Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10189199.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Smut, Oral_Sex, Come_Swallowing,
      Consensual_Underage_Sex, Sam_is_Sixteen_Years_Old, Virgin_Sam
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-03-09 Words: 1564
****** Sharper Than a Blade ******
by skepticalghouligan
Summary
     Sam's got a kink for Dean sharpening their knives. Dean, of course,
     notices.
Everyone assumes the sexiest thing to watch Dean doing is cleaning guns. The
way his fingers move over the intricate pieces, the detail, the shine he gives
each individual part... But that's not Sam's favorite part. No, Sam goes weak
in the knees when he hears the familiar snick of a blade over the the
whetstone. 
From age 14, Sam felt that all too familiar tingle in his groin when Dean would
begin lining up their blades - switchblades, machetes, Bowie knives, pocket
knives. Twice a month, Dean would spend hours sharpening everything they
owned. 
Perfect angle, the slow but steady darkening of his fingertips as he worked the
blade down the stone, over and over - Sam started believing in hypnotism at
that point. 
Twice a month for two years. Two full years Sam made it, kept his cool. Sure.
If keeping his cool was getting hard enough to cut diamonds and jerking off for
an hour in bed that night was keeping cool. 
 
But Dean wasn't stupid. They'd been dancing around flirting for months when Sam
turned sixteen. Lingering touches, winks, inside jokes - and Dean knew Sam's
weakness. 
 
Sam tried to leave when he knew Dean would be sharpening knives. It was better
than that weak kneed feeling and that ache that reminded him how much he wanted
his brother. 
 
But tonight, while Sam was hunched over the table the familiar sound of metal
on the whetstone drew his attention. His head snapped up, gaze falling on Dean
in just his jeans, sitting on the bed. He smirked over at Sam, running the
blade expertly down the stone. 
"Problem, Sammy?"
"N--No. You don't normally work on the knives tonight."
"Just testing a theory... Come here." 
Sam hesitated, looking down at his lap. Fuck. "No, I'm good."
"Come here, Sam."
Sam's cheeks began to burn hot as he rose, turning to Dean. The bulge in the
front of his athletic shorts was clear - and exactly where Dean's gaze landed. 
"Dean, I can explain--"
"Explain what? Why you're sporting a boner from watching your brother sharpen
knives?" Dean asked, looking down at the stone to swipe the blade across it
again. 
"Dean-- Please don't hate me," Sam whispered. 
"I ain't gonna hate you, Sammy. Come here. Sit across from me." Dean's gaze
didn't leave the stone as he spoke. 
Sam did as he commanded, his eyes drawn to the steady stroke of Dean's hands. 
"So you like watching this, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Enjoy it then." Dean hesitated, looking up at Sam. "Go ahead. You think I
haven't heard you jacking off in the shower after watching me - whispering my
name? Show me what you do
“R— Right now?” 
Dean smirked. “Right now. I’m tired of playing around with this, Sam.”
"H--Here?"
"Yes. Go ahead, show me what you got."
Sam wet his lips, dropping his gaze to the bulge at his crotch and back up to
Dean, who'd resumed the leisurely scrape of the pocket knife against the
stone. 
Fuck it. He was already going to hell. Sam shucked his shorts off and leaned
back on his elbows, his eyes following the blade as he reached down to lazily
stroke himself. 
Dean's eyes drifted from the stone to Sam's cock, up to his face. Sam smiled
shyly when their gazed met. "Is this good?" He whispered. 
"Perfect," Dean assured him, setting the stone on his knee to check the blade's
edge. 
Sam could see the greyed tips of his fingers as he thumbed over the side, and
let out a soft whimper.
Dean looked up. "What?"
"Your hands - when they're dirty from the stone, I--"
Dean set the knife and stone on the night table and rose, crouching between
Sam's spread legs. He slid his hands up Sam's bare thighs, leaving gritty grey
streaks. Sam moaned helplessly, his hips jerking. 
"You dirty little shit," Dean teased. He tugged Sam's hand off his cock and
replaced it with his own hand. 
Sam gasped when Dean gave it a firm stroke - his work callused fingers and palm
were an entirely different sensation than Sam was used to. 
Dean picked up a lazy pace, holding Sam's gaze. He wet his lips. "Ever gotten a
blowjob, Sammy?" 
Sam flushed with heat and shook his head. "No." 
"Want one?"
"From you?" 
Dean laughed. "See anyone else in the room? Yeah, from me."
"I-- Dean, we're brothers. Isn't that wrong?"
"We also travel around the country with our dad killing things. We have fake
ID's and steal cars. What's one more illegal thing in our family? Plus... No
one gets hurt with this - we just get to have a little fun." 
Sam bit his lip, considering Dean's words. He wasn't wrong - there was nothing
inherently bad with this... They may be blood but Sam couldn't end up pregnant
at least, and it was better than breaking some guy or girl's heart when they
had to pack up and chase down the next monster... "Okay."
"You're sure?" Dean clarified, leaning a little closer to Sam's crotch. 
"Yeah. I'm sure."
The first time Dean's lips wrapped around the tip of Sam's cock, he thought
he'd died and gone to heaven. Soft and warm, Sam’s wildest dreams couldn’t even
compare to the real thing. Dean used his hand and mouth to work over Sam’s
length, sucking and squeezing and licking in a rhythm that had Sam writhing on
the bed. He reached down, grabbing a handful of Dean’s hair. Dean moaned around
him, sending vibrations down his cock.
“Fuck!”
Dean pulled back quickly, wiping his wet lips on the back of his hand. “You
okay?”
Sam tried to relax, his cock throbbing against his stomach. “I’m awesome… I
was… Gonna come,” He admitted. Dean laughed.
“That’s the point, Sammy.”
“I didn’t figure you wanted it in your mouth.”
“I don’t mind. Just let it happen.” Dean kissed his thigh before leaning
forward again, swallowing Sam back down. 
Sam’s hips jerked off the bed, his hands going to Dean’s hair. “Shit - Dean,
I—“
Dean ignored his words this time in favor of bobbing his head up and down,
sucking and flicking his tongue over Sam’s oversensitive tip.
Sam arched his back as he came, gasping Dean's name like a mantra. He felt Dean
gag a bit, but couldn't bring himself to pull back as his orgasm washed over
him.
When Sam's body relaxed, Dean pulled back, wiping his mouth. He crawled onto
the bed and Sam saw for the first time he'd undone his jeans. He was stoking
himself hard and fast as he moved up Sam's body, his breath coming in short
pants. 
Sam smiled a little and leaned up, opening his mouth. He met Dean's surprised
expression and nodded. "I wanna taste," he whispered. 
Dean grunted softly, letting Sam wrap his lips around the tip of his cock. 
Sam immediately began to suck as Dean stroked the shaft. He buried he fingers
of his free hand in Sam's shaggy hair. "Keep sucking Sammy, that's it-- Fuck--
" Dean cut himself off with a low grunt as his orgasm hit, covering Sam's
tongue in thick, warm splashes of come. 
When Sam was sure he could suck no more out of Dean's cock, he let his head
fall back to the bed. Their eyes met and Sam opened his mouth, revealing the
mouthful he'd gathered. 
Dean groaned, smiling tiredly. "You can spit it--" 
Sam closed his mouth and swallowed before Dean could finish his sentence,
licking his lips. "Tastes better than I imagined."
"You've imagined?" Dean asked, running his softening cock over Sam's lips. 
"Mhm," Sam mumbled, kissing it gently. "All the time. Thank you."
"My pleasure too, Sammy. Glad we got what we wanted."
Sam smiled and sat up a little, wiggling up and out from under Dean. "Not...
everything."
"Oh?"
Sam rolled over, lifting his hips so his ass was on display. "I saved myself...
Hoping you'd... I want you to take my virginity."
Dean's moan was broken. He reached out, squeezing Sam's ass. "You sure?"
"Ever since I was fourteen." 
Dean smiled a bit. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Sam's ass. "Dad's
supposed to be home tonight. We can't risk it. But... I promise. Next time he's
gone for the week... We'll stay in bed all day and I'll show you everything I
know."
Sam grinned, sitting up again to face Dean. "Really?"
"Not too often a pretty boy asks me to pop his cherry. As long as you want it,
I'm proud to."
"One request though," Sam whispered, leaning close to Dean. "I know you always
use condoms. I want you to only fuck me bare."
"Why?" Dean asked.
"Because I've wanted you to take me for two years. Now that it's happening... I
wanna know you marked me... Inside. The first one ever."
Dean's throat clicked when he swallowed. "Yes." He pushed Sam on the bed and
kissed him hard. "Take you so many times you won't be able to sit right," he
promised against Sam's mouth, earning a soft moan. 
Dean pulled back then and chuckled, looking down at Sam. "All this because you
think me sharpening knives is sexy?"
"Well... more than that. But that helps."
Dean laughed a little. "Then the day we do this, I promise I'll get you all hot
and bothered first."
Sam laughed and punched Dean in the shoulder. "Jerk."
"Bitch." 
 
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