding you.”
John groaned. It was too soon for him to want to go another round, but his cock
didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.
“Good. I think we need to show Dad what he missed out on before he walked in.”
Sammy nodded. “Nap first though. ‘M tired.”
“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean agreed. “Nap first.” He yawned again, followed by Sammy,
then John, and they all fell asleep without any thoughts beside the comfort of
being in each others’ arms.
End Notes
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