Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5342894.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Wincest_-_Freeform, Weecest, First_Time, Rimming, First_Time_Blow_Jobs,
      69_(Sex_Position), Anal_Fingering, Anal_Sex, Dirty_Talk, Forbidden
      Desires, Brother/Brother_Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-03 Words: 3091
****** My weakness ******
by Poetic_Disaster
Summary
     Dean thinks Sam may just be the death of him... Of that he's quite
     certain.
Notes
     What started out as fluff quickly turned into pure porn and I will
     not apologize for it. I never know where the story is gonna take me,
     I'm just as much along for the ride as you guys are, but I'm
     genuinely happy about where this one ended up. I really hope you guys
     enjoy. Comments, as always, are most appreciated. :)
     Also... No age is specified but in my head Sam is 15. Dean is 19.
Dean's eyes feel like sandpaper; dry and gritty with the lack of sleep but he
forces them to stay open, eyes on the road, as he makes his way up the winding,
rain soaked highway, while his father sleeps silently in the passenger seat
beside him.
He sneaks a peek at his baby brother, also asleep, in the back seat. Long,
lean, legs stretched out as best as he can. Head pressed against the window,
pouty lips lax and partly open, his face obscured by his shaggy, unruly hair
and Dean can't help but smile. He's beautiful, his brother, and Dean's beyond
denying to himself that he hasn't noticed how much Sam has come into his own as
of late.
How his face had lost its rounded, child-like shape, replaced with chiseled
cheek bones that make Dean want to reach out and run his fingers across the
soft skin, just to see how it would feel under his calloused touch. His arms
were crossed, the fabric of his shirt bunched tightly around the newly formed
muscles underneath. His skin is still tan from swimming almost every day over
the summer and yeah, Dean's noticed… so has his dick, and he re-adjusts himself
in his pants and focuses his eyes back on the road ahead.
 He's acknowledged that the feelings he has for Sam are fucked up, and are in
no way normal, he just doesn't give a shit. So what if he thinks about how
pretty those lips would look stretched around his dick, or how good it would
feel to be buried deep inside him, it's not like he would ever act on any of
his impulses…ever. His job is to protect Sam, even if that means from himself
and if there's one thing Dean Winchester does better than anything else, it's
his job. Plain and simple.
It's almost two in the morning by the time they finally arrive, exhaustion
weighing heavy on Dean as he pushes the door of the impala open and steps out
into the chilly night air. Sam stirs awake when Dean closes the door, the sound
reverberating in the otherwise empty space. He grabs their bags and they make
their way inside, their dad not even voicing a simple goodbye as he climbs into
the driver's seat and disappears into the night.
"Come on Sammy," Dean said, placing a warm hand on Sam's back. "Let's get some
sleep."
 Making his way down the hall, he cranks the thermostat to 78 and gives an
approving grunt as the unit roars to life. He does a quick walk through,
efficiently salting the windows and doors before going to the only bedroom and
curling up beside his baby brother, arms wrapped tightly around his waist,
reveling in the warmth and softness of his skin.
 It had been so long since they'd last shared a bed and Dean maybe, kinda
missed it, not that he would ever admit that out loud. It's a fleeting thought
as sleep finally claims Dean about two minutes later.
 He wakes up to an empty bed and for a moment, his brain still hazy with sleep,
goes on alert.
 "Sam?" He calls out, relaxing a moment  later when his brother's voice echos
back letting him know he's in the kitchen.
 "Come eat, I made pancakes," Sam yells, and Dean's stomach gives an approving
growl.
Throwing off the covers and making his way to the kitchen, he can't help but
smile as he takes in the sight of his brother covered in flour. He lets out a
deep laugh and ruffles Sam's hair like he used to do when he was little. Sam
hates it, or so he says, but Dean thinks he secretly likes it given the blush
that spreads across his cheeks like wild fire.
 Dean digs in, doesn't even realize how famished he is until the first bite
touches his tongue and he wastes no time scarfing it down.
"Good?" Sam asks, rising from the table and gathering their plates.
 "Delicious," he replies, and rubs his stomach. Sam laughs and the beauty of it
fills the entire house.
"What?" Dean questions, curious as to what he's found so amusing.
 "You're like a big kid," Sam replies,as he reaches down with one finger and
swipes a drop of syrup that's running down Dean's chin.
Without a second thought, acting purely on instinct alone, he grabs Sam's
finger and wraps his mouth around it and sucks. Sam's eyes go impossibly huge
and it would be funny if he wasn't incredibly hard right now. He pulls of with
a slick pop and tries not to make eye contact.
 "Waste not, want not Sammy," He laughs jokingly, and hopes like hell his voice
doesn't betray him.
Sam seems just as riled and they both spend the next two hours on opposite ends
of the house, neither of them ready to talk about it. Dean mentally scolds
himself. What the hell was he thinking? You don't just go around sucking on
your brother's fingers, almost shooting off under the table. Dean thinks he
should probably have sex more often. Might make a trip into town later; or
maybe he'll rub one out while the salty taste of Sam is still fresh on his
tongue.
It's around lunch time when Sam finally tracks him down, all the tension and
awkwardness from this morning seemingly forgotten, and for that Dean is
thankful. The rest of the day goes by with Dean watching Mash re-runs on tv
with Sam on the floor at his feet, head phones in listening to Nirvana or Pearl
Jam or whatever it was that geeky, smart and ridiculously perfect little
brothers listened to when they were bored.
The sun had descended from the sky as they both climbed into bed that evening
and quickly fell asleep. If Dean snuggles Sam just as tightly as the night
before, Sam doesn't object. He just sinks into the warmth and comfort of Dean's
arms ,he's missed this also.
When Dean stirs awake, it's abundantly clear that he is being tested beyond
what he could bare. Their positions were reversed with Sam now pressed up
against him, his brother's arms wrapped around his waist, the palm of his hand
laid flat across Dean's stomach; the heat from it burning his insides.
Dean closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his breathing normal, but
failed miserably. He could feel his brother's erection pushing against the
cleft of his ass and he ached with the need for more. This was torture. Sweet
and beautiful agony that he both wants to end, yet at the same time wished
would last forever. It's psychological warfare.
 When Sam suddenly rocks against his ass, his erection pushing firmly against
Dean, it takes everything in him not to moan. If he wiggles his hips slightly,
just a fraction, and rubs himself back against Sam its not his fault , his
little brother drives him mad and he just feels so damn good pressed into him
like this.
Sam's thrusts are getting faster and stronger, his hips craving more friction
with every second that passes, but he doesn't wake up. Dean doesn't know what
he would do if he did, all he knows is that right now his dick is painfully
hard, and if he doesn't touch himself to relieve some of the pressure he's
gonna explode.
He curls his fingers around himself, using the precome leaking from his swollen
head to slick the way. Oh fuck, it felt good. His hand worked up a good rhythm,
while his brother set his own behind him. Sam moans and Dean bites his lip
almost in two, to strangle back one of his own. His brother's hips become
frantic and Dean knows he's close. 
He tightens his hold on his dick, jacking himself hard and fast. One, two,
three strokes and when his brother moans what Dean doesn't allow himself to
believe is his name, he comes harder than he has in his entire life. They both
spill into their boxers at the same time. The fact that they shared something
so intimate, even if Sam was unaware, made him feel that much closer to his
baby brother and if that isn't the definition of fucked up, he doesn't know
what is.
 Climbing carefully out of bed and hopping in the shower, Dean rubs another one
out and then washes away all the evidence leaving only him and "the big guy
upstairs" to acknowledge his sin.
 It's another hour before Sam wakes up and after taking his own shower, joins
Dean in the living room in an incredibly good mood. He's cracking jokes, his
dimpled cheeks pulling into a permanent grin, and Dean concludes that what
happened between them this morning, albeit unconventional, was extremely
beneficial to them both.
 They decided to go into town a couple hours later to get supplies and food
then head back to the house, enjoying the view around them. It's the end of
September and all the leaves are changing colors, coating the ground in a
blanket of yellow, red and orange; it's beautiful.
Sam gives Dean a mischievous grin and stops right at the edge of the property
their little cabin sat on.
"Race you to the house?" Sam taunts, and Dean quickly places the grocery bags
in his hands down on the ground in answer.
 "You think just cause you shot up a couple inches, you can take your big
brother?" Dean asks playfully. Sam laughs out loud then.
"Yeah," he says, with a new found confidence."I can take you Dean. Try me."
And damn if Dean didn't get rock hard at the implications of his brother's
words.
"What does the winner get?" Dean asks, trying to sound only a little amused and
not at all like he's begging for anything more than bragging rights.
"Whatever they want." Sam smiles and before he can put more than two seconds
into that thought Sam is gone. Barreling towards the house, lightening under
his feet. Dean chases after him, running as fast as his legs would allow him,
but Sam is too fast and reaches the steps a good twenty seconds before Dean.
Tired and out of breath Dean reaches the steps and hunches over, hands on his
knees, as he tries to still his heart hammering inside his chest.
"Alright," he says, breath still shaky. "What do you want?"
"I don't know," his brother answers back after a second. "I'll have to think
about it and get back with ya." Sam laughs and heads back to where they
discarded their groceries, Dean following not too far behind,thinking the
entire time that Sam would be the death of him.
 
That night they make burgers and fries, and once again Dean feels stuffed and
completely content to hang out on the couch with Sam watching some kind of syfy
movie about parasites. They're half way though the movie when Sam yawns and rub
his eyes.
"You ready to call it a night Sammy?" Dean asks, but Sam quickly shakes his
head.
"I wanna finish the movie first," he replies around another yawn and Dean
smiles.
"Here," he says, and scooted all the way to the end of the couch and motions
for Sam to stretch out. His brother drapes his long body across the couch, his
head coming to rest on Dean's lap and just like when Sam was little, he runs
his fingers through his hair lazily.
Dean is actually getting into the movie. That is until, he's distracted by his
brother's hot breath seeping into the denim of his crotch. His dick stirs
inside his pants and as much as he tries to will it away, it just isn't
happening. Sam's obviously asleep so it's not like he's gonna notice Dean
thinks, until he feels Sam's mouth press softly against the outline of his
cock, his lips applying the briefest pressure, and exhaling more hot breath
into his lap.
It's amazing. Dean's toes curl into the carpet beneath him and his head lolls
back against the couch. The world comes to a screeching halt the moment timid
fingers clutch the metal part of Dean's zipper and as slowly as possible pulls
it down. Those same fingers quietly work the button on the front of Dean boxers
and its all extremely surreal, the moment playing out before him.
"Sammy?" Dean whispers out, voice think and heavy.
"I finally figured out what I wanted," He replies, and fuck if Dean can say no
to that.
He reaches in and pulls himself out on display in front of Sam.
"Wanna taste you Dean," Sam moans, as Dean runs his fingers through his hair
and gently nudges his mouth home.
"Yeah, baby brother," Dean all but whines, "wanna feel that dirty mouth around
my dick."
Sam is fucking amazing as he goes down on Dean, swallowing him as far as he can
take him, sucking hard enough that his cheeks are hollowed out and Dean thinks
it's the most beautiful sight in the world. Dean's got a death grip on the
couch so he won't buck up into Sam's mouth but God, he wants to, wants to fuck
his brother's mouth so hard he can't stand it.
"Sammy wait," Dean stated, as he placed his hand against his brother's
shoulder. He raises up off of Dean, his hardened member sliding out of Sam's
mouth, and he gives a small groan at the loss of the wet, heat.
"Am I doing it wrong?" Sam asks, uncertainty written on his face.
"God no," Dean reassures him. “It's perfect. I just wanna be able to touch you
too,"he says, and Sam looks up at him then, eyes blown heavy with lust.
He gets up off the couch and makes his way towards the bedroom; Dean rock hard
following right behind him. When Dean enters the bedroom, his brother is laid
out on the bed, completely naked, and Dean thinks he maybe wants to cry because
its literally, everything he's ever wanted. The accumulation of years of
repressed hunger finally about to be sated.
He strips down and quickly discards his clothes and climbs onto the bed and
runs a calloused hand up the hard length of his brother's body, eliciting a
trail of goosebumps in his wake.
"You're so fucking gorgeous Sammy," Dean can't help but say, loving how it made
his brother blush.
"I want you to sit on my face," he stated, and if Dean thought Sam was blushing
before, he could quite possibly light a cigarette off his skin he was so red.
Dean lays down beside his brother and helps maneuver him up and over until his
hips are straddling Dean's face, and Sam once again sinks his mouth over Dean's
dick, swallowing him down as far as he could take him.
"Oh, fuck! Sam," Dean loudly moans,"feels so fucking good baby brother."
He bucks his hips a tiny bit, pushing just a little into Sam's mouth. He runs
his hands across the round globes of Sam's ass, spreading him wide, licking a
slow steady stripe up Sam's crack, tongue flicking at his puckered hole.
Sam cries out around Dean's dick, and grinds his ass down against Dean's face,
no shame whatsoever. Just pure, undiluted hunger driving him mad. Dean pushes
his tongue inside past the first ring of muscle, and concentrates on working
Sam open.
He stretches his tongue pushing in as hard and as far as he can go, until Sam
is a squirming, writhing, mess on top of him.
"Oh God Dean, fuck me please. I need to feel you inside me so fucking bad," Sam
screams out, the words shooting into Dean's brain like adrenaline.
Dean growls, literally fucking growls, and flips Sam on his back.
"On your hands and knees for me baby," he commands and Sam doesn't waste any
time, does exactly what he's told. He licks another swipe across Sam's hole
before sinking one finger into the impossible heat of his baby brother and Sam
moans, the sound delicious as it wraps around Dean driving him further.
He works it in and out slow and steady then adds another. Sam's hips start to
rock back and forth against the fingers buried in his ass and Dean adds one
more. He scissors and stretches Sam, getting him good and ready but his
patience is warring thin, can't hold out much longer;not now that he's so damn
close to everything he's ever wanted.
He rubs his hand around his aching dick, using his precome to slick it up and
presses the tip against Sam's hole.
"You sure you want this Sammy?" Dean asks, praying to God that Sam doesn't say
no.
"Yes, please Dean," he begs, "I want you so bad."
Dean closes his eyes as he pushes into the incredible tightness of his baby
brother and doesn't stop until he's buried inside him, his hips coming to rest
against Sam's ass. He stills for a moment allowing Sam to adjust, before he
pulls out slowly and pushes back in. It's not long before they've worked up a
steady rhythm, Sam rocking back into and matching every thrust Dean gives.
The sounds filling the room are guttural and raw as Dean quickens the
pace,pounding into his brother. His hands are slick with sweat and he's
gripping Sam's hips hard enough to leave bruises, as he fucks into him as hard
and as fast as his hips will allow.
"Dean, Dean! I'm gonna — "
"Yeah Sammy," Dean interrupts. "Come on my dick."
Every muscle in Sam's body grew taught as he screamed Dean's name, as his
orgasm fiercely tore through him. Dean felt his brother clamp down on his cock
and he slams up into Sam hard as he fills him to the brim, giving him every
ounce he's got before slowly pulling out and collapsing beside his sweaty
sibling.
"That was, I-I didn't know it could feel so good." Sam breathed into the crook
of Deans neck, his hot breath washing across his overly sensitive skin.
"Me either Sammy. You were so perfect, so fucking perfect," he whispers, as he
peppers small kisses onto the top of Sam's head.
"What do you say we stay in bed all day tomorrow and see how many times we can
go?" Sam suggested and Dean's dick was already stirring at just the idea.
Yeah, Dean thought. Sam is definitely gonna be the death of him...
The end.
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