Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/236336.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Twincest, Community:_kink_bingo
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-08-07 Words: 1455
****** The Bitter and the Sweet ******
by Morgana
Summary
     While in the future, Dean reminds himself what's really important
Dean wasn't sure what woke him, but when he heard a low, choked-off sound
across the room, he first tensed, then relaxed. He knew that sound, had heard
himself make it a thousand times, and if his future self was making it now,
there wasn't anything to worry about. He turned over to go back to sleep when
he heard a faint whimper, one that carried a clear edge of frustration, and
this time he couldn't keep silent. "Can't get off?"
"Shut the fuck up," his other self snapped. "I get off just fine."
"Yeah, I know. I heard what Risa said." And he really should drop it, but he
couldn't stop, just had to press the issue, even with himself. "But we both
know that she's not who you really want, don't we?"
Silence answered him, sullen and heavy, and Dean pushed it a little further.
"Gotta remember, man, I'm you. And I know exactly what - and who - turns your
crank."
"It's not like that," he shot back. Dean wondered if he was as obvious when he
lied or if his double had gotten out of the habit, because he was really bad at
it. "Just shut up and go back to sleep, okay?"
If he were smart, he'd take his own advice. But nobody had ever accused him of
being smart.
"Sammy was sixteen the first time we touched him," he said in a low voice. "He
got in bed with us after a nightmare and we fell asleep holding him. We'd
wanted him for years, used to jerk off thinking about him, and when we woke up
that morning with him against us..."
"It was too much," his other self breathed. "I couldn't help it - I had to have
him."
Dean licked his lips and nodded, even though he knew it couldn't be seen in the
dark room. "He was all snuggled up against us, remember that? Such a sweet
little ass, just begging to be fucked. And we were so fucking hard..." He drew
in a shaking breath and carefully slid off the cot that he'd been given for a
temporary bed. "You remember that, man? What it felt like to wake up with our
dick pressed against that sweet little ass, so hard it hurt?"
A moan answered him, low and husky in the dark, and Dean grinned as he walked
over to his double's cot. "Sammy was on his side - yeah, just like that -" He
encouraged as he saw the other man shift onto his left side. "And we were
behind him, shoved up against him like we'd wanted to be for two fucking
years."
Without thinking about it, because he knew if he tried to think he'd end up
chickening out, Dean sank down onto the cot, wrapped one arm around himself,
and pressed his dick against his own ass. He held on when he felt his twin
stiffen, whispering, "Shhh, just me. You oughta know I'm not gonna do anything
to you. Besides, if I can't get you off..."
He left the sentence hanging until he felt his double relax back against him,
then continued his story. "Remember what we did? How we rocked against him,
thought it couldn't hurt, that he was asleep and he'd never know, and we just
wanted one little thing to help us get off when we jerked off in the shower?"
"Yeah," his own voice replied. "Wasn't going to do anything, but Sammy
moaned..." And he echoed it as Dean rocked against him, letting him feel how
hard he was just remembering that morning.
"We thought he was having a nightmare," he breathed, rubbing a circle on his
stomach like he had on Sam's. "Then he moved and - oh, God, yeah." Because his
other self had shifted the same way Sam had, the hard line of his dick pressing
into Dean's palm, and just like he had years ago, Dean rubbed over him, fingers
automatically molding around him.
"Pretty fucking hard," he mumbled, rocking his hips against him again. He
licked his lips, then asked, "Want help with it?"
It was the same question he'd asked Sam, and his clone gave him the same answer
in return. "Yeah. God, yeah."
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean knew he probably shouldn't be this
turned on by shoving a hand into his own briefs to seek out hot, hard flesh
that he knew intimately, but that part of his brain wasn't doing the driving
right now. And if licking a trail up his duplicate's neck was sick or wrong,
then Dean was willing to chalk this up to a bout of midsummer madness, just the
way he'd done when he slid his hand into Sam's shorts that first morning. It
wasn't exactly like that morning, though - short, bristly hair instead of
longer, silky strands against his shoulder when his double arched his head back
to give him better access to his neck, grunts and groans that were way more
open than Sam had ever been falling from parted lips, a cock in his hand that
was shorter and thicker than his brother's. But instead of being a turn off,
Dean was finding those little changes hot; they reminded him that it was his
own body twisting and arching against him like that, his ass that felt so mind-
blowingly good pushing back against his dick, his cock jerking in his palm like
a live wire while he stroked his twin closer and closer to orgasm.
"Christ, you're wet," he breathed, twisting his wrist in a way that he knew was
guaranteed to make his twin moan loudly and buck into his hand. He'd always
leaked a lot more than Sam, but he'd never been more aware of it than he was
now, feeling precome slide over his fingers, making everything slick and wet
and so fucking hot that Dean felt himself get wetter in response. "Like a
fucking girl, you know that?"
"Shut up," the other man gasped. "Fuck, that's -"
"Yeah?" Dean bit down on a spot that had always driven him wild while he
stroked his thumb over the leaking head. "Gettin' close? Gonna come soon?"
The only answer he got was another long, low moan, but he knew himself well
enough to know what that meant. He tightened his grip and twisted his wrist
again, sucking hard on his double's neck and sure enough, he heard his own
voice start babbling, the way he always did before he came. "Fuck, yeah. Oh,
God, right there - ngh, harder! Jesus, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuuck!"
Dean worked himself through it, a little surprised at how hot it was when it
was basically masturbation. A sick, pretty perverted version of it, but still -
He was no stranger to his own body or how it worked, but this was scorchingly
hot. If this was what it was like when he came, no wonder Sam was always trying
to pounce him! "Anyone ever tell you you're fucking hot when you come?" he
teased.
His other self laughed, the sound shaky and rusty, like he hadn't done it in
years. "A few people." He shifted and pressed back a little harder, making Dean
groan at the pressure against his aching dick. "You can, uh - you can fuck me
if you want," he offered in a low voice, and Dean just about lost it from those
words alone.
As it was, he barely managed to hold it together long enough to hastily finger
his clone open with spit and his own come. And God, that was dirty and nasty in
the hottest way, probably the kinkiest thing he'd ever done - right up until he
slid inside and found himself balls deep in his own body. It didn't take long
until he was coming like it was his first time at the rodeo, shooting so hard
his vision went white. Jesus, he could feel it all the way down to his toes!
He was still recovering, lying dazed and slick with sweat next to his future
self when his double turned and looked at him for the first time. "When you get
back, you call Sam," he told him. "You call him and you tell him -"
"I will," Dean assured him. He hadn't needed the extra push, had intended to
call him from pretty much the second he'd seen what this world was like, but he
thought it might help this other Dean to know that he wasn't going to let this
happen. He was going to fix everything, starting with Sam and ending with the
world.
Later, he hoped that knowing that had given his counterpart a little peace when
he'd gone to face the Devil and died at his hands.
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